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vixstarria · 1 year ago

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"Where my nice, simple plan fell apart"

This is my take on how Astarion’s romance might have progressed with a silly, chaotic energy bard Tav, who doesn’t really fall for his initial manipulation but rather humours it, throughout Act 1.

There will be more – I want to flesh this out and write more ‘behind the scenes’ moments, and continue this into Acts 2 and 3 (I’m still only at the beginning of Act 2 as I write this!)

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav

Comfort, fluff, budding love, cuddling, humour, no spoilers, non-explicit, light angst

Approximately 2,000 words.

AO3

~~~~~

“Let’s find our own little piece of nowhere. Somewhere we can lose ourselves and forget all this madness.”

“Astarion, you insufferable trollop, what piece of cheap pulp did you fish that line from?!” you squeezed your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, wait, let me guess... Madame Scarlett?”

You watched his face turn from indignation to irritation, to finally settle in a resigned amusement, in a rapid succession.

“My, a fellow connoisseur of the vulgar arts? The Madame’s been dead and out of print for over a century. But yes.”

“A professional interest – a bard must be able to entertain all kinds of audiences, with all kinds of material”

“And would you indulge me with your expertise tonight? But I do much prefer show to tell...”.

This was the beginning. You did end up sleeping with him that night, despite his initial soppy attempt at seduction. And then it happened again another night. And then it kept happening...

You tried to be discreet about it at first, but of course it wasn’t long before the other members of your party noticed your nightly disappearances, and there was no point trying to conceal it.

You were vexed by their reactions – just about everyone found it necessary to at one point pull you aside and express their concerns about the vampire, asking you to be careful. This was, perhaps, justifiable – Astarion was admittedly quite stab-happy and had an inclination for bloodthirst (literally and figuratively). But he was on your side! And damned if you needed anyone’s approval for your choices in whom to bed!

By that point you and Astarion had turned the cliched language of poorly written erotica novels into an inside joke. Casually addressing each other in increasingly mawkish and over-elaborate terms had turned into a game. Once the secret of your escapades was out, you weaponised this game, turning it to deliberately exasperate everyone around you with your antics.

With your shared penchant for dramatic flair the two of you became utterly insufferable.

You would shout corny names at each other across camp:

“Oh precious, it’s your turn to set up the campfire! And no, I don’t care that you won’t be eating with us” you called out as the group stopped for the day to set up camp, but no answer followed. “My silver lynx..? Starry?? Snickerdoodle??”

“Your snickerdoodle wandered off to slaughter another bear!” came an exasperated shout from Wyll.

Strangers weren’t safe from your hijinks either:

“My sun, my beating heart, flame of my loins, ache of my head. All my riches, at your feet”, he declaimed to you in front of a confused and embarrassed vendor, as he rummaged through and shook out his pockets and sleeves, spilling an assortment of semi-precious gems, silver cutlery and somehow even an entire silver tray, pilfered from an abandoned manor you came across earlier.

Just to make the others uncomfortable, you would unceremoniously plop into Astarion’s lap at any given opportunity, including in your morning meetings to establish your itinerary for the day.

One evening, as you all sat around the campfire to enjoy a shared meal, Astarion (who would ordinarily stay away during this time, or sit nearby with a book) sank down next to you, lifted your hand towards his mouth, and nonchalantly sank his fangs into your wrist and began to suck, slurping.

“Oh, so I can’t enjoy a nice meal with everyone else, and have to be excluded? Bigots, the lot of you!” he chided, your blood dripping from his lips, to the sound of everyone’s shouts of shocked revulsion. Surprisingly, this was the closest you’d ever seen Lae’zel come to laughing.

(You and Astarion had arranged this prior, of course. Ever the gentleman, he always asked before he bit.)

Another night, as you were having a quiet chat with Shadowheart at her tent, while everyone else lounged at the fire, she asked: “So what is it like with him, really..? How is he?”

Suddenly finding yourself abashed by this genuinely intimate question, you covered it up with pomp and bravado. Winking at Shadowheart, you stood up, threw your head back and began to orate, making sure your thundering voice would be heard by the fire, which you had been separated from by a distance and some bushes:

“HIS MAGESTIC MANHOOD, WHEN UNSHEATHED, IS AN OBELISC OF MASCULINITY AND GLORY. IT IS A WONDER BIRDS DON’T CRASH INTO IT WHEN IT IS FULLY E- Ow! Who threw that?!”

A projectile salami from your camp supplies came flying from behind the bushes, and slammed into the side of your face.

All hell was breaking loose back at the campfire, as Wyll, Gale and a smug Astarion convulsed and shouted through poorly concealed laughter, blaming each other for the missile, as Karlach shook in hysterics and Lae’zel complimented the mystery thrower’s accuracy.

Gale did look more sheepish than the rest once you started to develop a black eye from the impact, promptly healed by Shadowheart.

What was it like with him?

Despite the flowery epithets and exaggerated displays of affection you awarded each other in public, in private you had a mutual understanding that it was all frivolous, no strings play. You had a parasite that could turn you into a mind flayer at any given moment, twisting in your brain. Every day bore violent encounters. Since the nautiloid crash, you hadn’t gone a single day without something trying to murder you. You didn’t want to have to worry about anything other than survival, and you took life day by day. Distractions were welcome, but actual romantic attachment would be a burden, you told yourself.

You thought of it as being friends with extended benefits.

You let him feed (well, snack, really) on you, of course. It wasn’t sexual, not since the first night. He used your wrist, so as not to be overwhelmed by the blood flow. He ended the sessions by healing you himself, assisted by a magical trinket he’d picked up somewhere on your journey. You made sure not to let Gale get his hands on that one.

In battles his arrows always picked off foes in your immediate vicinity, before they were directed to other targets. You’ve yelled at him for this, saying you were more than capable of holding your own, whilst you’d lost count of the revivify scrolls you’ve spent on Gale.

“Yes, well, the way the man goes on about his ‘natural talents’ and ‘mastery of the weave’, you’d think he’d put that big wise brain of his to developing a strategy for not getting stabbed so often” - Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m just encouraging him to improve, really. And besides”, his eyes narrowed, “only I’m allowed to spill your blood, darling”. You frowned at that last bit, as he flashed you a sweet and almost innocent smile, and stalked off.

As for the other ‘benefits’ - the sex was intricate, if somewhat mechanic, almost too skillful on his behalf. Wanting more passion than efficiency, you eventually asked him to talk dirty to you. That made it nearly too intense for you to handle, and seemed to keep him more... personally engaged. During daytime you had to force yourself not to get caught up in flashbacks of his red eyes watching you writhe as he described what he was doing to you, what he was going to do to you, or how you looked while he worked your body.

The night that you, wanting to reciprocate, asked him exactly how he wanted to be pleasured and what he liked was a fiasco. You didn’t understand why. First he said something about being able to please you being his greatest reward and satisfaction (which you immediately shut down). Then he grew flustered and irritated, becoming uncharacteristically at a loss for words. You tried to divert the conversation, but the mood was unsalvageably ruined.

There was one takeaway from that debacle, however. After abandoning the idea of sex for the night, you laid next to each other, talking about nothing in particular: Baldur’s Gate, places you were both familiar with, comforts you were looking forward to having again. At one point he looked at his jacket, which you’d been lying on, and lamented that he couldn’t find any gold thread to fix the embroidery. You laughed and rolled over to give him a hug, and simply never let go. He wordlessly pulled you closer once it was clear you had no intention of leaving. That was the first time that you fell asleep and slept through the night in his arms.

This became somewhat of a ritual, or another game with unspoken rules. Once you were done with each other, you’d pretend to quickly fall asleep with your face nested in the crook of his neck, or to otherwise be too exhausted to get up and make way to your own tent or bedroll. He pretended not to notice the regularity with which this was happening. You pretended not to notice the soft kisses he started leaving on your neck or forehead once he thought you were really asleep. It seemed... important, somehow, that you both pointedly refused to acknowledge any of it. You sensed that otherwise a certain line would be crossed.

Last night, you were too exhausted to even think of anything but sleep by the time everyone started turning in for the night. Yet rest wasn’t even on the horizon for you – you remembered that you’d neglected to clean your weapons and carry out the well overdue maintenance on your equipment, which you did not allow anyone else to touch even when offered. You were planning to venture into the shadow-cursed lands the following day. You couldn’t afford to be sloppy. You begrudgingly set about your tasks. Astarion was as tired as everyone else, you figured it was needless to say you’d spend the night apart. And yet...

“I guess I finally get my bedroll all to myself tonight, how delightful” you heard behind you. “No one to wrap themselves around me, no one nuzzling into my neck... Only free, undisturbed personal space” You heard a hint of dejection beneath the sarcasm, and something in your stomach flipped, giving you pause.

“I’ll come back for a cuddle if you say please” you murmured over your shoulder.

“Never!” he rasped in a perfect imitation of Lae’zel when you asked the same of her before freeing her from a tiefling cage, and disappeared into his tent.

Over an hour later, as you collapsed into your own bedroll, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from across the camp, tent flap ajar. You held Astarion’s gaze.

“Please”, he mouthed soundlessly, smiling as he lifted the edge of his blanket.

Within moments, you slipped into his embrace, pressing your lips against his. But his kisses were gentle and feather light, lacking the usual persistent neediness.

You pulled away from him, locking eyes as he softly ran his hand down your cheek, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.

“Gods, you’re beautiful” he breathed.

That night he fell asleep with his head against your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

Your breath caught in a silent sob as you were overwhelmed by a bittersweet realization of how much you really stood to lose if you failed in the journey still ahead of you. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier or more miserable before in your life, as you hugged him tighter.

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #fkn Gale #why is it always Gale

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temozarela · 9 months ago

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-> miss you already

GETO X READER MDNI, smut, slow burn, fluff, angst, soft geto, comfort, mutual pining

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

inspiration (@ayyy-pee)

part 2

ao3 version

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The beginnings of dusk settled over the mountains, soft lavender clouds blushing as the amber sun settled behind them. You were settled at your desk, pen loose in your grip as you stared out of your window. The breeze was cool on your cheeks and you knew that it was probably time to pull the windows closed since the remnants of Summer were scarce, only obvious through the very last of the green leaves, of which were tinged red at the very tips. You could see the main courtyard of Jujutsu Tech from your room, meaning that you often knew who was present and where they were. Previously that day, you had watched Geto leave at 7am, then Nanami at 2pm, and Shoko and Gojo- presumably to the bar- at 5pm. You didn’t get offended about the lack of invite, after all, you often said no these days. Since Geto didn’t choose to go out much, you often chose to stay back with him instead. It was nicer than the sweaty noisiness of the bar Shoko liked. It was her special discovery in second year- a bar that didn’t ask for ID. The others quickly adopted it too, and despite them now being of age, they never grew out of it. You guessed they were emotionally attached to it now, despite the poor quality of the drinks. Geto and you often read together on those quieter nights, or you watched shitty horror movies. You had a tendency to be shyer around bigger groups, so being able to have time alone with Geto was nice, and you felt a lot closer to him because of it. You weren’t an idiot though, you knew he got a lot of female attention. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get glared at when you went out together, and there were occasions where girls had come up to you for permission to ask him out. Truthfully, these girls were often stunning, and part of you even resented Geto for being the one who got their attention, especially since he always politely apologised with a bow- or on his lazier days, he gave them Gojo’s number instead. What a waste.

You had been expecting Geto back at 4pm, but you hadn’t seen him come back yet. In an act of desperate boredom, you’d even checked his room, the training areas, the vending machines, and even the classrooms. Nope. No Geto in sight. It was a shame that he wasn’t there for a ‘just us two’ evening, but that concern was long gone by 6pm. Where was he? You had tried texting and calling him. No response. You had even texted Gojo about whether he’d contacted them.

Nah but u sure he isn’t stuck in the toilet or smth? xoxo

And Shoko.

nope.

not since tues soz

So there you were, sat at your desk, anxiously watching the school entrance. For a second, you had wondered about reporting him missing, however you shook it off. What could the police do that a special grade sorcerer couldn’t?

By the time it was dark, your back ached and you hadn’t made any progress on your homework for at least 3 hours. 9pm. Something was definitely wrong. You tried not to fret, you had noticed how tired he’d been lately- maybe he had chosen to stay in the city for a while to get his mind off things. You groaned, burying your head in your arms. You really missed him, and the worst part was that you were the only one.

See, Shoko and Gojo had the mindset of ‘if it was something he couldn’t handle, it’d be all over the news’, and you were more sensitive than them- you knew that- but it hadn’t stopped you from turning the news on anyway, letting it drone on in the background. Just in case. However, after a while, the hours of constant murmuring about war, murders, a girl being kidnapped, and heavy rain forecast for the next few days wasn’t doing much for your emotional state, so now you finally reached for the remote, turning it off, and by consequence, plunging yourself into deafening silence.

It was late and you were still in your uniform, you noted. You were tired too.

With a hefty sigh, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at your ceiling. The wind whispered, lowly outside, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You idly chided yourself for forgetting to close the window, but you couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.

Finally, after a few deep breaths, you found solace in sleep.

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You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

Cold hands touched your face again, turning your head. In response, your eyelashes fluttered open. You were surprised, in your groggy state, that you couldn’t see your room. Was something blocking your view? Then, regretfully, you noted that your uniform was sticking to your skin, and that you never did change.

Also, it was freezing.

“Hey.”

You jumped.

“What the fuck.” You croaked, squinting upwards. “Geto?”

“Yeah-”

“Finally.”

“Look-”

“You fucking stink.”

“Ok, just-”

“No seriously, it’s rancid. Hang on, let me get the light…” You mumbled, blinking sleepily.

“Wait, first I should tell you-” Your numb fingers found the light switch, and you flicked it on.

“Ok, ok,” You paused, eyes widening as his figure was illuminated, and suddenly you were very awake. “What the fuck.”

Geto was dripping with blood. His face, his shirt, his trousers- drenched. You studied his face, head cocked. He thinned his lips, looking… mildly unimpressed.

“As I was trying to say,” He started, “I’m leaving.”

“You… just got here.” You muttered, squinting at him.

“No, I-” Geto sighed, running his dirtied fingers through his loose hair, “I’m leaving Jujutsu Tech.”

“Why?”

“I want to create a world of only Jujutsu sorcerers.” He swallowed, hands clenched by his sides. You stilled, mind buzzing.

“How…” You rubbed your temples, looking around, “How… did you get in here?”

Geto stared at you, dubiously. “That’s what you want to ask?”

You nodded. “I have other questions too, but I lock my door at night and now I have safety concerns.”

“Your window was open.”

“Oh yeah.” You mumbled, running a hand over your face. “Fuck.”

“I’m tired of the higher-ups avoiding the root of the problem, so I’m leaving.” Geto continued, carefully.

“Oh.” You said, struggling to find words. “Right now?”

Geto looked at you strangely, then nodded.

“Do the others know?”

Geto shook his head.

You stared at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed, a pensive frown fixed on your face.

“Holy shit!” You sat up, eyes wide with realisation. “Whose blood is that?” You raised your voice, gesturing at his shirt. You were so used to seeing gore as a sorcerer, it hadn’t even occurred to you that the blood on his clothes was anything strange at all.

“Don’t be so loud.” Geto hissed, “It’s just from some non-sorcerers.”

With a raise of your eyebrows, you scrutinised him, “Just some non-sorcerers’?” You scoffed. “Just? How many?”

He swallowed, “112.”

You blinked at him.

“Just… 112… innocent people?” You replied, slowly.

Geto breathed, deeply, “I had to.”

“What would’ve happened if you didn’t?” Your voice climbed as you gestured frantically.

“I wouldn’t have solidified my resolve.” Geto’s shoulders tensed.

You almost wanted to laugh.

“It’s always you and your fucking resolve, isn’t it?” You muttered, dryly. Geto watched you, uncomfortably, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. A heavy silence hung in the air like a toppled vase, microseconds away from shattering on the floor.

You sighed heavily, crossing your legs, “So… what now?”

“Come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

Geto crouched to your level, hands reaching for yours, “I don’t care if you hate what I do, just come with me.”

You froze, fingers twitching between his clammy hands.

“You’ll have a home, an allowance, I’ll try to give you the best life possible. I don’t want to leave you here to work 50 hours a week and then to die at 26.”

He had a point.

It was a good offer.

Your eyes darted between Geto’s dark ones. “Why me? Shouldn’t you take Gojo?”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” Geto squeezed your hands tightly. “Satoru enjoys it- fighting with the higher ups and spending his free time exorcising curses. It’s who he is. It’s not who you are, though.”

“It’s not.” You agreed, softly.

Geto moved to perch on your bed, but you swatted his shoulder, silently gesturing at his bloody clothing. He nodded, an amused glint in his eyes, as he moved to politely kneel on the floor. You climbed out of your bed to sit next to him, shivering slightly at the iciness of the wooden floorboards. Stretching your legs in front of you, you slowly exhaled.

At least he was safe, right?

To be honest, you still didn’t really know what to think of it. It’s not something you had even thought to prepare yourself for. You’d miss him if he left, you knew that. He knew that you didn’t enjoy being a sorcerer, and you were a little pissed that he had used it against you, but he wasn’t wrong. Being a curse user with him didn’t sound half bad, either. It wasn’t an easy decision to make though and he had to understand that.

“We need to get you out of those clothes.” You murmured.

Geto looked at you, “Do you even have anything I can change into?”

You shook your head, “I can stop by your room, I’ll get a bath running.”

“We can’t.” He replied, “I don’t want to be seen.”

“It’s 2am, Geto.” You said shortly after sparing a glance at your clock, “We’ll be fine.”

Geto looked hesitant as you stood up, offering him a hand.

The walk to the bathroom was silent as you snuck past the dorms. Gojo and Shoko were long asleep, so being caught wasn’t too much of a concern. After retrieving a few bits from Geto’s room, you crept into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. The tiles were cold under your bare feet, but you paid it no mind as you turned the bath tap on, waiting for the water to run hot. Behind you, Geto changed out of his ruined uniform, and you willed yourself not to look. Silence settled over the two of you again, but you knew this time it was because you were deep in thought. Once the tub was full, you turned the tap off, stepping back to allow Geto to climb in. He thanked you softly before stepping in, but your eyes were fixed on the floor as your cheeks heated. When you looked up again, you saw that he was mostly submerged by the water, the ends of his inky hair soaked and curling as it floated in the crystalline water. He watched you expectantly, his gaze sweet and warm, like honey, as you rolled your sleeves up.

Carefully, you poured some of the water over his hair using a cup. You then reached for the shampoo. After pouring a dollop onto your palms, you massaged it onto his scalp. He leaned back, sighing softly as you washed his hair, fingernails gently scratching his skull.

“Where are you going next?” You started, continuing to wash his hair.

Geto hummed pensively, “Who knows… Where do you want to go?”

Your hands froze in place. “I never said I’d go.”

“Right,” Geto said, “but you will, won’t you?”

“No.” You replied, defensively.

“No?” He sounded amused.

“Nope.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll go abroad…”

You swallowed, “How far?”

“Maybe somewhere pretty like Croatia.”

“…That’s far.”

“It is.” Geto agreed.

“Can I convince you to stay?”

“Nope.”

“Ok.” You frowned, resuming the movement of your fingers in his hair. After a moment you stopped again, “What if I promised to join you later?”

Geto sat up.

“I have too many loose ends,” You added, “I don’t want to regret this.”

“How long?”

You exhaled, slowly, “Maybe a year or two?”

Geto looked at you over his shoulder, his stare dark, “That’s long.”

“Well,” Meeting his gaze, you raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re willing to wait for me, then.”

“I am.” His response was quick, maybe even too quick as it took you off guard.

“Ok.” You nodded slowly, “That works.”

The rest of the bath was quiet, the two of you in contemplating the decisions being made. Only the lulling waves of the water, lapping against the white porcelain tub, alongside both of your soft breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Geto’s hair was silky as you ran your fingers through it. In the light of the bathroom, you noticed how the finer strands looked more chocolate than black, notes of hazel glittering amongst the glistening, dark locks. You squeezed the excess water out of his hair, then dried your hands on your trousers. Afterwards, you moved to stand in front of the bath so that you could see his face. He looked elegant. It seemed that he had either lost, or chosen not to wear his gauges as his gaping earlobes hung, empty. You realised then that you had never seen him without them before. It was different. Previously, you had brushed his hair away from his face, allowing you to see him without obstruction, and you thanked yourself for it now. His face was chiselled, everything about him seeming so sharp from his cheekbones, to his jawline. There seemed to be more colour behind his tanned skin, at least more than there used to be. The purple blotching under his brooding eyes was still there from months of exhaustion, but his facial expressions no longer held that lingering fatigue anymore. He looked healthier, happier even, than he had for a while. Geto’s thin eyebrows were raised as he stared at you, no doubt because you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it though, the way droplets tumbled down his broad shoulders was hypnotising and you almost wanted to condemn the water for concealing the rest of his body under a thick layer of bubbles.

“Are you done?” Geto drawled, sounding equal parts charmed and bored.

You cocked your head, furrowing your eyebrows, “No, not quite.” You muttered, absentmindedly.

He really was beautiful.

In that moment you understood every girl who had given you death glares for standing with him, and every girl who had boldly asked for his number. God knows, you’d be too scared to. You pitied that they were never able to see him like this. Every girl deserved this at least once, you thought, it was definitely more therapeutic than anything a psychiatrist could offer you.

Lethargically, you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. “Ok, yeah I’m done.”

For a second, it seemed that Geto was trying to glare at you, but starting with the slight twitch of his mouth, he broke into soft, flustered laughter.

“Fuck,” He ran a hand over his face. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Suddenly unsure of how to respond, you looked at him, wide-eyed, your cheeks burning.

Geto smiled at you affectionately, “Just pass me my towel, please.”

You nodded, reaching for the white, fluffy towel you had left out for him. When Geto made a move to get out, you covered your eyes.

“I was meaning to ask,” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, “how come you’re still wearing your uniform?”

Oh yeah.

“I didn’t exactly intend to fall asleep like this, you know.” Your hand moved from your face to pull at the creased fabric, self-consciously. “I was kinda distracted yesterday.”

“Oh?” The rustling of Geto’s clothing paused. “How come?”

You scoffed, “Because you went missing? I had the news on and everything.”

“You did?” He cooed, teasingly, pulling a shirt over his head, judging from what you could hear.

“…Yes.” You scowled.

The way he said your name after that was far softer than you had ever heard it before. It made you feel warm in every nook and cranny of your body, like fire spreading from your cheeks, and flickering inwards to consume your beating heart. When you felt his hand land on your shoulder, you tensed, chewing on the inside of your cheek with anticipation.

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice low and smooth.

You turned to see him changed into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. “Really?”

Geto nodded, “I didn’t realise that you’d worry.”

“Of course I would.” You looked up at him, carefully studying his face.

“I know it’s selfish but… I’m glad you did.”

His confession made you smile warmly.

“Stay the night.” It wasn’t a question, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find a hotel room at this time.

Geto shook his head, “You know I can’t, my room is directly next to Satoru’s. It’s too risky.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, “Stay in mine, then. Shoko won’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“This is non-negotiable, by the way.” You added.

His mouth closed.

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By the time Geto had tucked himself into your bed, you had changed into pyjamas. It was cute seeing him snuggled next to your plushies, it just seemed so… right. You climbed in next to him, unable to close the gap between you, despite yourself. Admittedly, you had been expecting some kind of argument over who would take the bed and who would offer to sleep on the floor but end up taking the bed anyway, but much to your relief, Geto seemed too exhausted to care. You weren’t going to complain. For a while, you just watched each other, wordlessly, eyes half-lidded.

“Will you be gone when I wake up?”

You knew the answer, but you asked anyway.

Geto shifted under the covers, brushing his hand against yours. “Probably.”

“Shame.”

He watched you for a moment, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Like many times that night, you met his gentle gaze, leaning into his touch, gingerly.

“A year is a long time.” Geto murmured.

You agreed.

“It’s a long time to wait to do something I’ve been wanting to do for months.”

Fuck anything you had said before about being tired, you were wide awake.

“Excuse me?”

Geto smiled at you, lopsidedly, “Sorry if I read you wrong but… I like you. I really do.”

“And…” You swallowed.

“I want to say goodbye to you… properly.”

Fuck.

“I’d like that, Geto.” You whispered.

Before you knew it, he was on top of you, muscular thighs hugging your hips. You sat up, hands reaching to pull him down by his collar. When your lips crashed into his, you felt euphoric. As his warm lips moved against yours, your hands moved to his hips, slipping under his t-shirt to trace the ridges of his abs. You felt his muscles tense as you touched them, paired with a low ‘fuck’, whispered into your mouth. When Geto leaned back to peel his shirt off, you instantly missed his body, but the sight of his torso in full was… jaw-dropping. Without doubt, you knew that he was the kind of man that the Ancient Greeks erected temples for. Everything about him was beautiful, from the dusky areola which orbited his nipples, to the trail of hair below his navel. You swallowed, running your hands up his torso. In response, Geto leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Next to go was your shirt, which ended up on your floor next to his. Geto’s hands were quick to cup your breasts, fingers brushing the sensitive nubs as he gently squeezed them. You whimpered, softly, looking up at his focused face.

“Please…” You arched your back, pushing your chest towards him. He swore under his breath before pushing you down so you were horizontal. In an act of fleeting tenderness, he brushed your hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, before attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You gasped as his hands roamed downwards, grazing over your stomach before his fingers strayed under your waistband. He paused his work on your neck to look up at you, silently checking on you with a sweet smile. You nodded, slipping one of your hands into his damp hair as you guided his head back to your neck. Without hesitation, he started pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, no doubt leaving a myriad of marks. When his hand breached your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt with excruciating affection, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“How- do you- want- me?” He asked you between kisses, nose buried in the crook of your neck.

You swore, hips uselessly pushing against his touch, “I’m really not picky.” You rushed, becoming more and more desperate for his touch.

Geto snorted, pressing a gentle kiss against the column of your throat, “That’s not very helpful, sweetheart.”

“Just- touch me!” You whined, impatiently, your grip on his hair tightening. As you tugged, Geto made a low noise at the back of his throat.

“Whore.” You laughed breathlessly as he playfully bit down on your neck, his fingers finally slipping between your folds.

Geto smirked into your neck and you could feel it. “I wouldn’t be getting so cocky, if I were you.” He warned, circling your clit with his fingertip.

“Do your worst.” You grinned, pulling his face back to yours to make out with him again. When you pulled his hair again, he moaned against your lips oh-so prettily, fuelling the burning lust inside of you. You were hyper-aware of every graze of his skin against you, somehow his fingers against you felt 10 times better than you own and it made you insatiable. You could feel the coil in your lower stomach begin to snap as Geto’s tongue fucked your mouth, shamelessly moaning against your tongue. You were so close, soso close…

Geto pulled away, watching you with a grin. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek, apologetically, “I’m impatient, and I really fucking need you right now.”

Despite your initial frustration, his words set your heart alite as you whined. He grunted as he lifted his hips, enabling you to kick your pyjama bottoms off, hastily. When you spread your legs for him, he sat back, using his middle and index finger to spread your dripping folds.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pressing his thumb against your entrance, “You’re soaked.”

Your hips involuntarily jutted into his touch, desperately searching for more.

“Geto, please.” You begged, hands clenching your sheets. His eyes flickered up to yours, his gaze dark.

“Suguru.” He muttered, starting to palm himself through his joggers, “Please. Call me Suguru.”

In the moonlight, the outline of his cock looked more impressive than any Renaissance painting you’d ever seen. You needed him so badly it hurt.

“Fuck, Suguru…” You pressed your thighs together, needily, as you watched him pull his joggers down, his cock hard and heavy, springing to stand against his lower stomach.

He was big.

No fuck that, he was massive.

You knew you had never even tried anything that big in your life, but maybe it was the way his precum dribbled down his thick shaft, you didn’t feel nervous at all.

Geto leaned in to kiss you softly, uttering gentle praise as he pressed his leaking tip to your entrance. Your fingers found purchase around his neck, fingernails digging in at the ache of the intrusion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Geto groaned against your lips, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me…”

Once he was halfway in, he slowed to kiss your cheek. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Impatiently, you rocked your hips against him, making him slide in further. You moaned, gasping at the feeling of being so full.

Geto wasn’t faring so well either, letting low whines slip as he inched in a little more until his hips were flush with yours.

His eyes met yours desperately, “You ok?” He swallowed, watching you carefully as you adjusted.

“Mhm.” You uttered, weakly, “You can move.”

Geto nodded, cheeks flushed, as he experimentally fucked into you, the steady slapping of your skin speeding up as you begged him for more. With a groan, he buried his head in your neck, releasing soft pants and grunts against your bruised skin. You cried out, nails raking down his back as his pace bordered on lethal as he pounded into you, forcing your body up and down your bed.

“Mhmm, ‘Sugu!” You whined, arching your back as he pressed inside of you. Geto nipped your neck, hands securing your hips as he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you drool.

“Right there- right there- please-“

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he abused your cunt, the wetness soaking the insides of your thighs and no doubt Geto’s crotch as well.

“Right there?” He teased, but his voice was husky and it was clear he was approaching his peak from the way he grunted after. One of his hands moved from its position on your hips, instead pressing down on your lower stomach. You wailed, thrashing against him as the burning pressure in your lower stomach climbed. You were so close.

“Fuck, please- Suguru I need you-” You were cut off by Geto’s lips as his hand moved to where you needed it the most, his fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. His pace sped up as he chased his own orgasm, the heat of your core irresistible to him.

“Fuck.” Geto groaned, “Can I?”

Your thighs tightened around his waist against your will. “Fuck no.” You hissed between kisses.

“Shit.”

It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, and you knew sure as hell that he didn’t either. You couldn’t risk it though.

With a final pinch of your swollen clit, you came, legs shaking and fingers tugging at his hair as you cried out. Geto wasn’t far behind, swearing as he pulled out despite your legs trapping him in.

With a few final tugs of his length, he came on your stomach, panting as he watched his spend dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck.”

“…Yeah…”

You closed your eyes, basking in the sleepiness of the aftermath. Somewhere next to you, Geto moved, leaning over you before you felt soft fabric on your lower stomach, cleaning up his mess on your body and your own mess between your thighs.

“Thanks.” You muttered, sleepily.

When Geto finally lay down next to you, he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“I’ll see you again one day.” He whispered against your skin.

“You will.” You murmured, ignoring the lump in your throat, “One day.”

Geto released a content hum which vibrated in his chest and throat.

“I miss you already.”

#angst #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk shoko #comfort #jjk angst #jjk comfort #jjk fluff #fluff

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onlyjjong · 27 days ago

Text

엔하이픈 --- AND THAT'S HOW I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOUR MOTHER.

　　김선우 　x　 fem!reader 　　┊　　1172 words

GENERE　┊ 　!oneshot, !nonidol , !fluff , !hints of attempted angst , !high school, !potential relationship , !bestfriends to lovers

NOTE DI ENTRATA　 ┊　 in which seonwoo falls in love with his best friend after seeing how caring she is.

DISCLAIMER 　┊ 　depictions may be inaccurate , contains swear words & mentions of violence (reader punching someone).

⟡ 📩 𑁋 TAGGING : @a-dream-bookmark , @enchive , @en-log , @/k-labels

Alone. Helpless. Countless emotions haunted Kim Seonwoo, dragging him down with them. He begun to dread waking up every single day, knowing that he’ll be discouraged by his own progress.

School was beginning to feel rather overwhelming. Wasn’t 10th grade supposed to be all about spending memorable time with friends with no care about tomorrow?

The shady trees and colourful slides around him began to blur as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. He clenched his fists tight, trying to force all the emotions down his throat.

“Seonwoo!” a voice called—melodious, sweet, and enlightening. A voice that belonged to you, his best friend.

Shit.

Seeing that Seonwoo wasn’t waving back at you cheerfully, as he normally would, your heart began to pang with worry. Your legs quickened their pace, driving you to Seonwoo as fast as they could.

“Seon-”

“Hi, Y/N,” he smiled as he quickly cut you off, hastily blinking back tears.

“You walked back home without me,” you said, pouting slightly. You fidgeted with your backpack straps. “I waited for 30 minutes in front of the gate! I seriously thought I made you upset or something.”

Seonwoo forced a chuckle, his eyes fixed upon the algae that had grown onto the base of the bench he was sitting on. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to.”

“There’s something wrong,” you said abruptly after an awkward period of silence—that involved Seonwoo trying his absolute hardest to avoid your interrogating gaze. “But, you’re hiding it from me. And I’m guessing it’s been like this for, like, a while.”

Seonwoo immediately looked up, finally making eye contact. “Huh?”

“Don’t you ‘huh’ me, Kim Seonwoo,” you rolled your eyes, huffily taking a seat next to him. “I’ve known you for quite some time now. Trust me when I say, I know when to spot an upset Seonwoo.”

A couple of minutes passed by with complete silence. Seonwoo threw his gaze far away, dazed as your look on him went unnoticed.

Noticing how your best friend of almost 3 years—who knew you like the back of his hand, who was always there with you no matter how happy, dumb, or sad you are—acted so out of character, you couldn’t help but feel a portion of the emotions he felt.

“You know,” you chuckled gently as you began, glancing at Seonwoo, “today I finally got the butter sugar bun I’ve been wanting to eat for ages. It was finally restocked!”

Licking your lips, you reminisced at the taste. You kicked your legs in the air, excited, “it was sooo good, Ddeonu! I wish you were there to eat it with me. Where were you?”

“Library,” he muttered a few seconds after.

You pressed your lips together, sighing. You hoped that changing the topic would’ve brought Seonwoo back into his normal self; but nothing was working.

Desperate to cheer him up, you took a deep breath.

“You never go to the library without me,” you replied, hugging your legs with your arms as you turned to face him, “are you upset with me?”

Seonwoo failed to meet your eye.

“No.”

“Yes. Yes you are.”

“No.”

“Yes, you are. Seonwoo, I know you–”

“No, you fucking don’t!” Seonwoo yelled sharply, directly into your face. The shock it gave sent you tumbling down the bench; you fell flat on the ground.

“Seonwoo…”

“You don’t know me, Y/N! Stop acting like you care, stop acting like I’m the bestest friend you could ever have!”

As soon as those words left Seonwoo’s lips, something in you snapped. Within seconds, your fist landed onto his lips, throwing him slightly to the back.

Towering over his figure, you seethed, “fine. You know what? I guess I don’t know you after all. The Seonwoo I know is kind, gentle, and caring. He would never yell at me face for fucking asking how he’s doing.”

A tiny pinch of guilt seeped into you as you watched Seonwoo wipe blood off his lips.

“The Seonwoo I know is my best friend—who I’ll trade nothing in the world for.”

The world fell silent as the two of you stayed to soak in what just happened.

“If you’re not saying anything, then I’m going home,” you then said, after what seemed like eternity of waiting for some kind of verbal response from Seonwoo. He hadn’t met your eyes ever since you stated how you truly felt about him. That you saw him as your best friend; your rock; your companion.

Though, before you could leave, Seonwoo grabbed your arm. And as you turn to face him, you are greeted with something you’d never expect to see.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” whispered Seonwoo, his voice throaty. His hand tightened its grip on your wrist. Tears began to flow down his cheeks, causing his beautiful eyes to sparkle. “I’m sorry, I really am. I-I didn’t mean to say that to you. I don’t… I don’t know what I was thinking–”

“It’s okay, really,” you replied, reaching for his hand.

“I knew you were going through something, Seonwoo,” you continued, oblivious to the fireworks that started to blast in your best friend’s heart.

“I’ve never seen you look so… broken, you know? I-I don’t know what to do to comfort you. I still don’t,” you chuckled.

Squeezing his hand tight, you smiled. “I thought of giving you some space to sort yourself out, but if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

Seonwoo, upon hearing your words, couldn’t stop his tears any longer. He cried his heart out, and even though it deeply concerned you, you knew best to remain there with him.

“Seonwoo…” you hugged him, slightly surprised to find him reciprocating the gesture swiftly.

“I’m struggling,” he confessed, face buried in the comfort of your hoodie, “with everything. I’m on the verge of failing, Y/N.”

“I know it’s weak of me to cry–”

“It’s not.”

Seonwoo chuckled amidst his (still flowing) tears, which made you slightly happy. You managed to lift his mood up a little!

“I’ll help you, you know,” you said, patting his back. “I’ll help you until you become one of the top students of Decelis International School.”

Seonwoo giggled, causing tingly vibrations throughout your body. “Thanks,” he murmured into your hoodie, a few seconds after his giggle settled down. “I owe you my life, Y/N.”

Squeezing into the embrace, you nodded. “Anything for you, Seonwoo.”

Seonwoo shook his head, grinning as he broke the hug. “Oh, don’t say that—you’ll regret it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, since you’ll do anything for me—I’ll make you do all my homework, do all my projects– ouch! What was that for?”

“Don’t make me take back my hug and my words!” you exclaimed after hitting his head.

The two of you erupted into fits of laughter; the orange sunset painted across the sky around you. The moment was perfect—everything seemed to go by slowly, and it seemed like it was only Seonwoo and you.

“And, Seong-ja, that’s how I fell in love with your mother.”

― © onlyjjong, 2024.

⟡ 📬 𑁋 𝓛𝐈𝐋𝐈's PERMANENT TAGLIST! (OPEN) : send an ask to be added! @flwrstqr , @floweryang , @junislqve , @mimiuius, @en-gelic , @tzyunaes

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darylbae · 5 months ago

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Always read your fics and enjoyed them from afar , , why not send a request ! ^^ Don't feel pressured to write this too this is a little weird now that I read it over and sorry for the long req ! ! >< Could you write some an angsty or fluffy oneshot of a reader infected with the deadly flu during (i think) early season 4 and Daryl determined to cure her of the sickness. Them both having conversations between the glass of the prison where the reader is just at the point of giving up and accepting they'll die by this flu and Daryl is trying to give them hope. There's the scene with the group who went to the veterinary (..?) college/university to grab medicine for Hershel to use where they find out Bob didn't grab shit and Daryl just goes off at him because the reader was so kind and generous to him wdym you only grabbed BOOZE?? And then it ends with the reader who's cured of the flu, running into Daryl's arms both relieved and happy that they can finally hold each other again. Which ends in Daryl showering them in kisses because yay they're cured ! The idea just came to me while I was laying at the beach, "If the reader, his lover, was infected by the flu how much more angry would Daryl be with Bob when he only grabs alcohol?"

quarantine — daryl dixon

in which the flu catches up to you, and daryl is stressed about losing you

note: my requests are still open!! i have a few to write but im still happy to accept them! <3

Your job prior to the apocalypse was a caregiver to the elderly, so you had experience with a lot of medication and general practice of caring for someone. It's why Daryl had become so drawn to you, seeing you care for your people, or even people from Woodbury that had just been taken in, you gave everyone the same love and attention regardless of time spent with them. Daryl hadn't realised his longstanding affection for you until this flu outbreak within your prison community. You'd volunteered to help everyone alongside Herschel, caring more about the well-being of others more than your own. Until you'd gotten sick. "It was inevitable, honey," you spoke, not having the energy to even raise your voice above a whisper, "I'm glad I kept everyone in here hydrated, fed, and stable. But we're not seeing any progress." Daryl was on the other end of the window, eyes staring intensely into yours, wishing he could touch you, wishing he could hear your voice clear as day and not muffled due to being separated. Daryl sighed in defeat. "You don't deserve this." "Nobody does, but we need medication, Dar." You admitted. "It's the only way for people to get better, otherwise, we'll die in here." The thought of losing anyone else was enough of a push to find some medication, but the thought of losing you was enough to get him anywhere. He'd ride for days, hell, he'd walk for days if it meant you could get better. "I'm taking a group out, I'll get ya the meds. Just rest f'me, okay sweetheart?" Daryl was pleading now, you could hear the whine in his voice. You nodded, coughing into your hands as you hobbled away.

Days had passed. You couldn't get out of bed most mornings, even as Herschel did his rounds. Usually you'd join him, making sure everyone had water and food. But your bones ached, your head was pounding, you were sweating through your clothes. "Why don't the caregivers care for themselves, hm?" Herschel asked, entering your cell with a pitcher of water. You smiled painfully, reaching for your cup and holding it up for him. "Not used to it, I guess.." You wheezed, stabling yourself before another coughing fit. "How is everyone?" "Good as they can be, I guess." "Any word on the meds?" You asked, wanting to take the moment off yourself and onto a cure. Herschel shook his head. "Daryl keeps asking about you, though. It's rather sweet, really." "He is. Contrary to how he acts." You smiled, the thought of how he only acted around you. You'd caught him smiling a few times, even laughing at your terrible jokes. "I know a man in love when I see one."

Herschel had alerted you that Daryl was by the window again, asking for you. So you'd made the effort to hobble out of your cell and over to the window. And Daryl almost collapsed at the sight of you. Pale, hunched over in pain, sweat dripping from your skin. Your once glowing skin replaced with dullness, dark circles under your eyes. "Hey," you whispered, your hand on the glass, "how are you?" "How are you?" He asked, matching your hand with his and the both of you craved the feeling of the other's skin on yours. This was pure torture. "I can't do this anymore, Dar." You tried to take in a deep breathe, but you would wheeze as you did so. "It's getting harder. To talk, to walk, to move at all." Daryl's brows furrowed, trying to hold in every ounce of emotion threatening to spill out of him. "I know, sweetheart, I know." "They really need those meds in here, they're not getting any better." You confessed, there was no point trying to hide it now, you'd be walkers in a matter of days. "I'm gettin' em, I promise. Jus' been findin' fuel and supplies for our trip, we're leavin' today." Daryl mumbled, doubts and fears running rampant in his head. "Jus' came to say goodbye and I'll be back for ya." "I know you will, when I'm better I want a nice hug from you. It's the least bit of affection I deserve." You smiled, matching his as he shoved his middle finger up at you. But you knew what he meant. You could wait to tell him you loved him too.

Daryl had gone with Michonne, Bob, and Tyreece to a veterinary college for the medication, but Daryl couldn't think straight. He hadn't realised just how much you meant to him until you were isolated away from him. And he wasn't going to keep it to himself anymore. "We're in and we're out." Daryl instructed the team, leading them into the building. "Grab everything you can." He was so focused on finding the names of everything he needed, shoving it into his bag, he had his sights set on his objective and nobody else. Walkers had become the least of his worries. Even when the escapes had been overrun with walkers, he'd found a window which took them out to a roof. "We can walk over this roof, get us away from 'em." Daryl suggested, helping Michonne through the roof and carefully out of the building. The four steadily climbed out, aiming to walk along and find a quiet place to drop down, but Bob had lost balance and almost let go of his bag. Daryl turned, seeing the commotion and seeing Bob so desperately clinging to the back, completely ignoring any sense of fear from the walkers. "Just let it go!" Tyreece called out, but Bob was adamant on pulling the bag up. And Daryl had leaned forward to retrieve the bag from him. "What's so damn important in here, huh?" Daryl mumbled to himself, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a bottle. A bottle of what looked like whiskey. "All that for a drink?" Daryl reached his arm up to lunge it away, but Bob let out a yelp. "Please," he pleaded, "don't. It's just for when it get's quiet." Daryl was seething, why should he listen to his cries? He was on a selfish solo-mission. "Just give it to him." Michonne sighed, still wary of her footing as the walkers were clambering for their feet. "I can't believe this shit!" Daryl exclaimed, Bob's eyes fixed onto the alcohol sloshing around in Daryl's hands. "Should've left ya to die out there, we been so nice to ya. Y/N's been so nice to ya, and ya don't care one bit." "You take a sip of this before these meds get in our people," Daryl stepped to Bob, a menacing expression on his face as he shoved the bottle into his chest, "I will beat your ass into the ground."

It was a silent trip home, Daryl in the front seat with his head on the window. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about whether you were dead or alive. He was praying for the latter, and Daryl never prayed. In his life, he was so anti-God but when it came to you, he'd try anything. So seeing the familiar prison gates, Daryl almost leapt out the car whilst it was still rolling. He'd taken the bags of supplies straight to the quarantine zone, throwing it over to Herschel and sitting impatiently by the window. The window you'd always talk at, pressing your hands against it together, the one he hoped wouldn't have to separate you any longer. He had nothing to do except wait. He'd anxiously play with the ends of his hair, biting on his lip whilst he waited for any signs of progression. He sat, completely alone, just waiting for you. Completely unaware of the time passing around him. It wasn't until Maggie spotted him, and approached him slowly. "Everyone's taken the meds, they just need rest." She confirmed, and his heart lifted. "She's okay, but I think you need some rest too." "Thanks." Daryl spoke softly, a small smile on his lips as Maggie had exited the quarantine zone. He'd only waited a little while longer, until admitting defeat for the night.

The next morning, Daryl was up and spent the morning outside. Fixing the fence, stabbing some walkers in the skull, the usual daily tasks for him now. He'd accepted that you'd needed your rest, at least you were alive. But the weight still sat in his chest, even knowing you were on the mend, he wanted you. He needed you. Bob's selfish actions yesterday were now but a passing thought, he was solely centered on you. So he'd eaten some food, spoken to Carol, gone about his day as he usually would. Except you were missing. It had gotten to the evening, the sun setting behind the trees and it was a sight he wished to experience with you. "Hey handsome," he heard behind him, his head snapping to the direction of your voice, seeing you stood, weakly, against a wall. "Oh my God," he tried to speak, but it came out as more of a whimper. He'd abandoned his smoke, throwing it onto the ground before wrapping you into his body. Feeling your skin on his, your voice blessing his ears, it felt too good to be true. "Dar," you croaked, "too tight." You giggled when he'd released you, brushing his hands down your back, not wanting to take his hands from you.

#inbox 💌#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon imagines #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd daryl

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venerawrites · 8 months ago

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Hey, could you write some Gaara angst. He and his fiancé fought over something and the argument was that bad where he said things that he shouldn’t have. His fiancé has to leave for a mission the next day,a dangerous one at that. Things go wrong on her mission and she’s now in the hospital and it’s hard to say if she’ll live or not. Gaara is in complete emotional distress and guilt because he feels that it’s his fault that his fiancé might not live.

Have a lovely day!

author's note: I saw "she" in the request, so I am rolling with a fem! reader. It's not a secret I love writing angst, so I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you like it as well! <3 Thank you for requesting!

warnings: none, other than reader can be a little bit annoying in the first half lol

This is not how the evening was supposed to go.

As the last day before your two-week mission, you imagined it as a romantic day, filled with lots of laughter, kisses, and good homemade food, which you had spent all day making.

A screaming match in your fiancé's office was definitely not part of the plan.

"Lower your voice", Gaara sighed, his fingers making their way to rub soothing circles on the side of his forehead. You had stormed into the Kazekage's building about an hour ago, and while your demeanour was progressively getting worse and more aggressive, somehow he had still managed to remain collected.

"Excuse me?", you let out a scoff, marching towards his desk and slamming your hands on top of it, "Don't command me like that! Who do you think you are?"

The words triggered something inside of him and he abruptly stood up, slamming his hands right next to yours and getting right in your face. His eyes, usually calm and inviting, were now cold and dark, showing that there was a storm brewing inside of him.

"I am your fiancé, but most importantly your Kazekage", he gritted his teeth, emphasizing his title, " I know you are upset and I said I am sorry! But your shenanigans stop now!"

Tilting your head, you remained silent and narrowed your eyes, determined not to give up on the little staring contest you had going on. Pressing your lips together, you moved your jaw in annoyance, your breathing heavy with the pent-up frustration.

"Well, guess what, Kazekage?", your words came out almost mocking, while a small sarcastic smirk appeared on your face, "If you tired of dealing with my "shenanigans", maybe you should run and complain to your little friend from the Leaf. I am sure he would be more than happy to hear we are on the verge of breaking up because of him."

"Are you hearing yourself?", Gaara finally raised his voice, moving away from the desk, while running his hand through his red locks, "Break up because of Naruto? You are being absolutely ridiculous, Y/N!"

"I am being ridiculous? This is our last day before my mission and you decide to spend it with Naruto!", you screamed, shaking your hands in the air and making a few steps towards him, "One would've thought that you two are engaged, instead!”

A dry chuckle made its way past his lips and he shook his head, trying to calm his mind. Gods knew he loved you more than life itself but in moments like these he questioned how fate decided to bring you together, considering you were polar opposites.

Gaara was a calm, collected, and reserved individual. He was extremely hard-working and devoted to his nation, so naturally every decision he made was always centered around the well-being of others. He always carefully considered all his options before acting, and rarely resolved to action, if the problem could be resolved peacefully with talks.

You ,on the other hand, were hot-headed, impulsive, and stubborn. Always acting before thinking, you often fail to consider anyone else's needs and wishes in moments like this, too blinded by your selfish desire and feeling of injustice. Unlike the red-headed shinobi, who you described as your "better half", you faced problems head-on, even if that meant you would regret it later.

There has always been some tension between you two, even since you met during your Chunin Exams, but no one believed you would get together, especially after Gaara went through his life-changing phase when he realised the importance of friends and family.

Yet, years later, here you were - a Leaf shinobi who transferred to Suna and was engaged to the Kazekage. Somehow your clashing personalities worked in harmony and you managed to bring the best out of each other.

Well, most of the time...

Today, after he decided to spend the whole day with Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi, thus resulting in him having to work through the evening, was not one of these times.

While the Leaf ninjas were your old comrades, it was not a secret that you did not share a close bond with them, especially with the blonde.

Naruto has openly vocalized his opinion that Gaara is too good for you and he can find a better, calmer half, who would compliment him as a future spouse of the Kazekage. He always made it clear that while he did not exactly hate you, he did not approve of you.

In response, you did not hide your thoughts about their friendship and the fact that your partner was giving him too much credit. Of course, Naruto did have some role in his decision to change for the better, but ultimately it was Gaara who did all the work. Additionally, the blonde was loud, assertive, and loved to poke his nose in other people's business, including your relationship.

"Y/N, enough!", your fiancé's voice boomed, his aura suddenly darker, "Do not talk about my friends like this!"

"Do you keep the same energy when he talks about me?", your brow raised, "When he says how I don't deserve you and tries to fill your head with the craziest ideas about us!"

Gaara let out a puff of air, before turning around and marching towards you. Stopping just a foot away, he lifted his hands towards you, laying them on your shoulder.

"I. Had. Enough!", he hissed each word through his teeth, a sign he was really pissed off at you now, "No one talks about you and no one is trying to fill my head with anything! I don't need anyone to tell me that we are incompatible when I can clearly see that myself!"

The insults and swears that were ready to fall from your mouth got stuck in your throat and your eyes widened for a few seconds, before narrowing again.

"What are you getting at?", this time your voice was quieter, but still with a note of challenge behind it.

Suddenly there was a spark of uncertainty behind his blue eyes. Slowly removing his hands from your body, he walked towards the window with his back facing you.

"I think we need a break. It's just... It's not working anymore", he murmured, gaze focused on the peaceful streets of Suna. He found it easier to say what he was thinking right now if he avoided looking at you.

A minute passed.

Gaara expected you to scream at him, swear at him, or even grab something from his desk and throw it at his head. But when he heard the door of his office opening and slamming shut, he jumped in surprise. Turning around, he found the spot where you were standing just a minute ago, empty, while your diamond ring shined lonely at the edge of his desk.

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

It's strange how distorted a person's time perception becomes once they are eagerly waiting for something.

Two weeks, which usually flew by, given his busy schedule, now felt like an eternal nightmare for the young Kazekage. Eaten by the guilt of how your last conversation ended, he severely punished his mind and body by refusing to eat, drink, or socialize with anyone outside his work. He practically lived in his office and if it wasn't for Kankuro to send him to shower every morning, after working the whole night, he probably would had not set a foot outside.

This morning, however, he refused to do even that. You were supposed to come to report about your mission any moment now and he shifted nervously in his seat, mentally rehearsing the apology he wanted to say to you.

An hour passed.

Then two.

Gaara kept glancing towards the door, yet no one entered, except his secretary who kept dropping piles of paperwork on his desk. He tried to question if any ninjas have showed in the building today, but she kept shaking her head "no" with an apologetic smile on her lips.

Finally, just after noon, a small, barely audible knock reached his ear and he immediately straightened his posture and fixed his hair, before giving his response. His eyes gleamed with anticipation and he stood up, ready to greet you back home.

His, smile, however, quickly dropped once he saw that only one of your teammates, Bumi, entered his office. Covered in scratches across his face and hands, he looked like he had taken some rough beating not long ago. Gaara's blood froze.

If Bumi, the largest and the most skilled ninja in your squad, looked like this, what has happened to you?

"Lord Kazekage", the man greeted, before bowing his head. He made his way towards the desk and placed a tightly wrapped scroll on it, but his gaze remained cast downward.

"The report for our mission."

"Where is Y/N?", the red-headed ninja asked, not even glancing at the document given to him. He had a bad feeling about what was happening and Bumi's lack of eye contact and nervous twitching did not help to ease his worries.

Your teammate looked up, meeting Gaara's intense stare for just a second, before clearing his throat and focusing on his shoes again.

"She...", he stopped, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another, "Um... she is not here at the moment."

"I can see that", the Kazekage pointed out, completely unamused, "Which is why I am asking - where is she?"

Bumi moved uncomfortably again, before letting out a sigh and taking a seat opposite his red-headed leader. His knee kept bouncing and he nervously shifted around his seat, before opening his mouth again:

"The Elders warned me not to tell you... yet."

Gaara's glare hardened and he crossed his fingers on top of his desk. Pressing his lips in a thin line, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising feeling of panic inside of him.

"You answer to me, not the Elders", he almost growled, his eyes not moving away from your teammate. His jaw tensed and that was enough of a sign for Bumi to spill out what was on his mind

"She is in the hospital", he blurted out and Gaara's breath hitched. His fingers started to tremble and he quickly placed them on his knees below his desk, a poor attempt to cover the shock that hit him when he heard the other male's words.

'Maybe it is just a check-up', he tried to reason in his head, 'maybe it is nothing too serious.'

Almost like he read his thoughts, Bumi decided to continue:

"It all happened so fast", he looked down, mentally reliving what happened just this morning, "We were on our way back when we were ambushed. Y/N... She has been acting weird the whole mission. She kept missing her shots and her reactions were slower than normal... I don't know what happened, but it was almost like she was not herself."

Cold sweat started forming on Gaara's temples and he felt his heart speeding inside his ribcage. He felt like he wanted to jump out of his seat and run to the hospital, but it was almost like his body was disconnected from his brain and it chose to stay frozen in place.

"So when this ninja swung his katana towards her stomach, it was too late for her to block it or move away...", Bumi gulped, his eyes now glossy, "The doctors said the cut was so deep, it damaged some of her insides too. And by the time we arrived, she also lost a ton of blood. They... They are not sure if she can make it."

Gaara always considered himself a man who knew what pain was. He has endured so much during his childhood, that he always thought nothing could hurt him anymore.

But the way his whole soul shattered the second he heard you may not make it, was a whole new type of pain. One that pointed its ugly finger to his face, screaming "It is all your fault!", while simultaneously creating feelings of rage and bloodthirst... feelings that stayed buried deep inside of him for years.

"Which village?", was all he said, his blue eyes now empty and staring at the blank wall at the opposite end of his office.

Bumi gulped, standing from his seat. The look on Gaara's face... He has not seen that look since their Chunin days. He was about to sneakily exit the office when the Kazekage's cold gaze fixated him on the spot.

"They had Leaf headbands...", he mumbled, before quickly adding, "But they could've gotten them from anywhere. I don't believe our allies-"

His words were interrupted by the Kazekage's hand which lifted in the air, cutting him mid-sentence. Getting up from his chair, he grabbed his hat, before walking past Bumi towards the door. Thousand different thoughts and ideas were racing through his brain about how he should deal with the situation, but they ultimately led to his need to see you straight away.

The last words he said to you kept echoing in his mind and he felt like throwing up. If he had shown up for your scheduled date night, if he had kept his tongue behind his teeth, if he had shown up at the gates the morning before you left... maybe you would be here, with him, instead of fighting for your life.

He knew he had to get to you, to be with you and somehow beg you to stay with him. But before that, he had one final request to make:

"Gather the Elders and the War Council", he instructed Bumi, while making his way past him, "Our alliance with the Leaf is over."

cc artwork: concept art for "Assassin's Creed: Mirage"

#gaara x reader #gaara imagine #naruto imagines #gaara of the sand #gaara angst #naruto angst

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dreamofjoys · 1 year ago

Text

𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓 ！

♡ A/N: Hello to everyone! I am excited to announce that I will be participating in kinktober 2023! This is my second time participating, so Im quite excited for it. There's a lot for me to write so I seek your understanding that I might not post them on the day itself (school is starting mid october eek but I will try and get it done). Last year's kinktober was focused solely on twisted wonderland but this year there will be other fandoms as well, and it will also be more plot focused? Hopefully that makes it more interesting. Only posting on some days

♡ Brief C/W: Dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, pregnancy, double penetration, stalking and many more (will update as it goes by but will state in more details at the start of each fic). Everything is strictly character x fem/afab readers only

♡ General rules: Minors DO NOT INTERACT, No mean or rude comments (why read when I already stated the warnings and synopsis?Just block if don't like or uncomfy) and lastly, DO NOT ASK FOR PART 2.

♡ Participating fandoms: Genshin Impact (Neuvilette, Wriothlesley, Zhongli, Ayato, Alhaitham), Honkai Star Rail (Luo Cha, Jing Yuan, Blade, Nanook, Dan Heng, Dan Feng), Twisted Wonderland (Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Leona Kingscholar)

♡ P/S: Everything is subjected to changes! Some fics are still in progress of brainstorming.. you can try to req and I'll see if I want to take up the idea. Just putting out the masterlist early to test and see how things go. Might make some changes here and there but it honestly just depends on my situation and mood. Also teasing you guys and adding some sneak peaks lol (I genuinely hope it's good) You can literally guess who will be in the fic base on the title. Will only open taglist if there's a demand.

DREAMOFJOYS KINKTOBER 2023 COLLECTION

DAY 1-7 ; 7 minute in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

— Characters involved: Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR) — Synopsis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it? — Story parts: 1 / 2 /3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Day 9-11 ; The Demons of Xianzhou

— Characters involved: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Feng (HSR) — Synopsis: There has been a legend of demons existing and residing in Xianzhou for a long period of time. Surely, they can't be one of your closest friends, right?

Day 13-15 ; In the name of Justice

— Characters involved: Neuvilette, Wriothelesly (Genshin) — Synopsis: Two of the most well known men in fontaine has fallen head over heels for you. They claim that everything that they do is for the sake of justice

Day 18-19 ; Egg Incubator

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: A young maiden was chosen by her village and was sacrificed as an offering to appease the 5 dragon gods who were terrorizing their land. She plots to escape from them, but can she really succeed?

Day 20 ; The General's Slave