#her missions genuinely made me so sad :[
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my dear arthur...
#consider me one of the five mary fans in the world#her missions genuinely made me so sad :[#also thinking about the time when arthur was writing about mary in his journal and he made her name so pretty and delicate 😭#oh arthur....#my art#personal#digital art#fanart#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#arthur morgan#mary gillis#mary linton#marthur#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 mary linton
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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Four
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Warning: Obessive behavior, Yandere tendencies, su*c*de/death.
A/N: Finally adding warning labels. We’re getting somewhere. I’ve had some of this written out, but had to add some stuff in to drive it home. Reader’s coping skills are failing, but everyone’s starting to get obsessive. Also, I’ve been fighting myself on drawing art for this. (I’m a bit out of practice.)
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Reader has basically called befriending Damian and Jason a lost cause.
Bruce still avoids reader. And, everyone else is still busy with what Reader assumes is Batwork. (Which is fine, Reader is fine. It’s not like they’re stuck in the manor pacing the halls every damn day.)
Cass and Duke’s get back from their respective missions. They weren’t gone too long, but they’re come back a bit roughed up. They debrief with Bruce and then have to go back to being civilians.
Reader is waiting to comfort them. Not to confront them. Reader’s more concerned with how Duke has a mild limp and how Cass’s knuckles have some bruising than them ditching. Plus, reader is still not completely sure that her family is Gotham’s vigilantes. They need to confirm.
But, Duke and Cass both appreciate Reader checking on them and not asking questions. Cass suspects Reader suspects something, judging by Reader’s body language. But, it’s nice for someone who’s naturally soft to be soft with you.
Duke appreciates how Reader treats him so, normally. In a way it reminds him of his childhood, when things were easier. He has a normal friend now, completely mostly free of Gotham’s crazy.
Reader is happy their back, but disappointed that they won’t be going to the school gala. In fact, a few family members make comments about how it sounds like a waste of time.
Bruce, however, is actually happy Reader is excited. And, Reader gets even more excited when one of their new friends ask to be their date. Reader’s date is so genuinely excited about going to this Gala with Reader. (Uh-oh, that’s not good.)
Some of Reader’s other friends, the more haughty and wealthy ones, tell Reader that they should’ve picked someone more… refined. Which Reader defends that their Date is perfectly sweet and good looking to boot.
But, this leads Reader to decide not to tell anyone in the family about their date. They don’t want to hear the same thing from their Gotham family. Reader does inform BFF, younger brother, and Nana of their date. For some reason, BFF was a bit disgruntled, and even Nana tried to convince them it was probably best not to go. Younger Brother was encouraging reader to have fun. (But he was whispering into the phone, and asking Reader if he could come visit them soon. Please. People are acting weird here. Is everything okay, do you need me to come home. No. No. Don’t— It’s fine. I just wanna come visit you.)
But, reader was committed to going and enjoying their date and wearing their custom made outfit.
That night, Reader was given Bruce’s permission to get ready at one of their friends’ houses. Reader was practically spoiled by their friends, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Their date meet them at the Gala escorting them inside and having a wonderful time. (I hope it last. It’s not going to though. How sad.)
At the end of the night, their Date escorted them home. To end a near perfect night Reader got a kiss. A long and pretty heated kiss. Right in front of the Entrance camera.
Tim had pulled up the camera feed when Reader got home, at Bruce’s request, just to check on Reader. (He was going to do it anyway.) The entire family was winding down from Patrol in the Batcave when the feed came on. Leaving them all to get a front row seat to Reader’s little act of rebellion.
(That’s all this was, right. Just a little act of rebellion. This won’t happen again, obviously. They won’t fucking let it.)
Bruce is livid. It doesn’t help that Jason wolf-whistles to further enrage him. (Jason is making plans to break someone’s leg though. Possibly the Dates. How fucking dare they corrupt you, that’s his job.)
Stephane is honestly impressed, didn’t think Reader had it in them. (How cute! I wonder what we could get up to together.)
Duke, sweet Duke, didn’t want to see that. His (best) friend getting tongued down on camera. He’s going to need bleach and therapy. (Why would you do that? When you can just game with him. You’re his bro. Gross.)
Cassandra is… understanding. Reader has needs. Reader wants affection. That’s fine. But, not that one. Pick someone else. (Llet her pick, actually. You can’t read people like her, you need someone better. Someone you she can trust. She needs to approve of them first.)
Dick is more disapproving, but he understands. Still, this changes how he sees Reader. Sweet innocent helpless Reader has a wild side. (But still reader is clearly helpless, obviously they don’t know what they’re doing.)
It also changes how Barbara sees Reader. Or confirms. Barbara runs under the assumption that Reader is more like Bruce than anyone realizes. (She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she thinks.) Bruce is a bit of natural flirt, he just hides it in his ‘Brucie’ persona. Reader apparently takes after that. (Damian sure didn’t.)
Damian, is disgusted, disappointed, and disapproving. He doesn’t doubt Father will scold you, but your date needs to be dealt with and all other suitors as well. (He’ll take care of it. He’s your brother, that’s his job.)
Tim, however, is legitimately jealous. He wanted to see this side of reader first. He got a glimpse of it before, but he wants it for himself now that he sees the full thing. (Also, right in front of the camera? Did Reader know it was there? If they did, would they be okay with Tim filming them more? Just to observe, please.)
Tim immediately starts pulling up all the information he can about Reader’s date. Without Bruce’s prompting this time. Bruce does nod in approval before marching to the entrance. Intent on putting an end to this and giving Reader a firm talking to.
It goes, horribly. Date is forced to leave and Bruce tears into Reader. (What happened to the outfit I bought you? Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? I didn’t approve of this. I don’t care that you’re back on time or that you’re old enough, you’re my child! Mine! You get my approval first.)
Reader stays composed, barely. The good news is that the brutal scolding is the only consequence Reader faces. (Bruce is more upset about Reader not seeking his approval than doing something he disapproves of. He’s your father. He should have a damn say. Would you have done this to D̴̖̞͑̊̓a̷͎͗̇d̸̜͍̩̓̎d̸̪̩̟̆̎y̶̛̼̌? Why are you doing this to him?)
The bad news, Reader’s date’s life is over. With just a few clicks from Tim and approval from Bruce, Date’s family company falling apart. Reported to the government, lawsuits filed by third-parties. Hidden debts needing to be collected NOW. Any misfiled taxes? Found and reported. And, most importantly, all calls and ways for Date to contact reader again, blocked.
Socially and financially, Date’s life is ruined in less than twenty-four hours. Worst of all, Reader doesn’t know. They’re still on cloud nine about the night, despite Bruce’s lecture. But, come Sunday morning, two days later, things fall apart.
Date is reported dead. Apparent suic1de just the night before. The financial implosion of the family was named the apparent reason.
Reader is distraught, confused, and hurt. What happened? What’s going on? This can’t be happening. I don’t want to lose anymore people I care about. I don’t want to lose someone like Momma and Daddy again.
Reader’s Gotham friends console Reader, saying it’s not their fault. That Date struggled with thought before. Don’t blame yourself. (They weren’t worth your time.)
Surprisingly enough, it’s Dick that finds reader having a borderline breakdown.
Dick clings and coddles and coos, but this time. Reader clings back. Reader clings back tight. Desperate for comfort. Which is surprising for Dick.
Most of the family tends to brush off his attempts at comfort until they hit rock bottom. For once, this isn’t someone hitting rock bottom before they need him. This is someone that’s just genuinely sad and overwhelmed and needs wants him.
Dick also ran under the assumption that Reader was allergic to affection, like Damian and Bruce. But, apparently, that wasn’t the case. It’s a nice feeling. To have someone not fight him when he tries to be comforting. Someone who is happy to take it. Of course, he doesn’t stay long. Once Reader pulls themselves together he’s got to get back to Buldhaven, but this time he leaves a bit slower. (But, him leaving somehow makes Reader feel worse.)
#dc x reader#yandere batfamily#yandere dc#yandere batboy#yandere batfam#platonic batfamily#platonic batfam#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere jason todd#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere damian wayne#yandere duke thomas#yandere bruce wayne#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#platonic yandere#romantic yandere#mentions suic1de
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hold it
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
Prompt: Pussy Slapping
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex, praise, subspace but miguel doesn’t bring her back (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 1.4k
A/N: a few things- not a lot of Spanish cus people made me too nervous abt it. the prompt doesn't really factor into the story that much imo, sorry- not feeling super good abt this one tbh :( (not proofread)
He slaps you again and your teeth dig into your lip to keep your cries in. “Keep it in, sweetheart. I’m not breeding you so you can waste it all.” You nod frantically at him, aiming to please him as you clench all your muscles and try your best to hold his cum inside. You watch a satisfied smile spread over his face and his fingers come down to your pussy and spread your lips, watching your hole twitch. “That’s it. There we go, good girl.”
Your entire body is sensitive from how he’s been using you. He came home desperate to breed you and why would you refuse? Once he came in you though, he told you to hold it in, to keep all his cum inside you to ensure it takes, but your weak, post-orgasm body and your post-sex hazed brain couldn’t keep up.
You’re laying back on the pillows, one leg over his thighs and he’s sitting halfway between your legs. His eyes are stuck on your pussy, watching the way you quiver to hold his load in, especially with how he’s been teasing you. He’s mesmerized by the sight, some of his cum already leaking out, a small stream breaking through as you whimper at your lack of control.
You try to hold it in but eventually, your body gives up, too over-stimulated by his repeated slaps over your clit, the wet sound it makes when his hand connects with your pussy. He has this teasing, amused smirk on his face every time your body trembles after he hits you. You couldn’t handle it. Miguel grabs your thigh that’s in his lap and spreads you open further, watching as you twitch and let go, letting his cum slide out of you and onto his sheets. Then he slapped your pussy the moment he could see his cum sliding out of you.
“I told you to hold it.” His voice is stern, non-negotiable, and sends a shiver down your spine as you tense all your muscles again. He laughs quietly, low and teasing. “I’m just gonna have to fill you again.”
He tuts at you, gives a disappointed sigh, and crawls back between your legs. You’re deep in subspace, wanting nothing more than to please him and taking his sigh as real, genuine disappointment. Tears well in your eyes and you whimper your apology as he lines himself with your entrance. “M’ sorry, Miguel. I-” You’re cut off by him sliding inside you, forcing a sob-like moan to fall from your lips. His eyes snap to your face at the sound, he’s climbing up your body and cradling your face within seconds.
“What’s this? You wanna stop, sweetheart?” You shake your head vigorously and wrap all your limbs around him, holding him close to you, pressing all his warmth against yours, and leaving pleasured cries in his ear. “C’mon, talk to me, amor.” He hasn’t moved inside you but his hands haven’t stopped caressing your body. He slides up your back to the base of your neck and gently pulls you away from him. Your eyes are closed, little tears resting on your lashes, chipping away at his heart. You sniffle once and try to tilt up into him, forcing his cock to slide against your walls in the way only he can. Instead, he forces your hips back to the bed with a soft grunt and looks back at you expectantly. So you give in.
“Jus’ wanna be good for you, Miggy.” Realization, sadness, and relief course through him. He hadn’t noticed you were so far gone, too caught up in his own mission, his need to fill you again and again, but the fact that he missed your needs because they were clouded by his own sends a pang of hurt through his heart. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, nose then lips. You moan sweetly against him, hands instantly coming up to tangle in his hair and pull him closer to you. He pulls away and gives you one more kiss before looking deep into your eyes. “You’re always good for me, sweetheart. You’re doing so well for me, baby.”
He feels your clench on him at his words, a soft smile coming to his face at your predictability. You pull him closer to your face, just centimeters from his lips, and grind yourself up into him, earning a gentle moan from his lips. “See? So perfect, amor.” He thrusts into you, deep and hitting your G-Spot on his first try. His name comes out of your mouth as a shout, your nails dig into his back as you try and stabilize yourself.
His hips speed up, starting their more brutal pace, knocking any stray thoughts loose from your head. He’s fixated on your face, hyper-vigilant to your reactions, making sure you’re enjoying yourself, that he’s giving you everything you need. He’s already desperate to cum in you, his cock still sensitive from the load he gave you a few minutes ago. You’re letting out high-pitched, passionate moans into his room, filling the space with sounds of you and your soaked pussy. His cock twitches inside you at the sound and you feel it.
You let out a desperate moan and slam your lips into his, wet, needy, and messy. His spit ends up all over your face, you’re just trying to lick at him, into his mouth, over his lips, anything he’ll give you. Your desperation has his moaning raggedly into your mouth, his hips slamming into you harder, his tip bruising your cervix as he abuses it. “I love you so much, Miggy.” Your words stab arousal through him like a hot knife, slicing through his entire being. He collapses over you, groaning your name into your neck, almost deafening you with their volume.
You’re always so soft for him, it’s almost painful how much it turns him on. He’s been slapping and abusing your pussy all night and you’re still so in love. You re-angle his head, forcing him to focus on you, watching the love that you’re pouring into your gaze. It’s making his balls tingle, and tense when they slap against your ass. “Te amo más bebé” His moan is smooth with the words as they slide from his mouth.
(“I love you more, baby”)
His muscles draw tight as he cock twitces inside you. “M’gonna fill you up. Gotta-��� He tilts your hips toward him, forcing his cock deeper, pressing into your cervix almost painfully and he whimpers at the feeling. “-llegar tan profundo como pueda. Make sure you can keep it all in, bebé.” His hips begin to stutter and shake against yours as you tighten endlessly around him. You’re so out of it, all you can feel is the pleasure he’s giving you and your orgasm that’s about to snap in your stomach. Miguel grinds into you one more time, shaky, slow, and hard. You’re cumming around him. You moan a garbled version of his name, so loud and wrecked you barely recognize your voice in your ears. The sounds are ravaging Miguel though, they’re sending shocks through his body and he suddenly can’t hold on any longer.
(“-get as deep as I can”)
He hunches over you, forcing his cock deeper, sending a new explosion of pleasure through your body with the sensations. He’s flooding your wet heat, painting you, coating your walls completely in his seed as he moans your name into the sex-scented air. He mutters love notes to you on repeat as he lets out rope after rope of cum into you. He’s breathing in his shaky breaths along with the scent of your hair as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and pulls out slowly. You whimper at the loss of his stretch and it oddly warms his chest, that you still want him after he’s been with you since he got home.
He grabs a little towel on the side of the bed and wipes himself down before turning to do the same to you. Only to find you with your fingers buried deep inside yourself. He would be hard again if he had anything left in him. He basically runs back to your side, wanting an explanation but instead getting an even more erotic scene. Your eyes are on his, looking like you’re pleading for something and he can’t decipher what. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?”
You nod at him eagerly and little tears well in your eyes. “M’keepin’ it all in for you, Miggy.” He’s stunned to silence at your words, unable to believe how deep you are. “Tell- Tell me I’m good—? I’m- Am I being good?”
He almost passes out. He feels his sensitive cock fattening up again. Apparently, he does have something left in him.
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
#miguel ohara x reader#miguel smut#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miggy o’hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara spider man#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara#2099#sm 2099#miguel 2099#marvel 2099#miguel o hara#astv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel x you#atsv#kinktober 2023#kinktober#kinktober smut
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some thoughts on the moana 2 novelization, as threatened promised <3 under a readmore for spoilers and also because I don't trust myself to keep it short
(friendly reminder that I do not ship Maui and Moana! you can rb, but don't be weird about it)
Genuinely right off the bat I can't get over how loving Moana is described to be? She just loves others so much. She always describes Pua and HeiHei as her friends rather than her pets because of how much she cares about them!! it's so stupid cute that not only does she refer to Pua as her "loyal, adorable friend", but it's also implied that she handmade the little satchel he likes to ride in just for him. It eats me up inside!! She cares so much!!
The center island she's looking for is spelled as Motufetū!! I always love getting confirmation for these things, it makes things so much easier as a fic writer.
One of the souveniers she takes back with her alongside the broken pottery is a "massive clam". hello???? foreshadowing??? did everyone know about the giant clam guardian??
"For a man who had once forbidden her from going beyond the reef, he now spent quite a lot of time beyond it himself." AUUWHAAHHH THAT LINE KILLED ME WE LOVE TO SEE GROWTH FROM TRAUMA
"He loved her enthusiasm, but she seemed overexcited, and she was still his daughter, and he wanted to take care of her" MOANA!!! IS!!! SO LOVED!!!!
Loto's tool is called an adze! also she's apparently only 17?? two years younger than Moana?? not at all what I would've pegged her as, honestly
The storytelling tapestries are called siapos!!! more terminology!!!
"Her eyes darted to the image of Maui carved into the wall. She hadn't seen him since her return to Motunui, and she missed him. Not that she would admit it out loud" STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU
"Humans, were in fact, why he was here now, in this unknown realm of the gods looking at the pinkish white ball in front of him. At least, he thought that might be why he's here. These missions to benefit humans didn't always come with clear instructions" immediately followed by thinking about the trip to Te Fiti with Moana. What a dumbass <3 "I'm doing it for them and I don't know why? totally unrelated note haha that trip to Te Fiti with Moana was fun :)"
Never saw any of that journey coming, never could brute force his way through it, worth every second. Only considers getting the hook back as an afterthougt, ougghhhhhhh
Homeboy sucks at pretending that he doesn't care about Moana. He's talking to Matangi for all of two seconds and he's all "I'm a changed person! For um. no particular reason! It was definitely because of the thousand year isolation and nothing else whatsoever!"
There's no finite explanation for why Maui's there, but he credits Moana for making him a better person for being the reason. Something about breaking the curse? It's never made clear, even in the book.
Mini Maui selling him out for bullshitting about hating Moana is even funnier in the book, like Maui goes "yeah lol that girl was just a tool I uused to get my hook back" and Mini Maui starts pounding on him. Homeboy Moana can't even hear you and you're still mad at Maui for bullshitting, it kills me. Maui tries shooting him down. "Mini Maui wasn't convinced" has me in stitches
Maui's internal dialogue shifting to "oh wait, yeah, I wanted to surprise her with a visit. Oops." while he's tied up also has me in stitches. ffs, maui, get your priorities straight
"He refused to let Moana be hurt or threatened" I am on the floor
Every time Tui calls Moana "my dear" it adds ten years to my lifespan
The siapo of Maui in the storytelling fale is so lifelike that "it's as if he were about to jump off the fabric at any moment and start teasing her." that's so stupid cute!!!! also so stupid sad that she probably talks to it a lot hoping that it'll work someday. ough.
"Maui was having a bad day. Actually, he was having a lot of bad days"." feels like it was pulled right from a fic I would've written in 2018, I'm screaming
"I don't need her to save me...again" swallowing the earth as we speak
Curly still being the default nickname is also taking me out I need to be given financial compensation asap
There's a parallel that got lost in translation from page to movie, there's the bit where Moana's like "I'm sure Maui's off doing important demigod stuff, wherever he is", but there's also a bit of internal monologue where Maui's like "I hope Moana's faring better than I am, wherever she is" I'm gonna conk their heads together y'all need to communicate
The book directly mentions Moana and her crew passing Te Fiti. Did I miss that from the movie? Did they show Te Fiti, or is this a book-exclusive detail?
Their little Kakamora buddy has a name!! Kotu we don't deserve you. Also he's the Chief Kakamora's son! I just thought he was second in command. That's a whole baby
Maui knows who Pua is, somehow! He sees Pua waddling around and his first thought is "okay, this is weird, why do these people have Moana's pig with them?". Doesn't even remotely click that she could be with them. He's actually about to leave until HeiHei shows face and boy is he absolutely mortified. It eats me up inside. Instant shift of "goodbyeeeeee random humans I don't liiiike!!!" to oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, where is she????
Incredibly suspicious that Moana is the human that has all the gods talking. Something too about Maui having to force himself not to care about her. Did someone do a little too much bragging about his favorite human?
"I thought you'd be...more." okay a) I def think Maui's been overhyping her and b) haha More callback we love to see it
Also, Matangi's just a demigoddess! Not a goddess at all. interesting, interesting, interesting
Moana also sucks at priorities, one single mention of Maui and she instantly shifts to oh, oh my god, is he here? is he nearby? where is he?
Moana recognizes the Portal of the Gods as similar to the entrance to Lalotai...does that mean Lalotai is connected to the Realm of the Gods, in some way? are they the same place under a different name? also all :') that the dance she does to open the portal is specifically meant to be a copy of the haka that Maui did in the first movie.
You know, I think you need her just as much as she needs you. WHAT DOES IT MEAAAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN??? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM???? YOU NEED EACH OTHER??? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW?? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW????
The first thing Moana does when she's back on her canoe is look for Maui because she thinks he's gone 🥹 wants to go back and look for him until she realizes he's the reason she's dangling in the air. Did he stop her from falling off the canoe? ough, I'm deceased
I can't get over Moana assuming he just wants to catch up, they are both such chronic babblers.
"His expression was both happy and annoyed." I'm losing my shit.
"But yeah, it is good to see you again" 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹.
"The fire in the sky lead us to you" can we stop with the written in the stars stuff. can we stop. my poor heart can't take it. platonic soulmates fr. "maybe we're supposed to do this together." THE GODS KNOW!!!! THEY KNOW!!!
"Maui bit back a smile." kill me. kill me. i'm dead on the spot. kill me.
Ohhhhh, I always love seeing what they do in place of the songs and the replacement for "Can I Get a Chee-Hoo?" kills me most of all, I think. Maui still goes to sit with her, but when Moana starts talking about all the people she's gonna let down, he comes to a screeching halt when she mentions Simea.
"If anyone should be upset, it should be me. Since when do you have a sister?"
"You would've met her, if you ever came to visit me." OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!!! She's trying to tease him but there's a tinge of hurt in her voice, like she feels like he doesn't care enough about her to take the time for her!! You need her as much as she needs you!!!!!
"Three years is a blip to me, princess," says the liar who thought about her on a near-daily basis!!!!
"Empathy wasn't Maui's strong suit. But he seemed to be trying- for her. and that dulled the pain a little" i am in my grave. i am in my grave.
"Why are you even here?" -> "Because...because I've been low before, and I couldn't see my path. And someone came along who I underestimated and she lifted me up. Someone I don't want to underestimate herself right now." THROWING UP!!!!!
"Wow, you're the worst at this." -> "Maui pretended to look offended" conking their heads together as we speak they are so SWEET!!!!!
Maui giving her all the credit for being the one to defeat Nalo!!! not himself!!!! her!!!!!!!
"Maui said he was better for knowing her. That had to count for something" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
It still destroys me that Maui's entire priority is keeping Moana safe!!! He's not just diving in to fight, he keeps going back to make sure they're all safe!!! that's all that matters to him!!!
God their little exchanges are so stupid they're killing me. "Nalo doesn't care about you!" "Yes he does! I'm Maui!!" "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!" dumbasses <3
oooh he really doesn't want to separate, his eyes keep going back and forth between Moana and the monster storm :')
Okay. okay. okay. listen. there's a lot more to Maui's goodbye in the book than in the movie. In the book it's an apology. It's a rushed explanation on why he hadn't gone back to visit her prior. He lied about not having the time for her. All his time has been about and for her.
The reason I didn't visit...was 'cause you made me want to be better. You deserve the whole ocean...I wanted you to have it. Watch yourself out there. I could pull up millions of islands, but if you're not there to land on them, what's the point?
FOR!!!! HER!!!!! EVERYTHING!!!! IS!!!!! FOR!!!!! HER!!!!!
He hated leaving Moana and her crew behind,
He trusted her.
God, coud you imagine? First movie Maui, getting his hook destroyed? Those three words hold more power than anything. He trusted her. If anyone can do this it's her. He trusts her. He trusts her.
His thoughts kept drifting back to Moana. Nothing else matters!!! He could be all full of himself and think about how heroic he's being for The Humans (other) and all he's thinking about is his Favorite Human.
The thought of failing her pushed on him as the weight of the water grew heavy.
WHO WROTE THIS!!!! WHO READ OUR FANFICS!!!!! WHO KNEW!!!!!
His tattoos glowing with the power of the gods the first time he tries lifting Motufetū.....were there other gods that were helping him? are there gods who know?? Te Fiti if you're out there,,,,,,,,,
Moana rushing to protect Maui when lightning barely misses him the first time is.........destroying me?? taking me out??? imagine being protective over a demigod literally pulling an island out of the sea. imagine trying to take many hits for him. using her conch shell to call out to the storm to hit her instead? Maui yelling at her to Not do that? probably because it's breaking his own heart to watch?? ough.
"It went against every instinct, but Moana knew she had to listen to him." THAT'S ALSO GROWTH!!! KEEPING THEM BOTH SAFE BY NOT PUSHING HERSELF FROWARD!!!! GROWTH!!!!!
Maui getting hit by three strikes of lightning, and he uses what he thinks are his last dying moments to say goodbye to Moana. He locks eyes with her, gives her a sad smile, and yells Find your way, kid. Just to her. Just loud enough that she's the only one who can hear. and oh boy is this book brutal about that fourth and "fatal" lightning strike. It's strong enough to fry him. It launches him up so high in the air that Moana can't even see him
So, uh...fun fact! The reason Moana doesn't instantly dive in the water to go after him is because she thinks she's too late and that he's dead on impact. She doesn't even see him hit the water.
"Moana gasped as she felt her necklace pop open and her shell- Simea's shell- toppled out. Frantically,she reached for it, ignoring the danger around her. She couldn't lose that shell. She had already lost so much."
She thinks of everyone she loves when she's about to dive into the water and reach for Motufetū herself and Maui's among them right alongside her family. God. If there were ever a more indirect found family confirmation............
Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky and filtering through the water. Moana hoped that her crew was okay. That Maui had somehow survived. RIGHT!!! FROM!!!! THE FICS!!!! I SWEAR THIS IS PULLED RIGHT FROM THE OLD FICS!!!
His hook was missing, but he didn't care. He dove in after Moana. Hi, yes, 2018-era me is screaming out from inside me. She's clawing her way out of my chest. This is everything she's ever needed.
Fun fact part two! I don't remember how it was in the movie, but Maui watches Moana die too!! I think in the movie he just sees her still body on the surface of Motufetū, but in the book he dives under the water just a moment sooner and helplessly watches the lightning strike through her body. He watches her go still and sink towards the ocean floor :) Now they both have the trauma of watching each other die! :) :)
He tries desperately to catch her before she hits the floor but there are multiple instances of him being knocked back by a shockwave :') The gods sure have found his weakness!!!
He pushed through it. Nothing was stopping him from reaching Moana.
The grieving!!! The grieving is so fierce!!
Isn't it fun?? He practically has a burial ceremony for her! He catches her before her body hits the floor, and he places her gently on the surface of the island so she can fulfill her story! God! I'm unwell! He places Simea's little shell next to her body so Moana can be close to her sister one final time!
Then, kneeling next to her, he put his hand to his heart. It rested on the tattoo of Moana that had appeared after their last adventure. It had been his constant reminder in the three years since how strong a human could be. 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
It's just...he doesn't even realize the ocean is creating a dome around them! He's that grief-striken!!
The ocean knows them. It knows what they need. He calls it Moana's. Moana's ocean. aUGGHHHHHH.
Hey so all of that talk about Maui not allowing himself to let the gods know that Moana's his friend and then he's begging them. He's begging the gods and her (her? his? huamnity in general?) ancestors to save her because she deserves more than this. she deserves better. If any of the gods knew nothing of the two of them they sure as hell did now, ohhhhhh boy is that gonna screw him over later :')
So the book never explicitly states she's a demigoddess either! It very ominously states that She'll never be the same.
Moana gets to see her ancestors this time! I can't remember if she woke up before they disappeared in the movie, but when she wakes up her thought process goes wait, where am I? to oh, shit, MAUI?!?!? to TAUTAI VASA? TALA?? HELLO??? someone please invent therapy already she's gonna need it pretty desperately
god imagine if she thought maui was also dead?? she doesn't but ohhhh. ohhhhhh the angst potential of her thinking they're all there to see her off. god.
Shock and awe. That's all Moana can get out of Maui's expression when she catches him staring.
Mini Maui, the more accurate voice, is bawling his little eyes out when he sees that Moana's okay
Moana understands the implications instantly. and she knows that she's only alive now because Maui prayed for her
"Arching an eyebrow, she nodded over her shoulder. It was time they raised an island- togehter". SICK!!! TO!!! MY!!! STOMACH!!!
"She saw Maui, a familiar comfort in this uncharted territory" [AGGRESIVE TABLE SLAMMING] THAT'S FOUND FAMILY BAYBEEEEE
:') there's a big group hug with Moana's crew and Maui tries to wiggle his way to the center. That's almost shot for shot a scene from one of the first Moana fics I ever wrote back in December of 2017 :') turning into a little lizard and skittering into the center of the hug where Moana is because he wants a proper hug too :')
Okay so I definitely know for sure that when it says the villagers of Motunui are shocked Maui's there because they've heard so many stories about him that it's just the regular old legacy stories. but listen. let me be deluisional. it's because Moana always tells stories and Moana's like. known around the island as his best friend. so it's like!!! oh!!! there he is!!! Tautai Moana's best friend!!!! :')
He calls Simea Mini Moana!!!! weeping and sobbing
Simea's big brown eyes familiar. He Also calls Simea tugging on his ear Very Familiar. That's so stupid cute. I wonder if he ever visited when Moana was out voyaging and he ran into Simea if he'd be able to tell that she was her little sister? :') also hilarious because I'm sure it implies Moana told him Simea wanted to yell at him and he went "yeah okay that's fair"
(still lowkey sad Maui never gets included in the family hugs. Ohhhh if they ever found out what he did to save her they'd pull him straight in for sure)
MAUI STAYS!!! CONFIRMATION THAT HE STAYS!!!!
He stays long enough for things to calm down. He and Moana head out by themselves to help their little Kakamora buddy reunite with his family (cough cough)
Moana goes from "that kid" to his "dear friend." cherished. beloved. it's not even relelvant to the plot. He just smiles at her and goes "where to now?" and it's just. that's his dear friend!!! god!!!! so beloved!!! that feels like it holds even more weight than best friend!!!
god. god. I really gotta write a fic where they talk about watching each other die
good shit!!! gooood shit!!! I'm gonna be screaming about this forever. god.
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Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Sadness, realizations.
Word Count: 633
Previously On...: A phone call in the middle of the night sends Bucky to Jade's side at the med bay to help her through a "panic attack," which you're sure she's faking. You warn Bucky that if he keeps going to her, you might not be willing to take him back.
A/N: I didn't realize some of these parts were so short. They were difficult to write, so they took a lot of time, and therefore seemed longer. I feel like I'm drawing out the inevitable, and I probably am. I'm sorry!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1
When you woke up a few hours later, Bucky wasn’t back. You checked your phone. It was well past the time you’d planned on leaving to go Upstate, not that you were surprised. He’d text you, apologizing, telling you that Jade was too emotionally distraught to be left alone for the time being, but he promised to be back soon, and you’d still make your trip. You knew the promise was hollow. You didn’t believe he was sleeping with her, not really, but the situation was becoming untenable. You’d always said you would never try to control who he could or couldn’t be friends with, but you began to wonder if it was time for an ultimatum. The idea of imposing one sat poorly with you; it wasn’t the kind of girlfriend you wanted to be, but you felt he was leaving you no choice anymore. Every boundary you had asked him to keep with her, she’d somehow find a way to push him past.
He wasn’t blameless in the situation, you knew that. You knew he loved you, wanted to be with you, but how many chances could you give him to put you first, only to have him fail you? He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he was a genuinely good person who saw someone who had suffered as he had, and who wanted to provide support in a way that had been denied to him, but he was doing it at the expense of your relationship, your heart, your fucking sanity. He was taking you for granted, assuming that you’d always forgive him. And why wouldn’t he? You’d done it each and every time before.
You got up and got dressed, trying to find a use for your time so that you weren’t incessantly staring at the clock, waiting for Bucky to finally decide to make time for you. You suddenly remembered the request that Sam had made of you the night before– that you check the Tower’s systems to see if Jade had attempted to access anything that might set up red flags.
Grabbing your laptop, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a bagel and glass of juice before curling up on a chaise lounge in the common room and began working. It was going to be a time consuming task; the Tower’s systems were massive, but you’d built a good portion of them yourself, so it was a lot like wandering the forest in your own backyard.
Hours later, you were rubbing your eyes, regretting that you had left your glasses in your room. The sun was low in the sky, hovering just above the city skyline. Standing up to stretch, you cracked your neck and lower back before shooting off a text to Sam.
>>Just ran a check of the Tower systems for Jade’s footprint.
Ole Sammy: And???? Don’t leave me hangin in suspense, Baby Girl!
>> And, nothing screaming ENEMY AGENT.
>> She accessed Bucky’s unlocked files.
>> Like, a lot.
Ole Sammy: Creepy, but not surprising.
>> No, considering she’s fucking obsessed with him.
Ole Sammy: Unless…
>> Unless what, Samuel?
Ole Sammy: Nothing. Just a thought. Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.
>> Stop being cryptic. Tell me.
Ole Sammy: Not unless I have proof to back it up. I don’t want to make accusations without evidence. Bitch’s scary AF. Besides, she could kick my ass.
>> Pretty sure I could kick your ass.
Ole Sammy: Only if I didn’t have my wings!
>> Not the flex you think it is.
Ole Sammy: How’s Upstate?
>> Wouldn’t know. Jade had a ‘panic attack’ in the night and has needed Bucky by her side ever since.
Ole Sammy: That dumb ass mother fucker! How much longer you gonna put up with this shit, Baby Girl?
>> I’ll talk to you later, Sam.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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One with Emily Prentiss I BEG.
Maybe one where Emily is a mission and keeps making promises to come home in time for Christmas. But on Christmas Eve r loses hope completely and just goes to bed crying because she really misses Emily and then in the morning Em has a much of gifts that she’s setting up in the living room, there’s breakfast and everything. maybe a quote like, “I promised I’d come home in time, didn’t I?”
idk this is my first time requesting
Love’s Silent Night
(Not my gif)
Emily Prentiss x fem!wife!reader
WARNING: 18+ MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED, slight angst, happy ending
Y/n sat in the living room watching the same christmas special for what seemed like the 50th time. Truly, all that she wanted to do is start a fire and curl up next to her wife and watch some christmas movies. But of course, work calls.
———————————————
“Em! Please! It’s literally almost Christmas and you’re leaving for another case?” Y/n exclaimed, crossing her arms clearly distraught, “I know, baby, I know. But-“
“-Duty calls, Yeah, I know, Em. Every year.”
Emily smiles sadly, knowing every year they had spent Christmas apart because of work. And it affected both of them, but this year it was different. The house felt emptier, the blankets seemed colder, and the bed didn’t seem as cozy. It was safe to say that this year wasn’t the best in terms of marriage and staying functional. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, love” Emily said, her face genuine, “And when will that be? January? Last year you came home in the middle of March. Not a single word from you for months..”
Emily’s face suddenly fell. She knew that it hurt y/n every year when this would happen. She also knew that their marriage suffered because of it. “I’ll be home for Christmas, that’s a promise.”
———————————————
Y/n checks the clock. It reads 9:53 as she still lays motionless on the plush couch. It was Christmas Eve, maybe y/n had gotten her hopes up too much. Every year this would happen, so why would this one be any different?
Lugging herself off of the couch she mindlessly threw herself into bed. The bright Christmas lights peaked through the window. It was sad, honestly. It really was. Y/n’s friends pitied her, ‘What’s the point of having a wife if she can’t even be home with you for a day?’
Y/n would brush them off, saying that Emily is trying her best. Which, sometimes Emily didn’t even know if that was true.
Taking a glance at her phone it lit up with a message, Y/n hopefully picks it up and reads it. Sadly, it was from JJ instead of Emily. The case is taking longer than expected! Sorry, n/n! See you soon?
Y/n smiled bitterly, of course, this would happen. She felt the last trace of hope leave her and her tears began to sting. There was that heaviness in her chest and her bed grew colder. In all honesty, y/n didn’t care about Emily coming home for Christmas. She just wanted her home, the sound of blowing wind lulled her to sleep. Letting the cold winter night consume her.
Soon enough, the smell of…hot chocolate? It had lingered in the air, y/n was she sure that she hadn’t made any. It also smelt of pancakes and…Emily’s perfume…
Leaping out of bed, the sleepiness leaving her, the faint sound of Christmas Jazz playing, y/n sprinted down the stairs with a hopeful feeling in her chest and her smile stretching from ear to ear. As she turned to look in the living room, she heard a familiar giggle. “Looking for me, love?” Emily smiled, teasingly holding up a mistletoe, her Santa hat had perfectly matched her plaid pjs and black sweatshirt. Y/n didn’t waste any time to dive straight into Emily’s arms and into a warm and longing kiss.
“I said I’ll be home for Christmas didn’t I?” Emily smirked, y/n rolled her eyes, “I’m just happy you’re home…safe”
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x female reader#screams#it’s christmas time#criminal minds#Christmas
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For the Sake of Appearances
It's obvious that Eden Academy is a superficial place, despite the efforts of Henderson and other teachers to uphold its educational mission. Like any elite institution, most of its students hail from rich families and don't actually need a degree from Eden to be more than comfortable in life. Most of them are there acting as proxies for their parents, to accumulate even more wealth and power, often by schmoozing with people higher up on the chain like the Desmonds.
Twilight of course is aware of the dynamics and rules of the game at Eden and is playing to win. He crafts an upper middle class cover that will fit in decently without being rich or powerful himself. He looks for a smart child. He looks for a wife. Because apparently only children with two parents can get into the school.
Throughout the whole story so far he has been concerned about his family's image, both so his cover won't be blown, and so that Anya will advance Plan A or Plan B. He is sensitive to Anya acting out of turn, like punching Damian, or falling behind academically and having no talents with which to gain extracurricular Stellas.
Back when the Imperial Scholars Mixer chapters came out (before I joined the fandom), I'm sure there was a lot of discussion about the moment Anya made her speech to Damian and said this:
The sadness around Anya not knowing whether her adoptive father even likes her dominates this chapter, at least for me. But on a second read I thought about Twilight's perspective here.
For someone who has been so worried about appearances -- making sure his family can at least pretend at cultured tastes and manners, somehow pushing Anya to get good grades or preventing her from failing (by breaking into the records room), and ensuring his own image is immaculate -- one might expect that Twilight would also worry about appearances here. His daughter just admitted to his chief target's son that she doesn't know if her father loves her. Is that not breaking the facade of a loving nuclear family, which he needed to project at the Eden admissions interview?
But, sadly, having a loving family isn't actually a requirement among the many appearances people have to keep up in the Eden crowd. Damian himself is exhibit A on that front. Both his parents hardly ever bother to visit him or talk to him, and as we see in Chapter 104, it's made him avoid going home except when none of his family members are there. From a utilitarian perspective, it may be good that Anya said this to Damian, so she could appear empathetic to his situation.
What is really interesting is that we don't get any of Twilight's inner thoughts about Anya's speech, probably because he's so focused on Donovan's arrival. All we see is an "Anya..." which could be Endo hiding any further insights on Twilight from the audience, or Twilight genuinely not knowing what to think, or Twilight turning off his over-analyzing tendencies for once and even forgetting to worry about appearances, because his daughter really got to him with that speech. If the latter is true, it might explain his behavior during the cruise arc where he tries so hard to please Anya, with the whole "I'm a normal father. A good father," piece. Bit by bit, he starts to care about more than just appearances or outcomes, and shows through his actions that he wants Anya to be happy. He doesn't tell himself that her happiness is for the cover or for the mission as often as before.
I really do hope that in some future chapter we get a callback to this scene in Chapter 37 where Anya was uncertain whether her father likes her. After 103, where we even got a brief flashback to their first day out as a family overlooking the shopping street, I feel a bit more hope that at some point Twilight will give Anya the reassurance she needs directly or indirectly.
Or maybe, Anya has already figured it out, from all the things he's done for her and how his behavior has changed gradually since that day in the courtyard.
#spy x family#loid forger#anya forger#spy x family manga#spy x family analysis#agent twilight#damian desmond
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CHAPTER 13: TEGAMI
ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader
Your mouth is a thin line that he wants to kiss. He knows better, though. The distance he’s standing away from you is a demonstration in patience itself.
ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , masturbation, implication of bdsm, angst... AND fluff <3
ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k
ੈ✩ a/n: soooooo sorry for how long it's been here's a love letter about satoru being a sad down bad pathetic wet kitten for you. disgusting
playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist
April, 2011
Satoru doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s pathetic, really.
He realizes that even when you were just a ghost in his house, helping your mother with her duties, you were still there. Ever-present, always available for him to play with when you were kids, to stare at as a teenager. Even when he decided he’d ignore you, you were still there. Always. It was what he was used to. It was what made him believe that you always belonged to him.
He hates being wrong.
It had been two months since he’d last seen you, and to say that he was in agony was a fucking understatement.
Shoko would never hear the end of it. Satoru knew that he was beyond annoying, always has been, but lately, Shoko’s patience was a frayed thread.
“She needs to be her own person, you leech,” she’d snapped at him the day before.
The amount of gin and tonics she had couldn’t even cover the amount of hours she had to tolerate Satoru, who wasn’t even being an emotional drunk at the moment. That, she could deal with – he was a lightweight after all. He’d probably knock out eventually. But no, he was this annoyingly lovesick while sober.
“She is her own person! She can be her own person next to me!” he whined.
“You know what I mean, idiot. She couldn’t do anything without you glued to her leg. The space is probably good for her.”
“Well, it’s miserable for me,” he muttered under his breath.
Bribing Shoko with alcohol wasn’t nearly enough for her to continue listening to his woes. There were times she thought about relaying the information to you, suggesting that you’d throw Satoru a bone just so he could stop being so fucking whiny about you, but she knew both of you better than that. She dropped some hints but was mostly met with an eye-roll, which… was fair. It was about time the strongest got over himself.
He knows he’s obsessive. He can’t help it when it comes to you.
It wasn’t like you fucking died – yet there he was, stewing in his own grief. He’d go on his missions and exorcise curses with the intention of bloodshed. Beyond grief, he often only felt rage, and it was the only thing that felt close to good.
The only thing as violent to him as love was rage. When love was tumultuous, it shook his world, felt indescribably pivotal in the context of his life. It was pathetic, the way he felt about you.
The missions weren’t enough.
He’d tried everything — smoking cigarettes (he hated the taste), smoking other things (his brain would be fucked and so would his cursed technique), and drinking (Shoko had to cut him off one too many cocktails far too many times).
Fucking other girls didn’t work. They would irritate him to hell, smelling much too sweet, being way too loud in a way that would grate his ears. It’s not like anyone else could touch him the same way you could, either. God, he hated it when they would try to take control and put their hands where they shouldn’t. Manicured hands grabbing at him that felt foreign.
He couldn’t tolerate it. It was always better when he could shove them into the pillow, pretending their muffled moans were yours. He could think of you in enough detail to cum.
Satoru had already heard through the grapevine that you were fucking that Zenin brat. He remembered having to deal with Naoya at clan meetings when he was younger — perhaps it was ingrained in his birth that Zenins were his natural enemies. Either that or the fucker was genuinely that annoying. Probably both.
Every time he thought about it for too long, he wanted to punch something. The only reason he didn’t bother to warn you because you were already deep in it, the naive little girl you were. You were too stubborn for your own good, always. There was no use.
He should probably just kidnap you. Handcuff you to his damn bed, even if you’d hate it.
But he won’t. Not any time soon, hopefully, if he can control himself. You’ve successfully ignored his texts (maybe you blocked his number?) and definitely threw out the bouquets he’d send (he watched you do it the first time and it took everything in him to not confront you right then and there).
He doesn’t know what to do, truly. So for now, he lays in his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about your eyes. The image of them finds him anyway, along with your nose, your mouth, your—
Fuck. He shouldn’t.
Yaga would absolutely give him shit if he was late for the meeting, but he doesn’t care. He’s already half-hard in his trousers and he’s only thought about you for less than two minutes. It’s about time he’s had a cathartic release — he’s been dreaming about your hot, panting body underneath him for weeks.
He spits in his mouth while his other hand frees himself from his pants. He groans when he palms himself, imagining your delicate hands, your eager eyes. After all these years, you would still look at him with a certain innocence as you’d palm him, your mouth watered. He missed it desperately.
Do you still think about him, now? He had been your first, your only for so long. He had to be at the forefront of your mind when you touched yourself, when your cunt got wet at all. Right?
Maybe you’d even thought about him back in high school. Satoru likes to imagine this, that ever since you were child, you had a little schoolgirl crush on him. He tries not to think about how it’s the other way around, that his desire for you had been there since he’d known you.
He misses the shape of your mouth when you gasp his name. He can almost hear it now as he strokes himself, his groans mixing with the wet sounds of his cock rubbing against his palm.
You’d always been a little shy about being loud, ever since your first time. He remembers it so vividly.
S’good. Feels good. Come kiss me.
His mind wanders to the image of Suguru’s hands on you. Suguru’s cock deep in your pussy as his own cock rutted into your mouth. He groans at the faint memories. He hates that he can only chase them like a distant mirage.
The warmth that pools in his stomach threatens to rise and choke him. He feels feverish everywhere as his hand moves faster. He’s so fucking close — he thinks about himself ramming into you. You whining as you clench around him. Your hands all over him.
He grunts your name as he cums. Satoru rolls his eyes back as he spurts, covered in himself. When he comes down from his high, he gasps a few short breaths as he stares at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Body flooded with ecstasy, then shame. Enough shame for his insides to twist uncomfortably, as if he feels the need to go to confession for the mere act of what he did.
The warmth in his body only lasts for so long.
June, 2011
The handprint on your thigh stings. You’re used to rough treatment, could argue that you might even like it. You’re not, however, used to being degraded.
You’ve always liked the feeling of being wrung out. Satoru and Suguru had liked you pliable, a vessel for them to turn inside out. Soft insides. Soft enough to bruise.
You should’ve known that when you started living alone for the first time, some men would take advantage of that. You didn’t realize that you could meet a man that was even more demanding and childish than Satoru.
“You have too many clothes on,” Naoya mutters, pawing at the strap of your bra. You had taken the day off because of the heatwave. Kyoto was rising to ungodly temperatures, and you were hoping to spend the day lying on the floor in front of the fan. Of course, the fucker had other plans.
He was much more charming after the many encounters you’d had at the bar. Now, it was embarrassing to be with him. You weren’t exactly with him, though Naoya thought you owed him a few crumbs after the occasional dinner date. The sex fulfilled the deepseated desire you had for more pleasurable times, but to think about those times would only make the void inside of your chest ache. It was ultimately better to be used up, distracted.
“I should make you a fucking clan princess,” he murmurs, nibbling on your ear. You’re only half-conscious during your second round. Your attempts at redressing were not met kindly.
He laughs when you whimper. Knows how much you hate it when he talks like that, how it probably reminds you of the Gojo brat.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’m going to be the head after all.”
He’s all talk. Maybe he means it, maybe he doesn’t. You don’t care either way. At this point, you’re just using his dick to get off. The violence is a little cathartic. You’d forgotten what tenderness felt like and refused to turn back, as if to punish yourself.
Naoya was always quick to mount you, making your thighs feel whipped. Flesh all lashed from his grabby hands. He was a little drunk tonight, which made it all more annoying.
Luckily, he comes fast because of it.
“You’d make a good wife,” he says as he lights up in your bed, billowing smoke in the direction of the fan.
“Shut up.”
“I mean it. Sweet girl,” he grins, lip curling. “I’ll be a good head, too. You can be my right arm.”
You look at him, half-amused, half-pissed. “I’m good.”
“I know,” he scoffs. “Everyone in my clan’s an old fucking fart. You’d probably be into my cousin, to be honest, if he didn’t fuck off like a runaway.”
You pause. “Why’d he run off?”
“Dunno. No one’s heard from him in a while. Maybe he’s finally dead from trying to kill sorcerers. Toji was basically useless without a technique anyway.”
You freeze at the name. You think of getting pistolwhipped, of a mouth scar. Zenin Toji?
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothing,” you dismiss, fiddling with the buttons of the blouse you’re putting back on. “I don’t blame him for running off.”
July, 2011
You’ve always loved the myth of Tanabata. It was a story your mother loved to tell.
Star-crosssed lovers separated by the Milky Way, only bound to meet once a year. It reminds you of someone when it shouldn’t. You shouldn’t yearn for his presence. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him.
You’ve moved on. Maybe.
You’re lost in thought about the myth when you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. When you look up, you see Utahime leaning on the door of the greenhouse, watching you cut saplings and fill egg cartons with dirt.
“You’re not going to be cooped up in here for the whole festival, are you?”
“Hm?” You look up to see her smirking at you with her arms crossed.
“Gakuganji gave us the day off. You know that, right? For Tanabata?” she raises a brow.
“I know that,” you huff. “I’m just… catching up on stuff.”
“You’re finding excuses to not leave campus. Shoko’s visiting.”
Your ears perk up at that. You hadn’t seen Shoko in months. Admittedly, you didn’t often pick up the phone, let alone text back. You tried not to be on your phone too much at all, otherwise you’d look through old photos and messages that you had no business reminiscing about. It would be nice to see her.
“When is she getting in?” you ask.
“In about two hours. Get your kimono on and meet us at the school entrance? We’re gonna go write wishes at Kiyomizu-dera.”
You nod in agreement. It would be nice to go out. You consider the barren state of your room, the empty bottles of plum wine under your bed collecting dust and spiders. Anything was better than holing yourself up there, especially on a holiday like this. You’d always enjoyed watching the fireworks, at least.
Your heart feels a little lighter when you get to hug Shoko later that night. She’s wearing a pink kimono with a floral pattern, something more feminine than you expected. You almost don’t recognize her without a cigarette in her mouth and lab coat draped over her shoulders. When she’s with Utahime, her face is brighter. You’re almost envious.
“Wish for anything special, baby?” she taps your cheek, feeding you a skewer from her yakitori.
You think of your messy handwriting scrawled onto a red tanzaku. You imagine one miles long enough to fit a whole letter. Maybe you should start journaling.
“That’s a secret, isn’t it?”
She grins knowingly. “I missed you. I didn’t just come here for Hime, you know.”
“Don’t worry, I begged her to come for you, too,” Utahime quips, fixing her braids.
“You did not beg,” Shoko scoffs. “You know I’d never miss an opportunity to see my girls.”
You feel too warm in your kimono. Part of it is the heat, part of it is that Shoko was rather reliable in getting you a fix, meaning that you were immediately treated to a round at an izakaya before heading out to the festival. While the buzz through your skin doesn’t exactly translate to comfort, it’s enough for you to wade your way through the crowd without a care to get yourself some takoyaki.
You freeze when a warm hand touches your shoulder. You’re stopped by him before you can even round the corner.
His hair’s a mess, white tufts spiked up in haphazard peaks as if he’d just woken up. The black sunglasses make him look out of place, so does his entire aura. Satoru was always a lean giant, legs going on for miles with a grin like a cowboy. Normally, you’d fall victim to it. Right now, you’re mostly in shock.
“I could’ve paid for that, angel,” he coos.
Your stomach flips. Satoru was very good at having horrible timing. Maybe it was the universe itself taunting you, but the Six Eyes has always been more calculated than that. He must’ve planned on seeing you.
You swallow back the taste of something acrid crawling up your throat.
“What are you doing here?”
Before he can respond, the girls had already caught up to you, staring in disbelief in a distance. When you glance back at them, Shoko mouths an apology before pulling at Utahime’s arm and ushering her away.
“Why did you—”
“I didn’t come with Shoko,” Satoru interjects. He shifts uncomfortably like a teenager telling a lie. “Most of the Gojo clan is in Kyoto, remember? My, uh, parents wanted to come for the festival.”
Your mouth is a thin line that he wants to kiss. He knows better, though. The distance he’s standing away from you is a demonstration in patience itself.
He doesn’t have to tell you that he’d arrived the day before, stalking the Kyoto campus just to see what you were up to. He chalked it up to boredom, the same as checking up on an ex-fling on social media, if hovering around the greenhouse for hours was considered casual.
“It’s good to see you,” you say. You tell yourself it’s a lie, just a filler for politeness. You know that you’ve been aching for him since he had kissed you in the winter.
His heart flutters in his chest, begging to burst, but he doesn’t show it.
“It’s good to see you, too.”
You smile at him awkwardly as you play with the fabric of your kimono. You clear your throat.
“Have you seen Shoko or Uta yet?”
“No, not yet.”
His voice is wary, like he’s walking on eggshells with you. He searches your face for any emotion beyond indifference. The slight smile on your features is mild, and he’s sure you’re only putting it on for him.
Satoru is sure you’re begging for a way out. Truthfully, he wants to steal you away, take you to the shore so he can pin your body down to the ground, feel the softness of your skin. He’s had too many wet dreams about it that it almost feels like a prophecy in his head.
So he lets you lead him to Shoko and Utahime, who both smile politely but maintain a visible proximity to you. He doesn’t blame them.
He should be tired. He almost rejected the offer from his mother to go on “vacation” for Tanabata since he’d come back from a three-day long mission — Yaga had attempted to arrange a sort of mentorship between Satoru and some new first-years. It was mostly a bust considering a special grade had emerged after the initial grade twos. Satoru was forced to hold his weight, of course, so he came back exhausted, too tired to go away.
When his mother mentioned that they’d meet with the clan members from the Kyoto quarters, he was suddenly eager to go.
Now you are here in front of him and his heart feels like it’s going out of his ass. You look beautiful as ever. He notices how much you’ve grown, staring at you with reverence. It’s not like you look so different than the last time he saw you, but it’s been a while since he’s seen you like this. In something more formal.
You’d only wear kimonos on holidays. He remembers watching your mother sweep up your hair with little sticks, jade charms hanging from your ears. He couldn’t be around you then, back when you were kids. Not when he was stupid and hormonal and trying to get over you in high school. His chest hurts in the same way as it did back then.
You share your takoyaki with him as you walk to a quieter part of the festival. There’s a garden by the large festival grounds, hydrangeas blooming and kissing the archway of a gate. They’ve been everywhere you see in Kyoto since the rainy season ended.
Satoru clears his throat. You raise a brow at him.
“What?”
He stares at you, his mind blank. You don’t look like you’ve missed him. You don’t look at him the same way you used to, with that certain tenderness that he always liked. He almost reaches for you.
“You look…”
“Hm?
He swallows hard before continuing. “Beautiful. You, uh, look beautiful. That’s all,” he mutters.
“Thanks. You look good, too, Gojo.”
Gojo. When was the last time you called him by his last name? Not since you were in his estate, sweeping his damn floor. It stings more than any disparaged look you could give him. At least when you’re a little cold to him, he feels the need to rile you up. He’s always liked to challenge you that way.
You not even using his first name is a harder blow than anything else.
“Oh, wow,” he chuckles meekly. “Big downgrade, huh?”
“Excuse me?”
“You called me, uh–” He coughs nervously. “Just– nevermind.”
Your stomach twists with guilt. He looks like he’s about to cry.
“I missed you,” he blurts out. The distance between you two is driving him insane.
“Uh, I know. Shoko told me.”
“You smell like cigarettes.”
“Yeah?”
His palms feel sweaty. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, can only list stupid facts like that’s a fucking conversation. You’re smoking too much. You look beautiful. I’ve been dying for months because I haven’t been able to kiss you.
“And… amber. You still wear that perfume I got you?”
You sigh. “Yes, I do.”
His eyes brighten so quickly it’s almost pathetic. He blinks at you wetly like a child, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms and bury his face into your neck. To inhale you.
His skin itches.
“Sorry for being weird.”
“You are being weird.”
You didn’t anticipate seeing him. Hell, you never do, even when you were together and sleeping in the same bed as him. His presence was like a lightning strike, unbearable to look away from, beaming with so much light that it hurt your eyes.
You almost feel ashamed when your stomach flips at the intense eye contact.
Satoru is at a loss for one of the first times in his life. He doesn’t know what to say. Wants to say it with his hands instead, his mouth. He shouldn’t. He bites the inside of his cheek, softly grimacing at the way you’re speaking to him — it’s so unlike how you used to be. Quiet and warm and soft.
He huffs. “Yeah, well. S’your fault.”
You roll your eyes. His lips twitch into a smirk. Finally, a reaction from you. He’d like to make you react more, push your buttons. At least then you’d give him attention.
“Do you even care that I missed you?” he complains, pouting.
You smile lightly at that. “You always miss me. Even when you saw me every day, you missed me.”
Fuck.
He really, really wants to touch you. His face heats up slightly, his hands twitching again. Aching to feel your skin.
“Yeah,” he says without shame. “Because I always want you.”
He continues to stare at you. You know he’s being genuine, but the way he’s always been so candid with his feelings felt like he was taunting you. It’s always been a bit of a game for him, seeing how far he can go before you break. But he knows you’ve always seen through him. You were the only one who could, besides —
"I’m not used to not having you around,” he confesses.
“I’ve lived in Kyoto for like a year. You survived, no?”
The look he gives you is mildly offended before he snorts. It’s a stupid thing for you to say. He’s not a child. He can survive just fine without needing you around. It doesn’t matter that you would take care of him after missions before, that you’d take care of him out of obligation when your mother had worked in his estate. He didn’t need you. It’s what he tells himself every night before he dreams about you. It’s a lie that he repeats in his head, hoping it will stick eventually.
“Survived is a bit of a stretch. I’ve been miserable, Twigs.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He hums and tilts his head.
“Why?” he says, taking a step towards you. “You don’t like it when I do?”
You say nothing. He’s gotten so close to you now that his body brushes against yours. The height difference is a bit more stark now, and he’s looking down at you with that same cocky expression that you’re used to seeing.
“I like calling you Twigs,” he almost whines.
“It’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not.” He reaches out to you, his fingertips tracing down your jawline, then your chin, tilting it upwards ever so gently.
“My pretty little Twigs,” he says in a soft voice, as if talking to a child.
“Satoru.”
“Finally calling me by my name, huh?” he grins at the way it sounds from your mouth, even if you’re irritated.
He thinks that you could be screaming it, threatening him with a fucking weapon or your cursed technique, and his eyes would still be as big as the moon with twice as the amount of love.
“Don’t.”
He doesn’t listen. He’s too preoccupied by your face, by the feel of your skin under his touch that he’s missed for so long. His thumb brushes across your bottom lip as his fingers still hold your chin.
“Still as beautiful as ever,” he murmurs.
“You always do this,” you scoff. “I tell you I need space and you don’t give it to me. It’s like you enjoying disregarding my boundaries or something.”
He scoffs back at you. “Or something,” he repeats.
Satoru takes another step until you’re fully pressed against him. His hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers playing with the edges of your hair. It’s satisfying when you give him a reaction, and your expression of annoyance makes him want to grin widely. He holds it in, not wanting to make you outright angry.
“Your boundaries are inconvenient,” he says. “And pointless. And I don’t like them.”
“I don’t care.”
“Why do you care so much about boundaries, sweetheart?” he teases. “You used to be such a good girl. Always doing what I said.”
Your breath hitches. God, you need to fucking get out of here. At least out of his grip.
He notices it immediately as your body responds to his proximity. The little gasp you make, the way your eyes flutter a little faster than you mean to. It encourages him. Makes him cocky. His hand moves from behind your neck to your waist.
“Always letting me touch you,” he continues saying lowly in your ear. “Letting me do whatever I wanted. You’re still my good girl, aren’t you?”
“You’re a fucking dick.”
“Is that your way of telling me I’m still hot when I’m pissing you off?”
You stare at him coldly and his smirk falters. The look on your face stuns him a bit.
“You’re actually upset.” It’s not a question.
"Yes, I am. Because every time I see you, you just treat me like a fucking toy. It's exhausting."
“Toy,” he repeats, his jaw clenching. “That’s what you think I see you as. A toy?”
The idea of you thinking that he’d ever see you as just makes his chest tighten. It reminds him of when he first started seeing you. The pitiful look on your face whenever he would be stupid and careless, nothing but a fucking toy. He’d like to think that he was better than that, that he could be better for you. He loved you too much to ever actually think of you as a toy.
"I don’t like it when you say things like that. I’ve—" He stops himself halfway. He’s on the verge of giving you too much — of being too truthful and baring too much of himself. “Fuck. You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get, Satoru?”
The words are on the tip of his tongue. He can feel them, how desperately he wants to say it. But he can’t do it. He huffs instead, and turns his head away from you.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Right,” you spit back bitterly. “Of course.”
You’re angry but it isn’t enough. Even with the tone of your voice, you were still rather nonchalant. It’d be better if you cried or yelled or pushed your small hands to his chest.
Anything other than the sardonic treatment he was getting. You’ve always been a little too calm for his liking, even when you were upset. It reminded him of when he would fight with Suguru. You must’ve gotten it from him.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Satoru says, almost pleading. Bleeding with desperation. He takes your wrist in his hands, turns it over so he can trace your veins.
“Sorry for what?”
“For disrespecting your boundaries, and for being a dick, and being so dismissive when Suguru left. For being selfish about you, for wanting you all to myself, for talking to him without letting you know. I’m so sorry.”
He’s prepared for you to walk away as he looks down at you nervously. There’s a heavy silence between you, the distance a growing chasm that he doesn’t know how to bridge. It had all crumbled so long ago and he fucking hates it. He hates how everything has changed. He hates how despite all the pain, he can only stare at you and be enamored by how beautiful you look even when you’re pissed off with him.
You do the last thing he expects. You hug him.
Your body is flush against his and his heart races. It’s like a dam breaks, the way he tightens his arms around you, almost crushes you. Satoru nearly kisses you. The ache in his chest hurts so much.
“God, Twigs,” he mumbles into your hair. “I missed touching you. I missed everything.”
“I know. I do, too.”
You stay like that for a while. Quiet. The sounds of cicadas and street vendors and children from a distance are background noise outside your little bubble.
“I feel like I've been bound to you since we were kids,” you whisper. “I'd hate it. Even when I'm in love with you, I hate it. I just... I wanted to try to be my own person."
His breath catches in his throat at your words, because he knows exactly what you mean. He’s felt it before, too. The strange pull that ties the two of you together no matter where you go. No matter how much time passes, it still seems to bring you together.
“You are your own person,” he says, his voice muffled against your neck. “You’ve always been your own person. And I—“ he swallows, gathering himself. Trying to calm down the heavy thrum of his heart. The dull ache in his head. “I never wanted you to feel trapped. Never.”
You nod, pulling away. You look away from him, your eyes fixed now on the moon. You think of the wishes you made, if anything you wanted would ever come true. If you should be ashamed that all you ever wanted was Satoru.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks quietly.
“Tanzaku trees,” you whisper.
“What did you wish for?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” you roll your eyes.
He pouts. “You never tell me. Even when we were kids. C’monnn, you can tell me. Is it something naughty?”
You laugh and Satoru feels like his body is starting to soar out of itself. Like his spirit jumps out of his skin. Beaming.
“Well, what’d you wish for?”
“You. Like always.”
You scoff, wanting to hide your face in your hands. It almost makes him grin wider. He steps closer to you, his large frame surrounding you, his height blocking the moon from your view.
“I used to wish for you when we were kids, too. I’ll probably wish for you every year.”
You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. He’d always had a way of getting to you. You suppose he always will. His white lashes flutter at your reaction and he steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He’ll keep pushing his luck for as long as he can if he can at least see you smile like that every so often.
He’d be damned if he ever gave up on you. His persistence was exhausting. It was one of your favorite things about him, even when he was unwelcomed.
“Are you surprised or charmed?”
“Neither.”
You sniffle. Dry tears making your face sting a little, but the moonlight helped conceal them. You could feel the weight of his stare making your insides melt and congeal like a hard rock. You’d let yourself reunite with your lover just like the deities.
You used to believe in angels and spirits and eyelash promises. Satoru Gojo at the forefront of it all, every small desire, even if you refused to admit it.
You felt impulsive. It was the banter that you missed. It didn’t even take a drink or two like it usually did, not the proximity that Satoru forced out of habit. Yes, his persistence as annoying. Your willingness annoyed you even more.
You look up at him. Always stupidly tall, white hair blocking the moon from your view. It’s a view you’d seen so many times, wishing you could capture it with a camera, but photography would never be able to do the little halo any justice. Stupidly beautiful, stupidly prophetic-looking. It was like the stars were hung just to complement his eyes.
Your lips touch his gently and it satiates him at first. Calms down the manic need until starts back up again, a groan rolling from his throat as he finds his bearings in your waist. Satoru tries to keep it slow, but fuck, he feels like a virgin again. Heat drunk. As if he wasn’t having pussy every other day of the week to distract himself from the way your hair smells.
You pull away when you hear a faint moan, the brush of something thick against your thigh. You almost laugh.
“There’s your damn wish.”
“What about a buy-one-get-one? Tanabata special?”
“That was a gift. Don’t be greedy.”
“Please, baby?” He ignores your warning, already has kisses trailing down the length of your throat. Dandelion-soft to tease you, but to also restrain himself from biting. “It’s been so long. Let me have you for the holiday. You can be my little weaver girl.”
“Are you going to say the whole poem now?”
“Sure. Something something, Heavenly River. Ano natsu no hi, kirameku hoshi,” he sings, purposefully offkey.
“Is that the fucking closing credits song from the anime we used to watch?”
“Yes,” Satoru deadpans. “It references the folk tale, duh.”
You look at him incredulously. He smiles with all his teeth, blinding white. Too perfect. You should punch the lights out of him, really, but you find your grin matching his.
“Jesus, you’re a nerd.”
#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#geto x you
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Regrets~
Choso x reader (Hella Angst)
I’m in literal tears. Gege, literally sleep with one eye open tonight >:((((
Warnings: Contains spoilers, sad, sad, and sad
________________________
You strolled through the bustling city streets, reveling in the lively atmosphere as you searched for the perfect gift.
"So, when are you finally going to tell him? I’m losing my patience over here!" Yuki's voice burst through the phone, brimming with excitement at the prospect of you confessing your deep love.
"Easy, Yuki. I'll wait until he gets back from his trip. I can't believe you talked me into this. I just hope everything goes as planned," you replied, trying to mask the nerves creeping in.
”Oh come on now, n/n! If Choso doesn’t feel the same way about you, then I’ve been living a whole lie. I mean just looking at him whenever you are around makes me almost burst out laughing because of how red he gets. Or when he can barely come up with a proper sentence to say because he can’t think straight when he is around you. Or the fact that he gets so pissed when he sees you going on a mission with another man besides him. Or when-“
"Alright, alright, I hear you, Yuki," you interrupted, unable to suppress a laugh at her fervor. Despite her convincing arguments, doubt lingered in your mind.
"I guess it's just my own insecurities speaking."
"Tell those insecurities to fuck right off! You and Choso are a match made in heaven. If you two don't end up together, I'll lose faith in love altogether," Yuki retorted, her sarcasm laced with sincerity, eliciting a giggle from you.
"I just hope he comes back soon. It's been two weeks since we last spoke, and I'm getting restless. I miss hearing his voice and gazing into his eyes," you confessed.
"Aww, you're melting my heart over here!" Yuki cooed affectionately.
Yuki’s affectionate response brought a faint smile to your lips, momentarily lifting the heavy weight of sorrow from your heart.
“I’m serious, Y/N,” she continued, her tone soft yet playful. “You two are like characters straight out of a romance novel. It’s about time you two realize it.”
You chuckled lightly, grateful for Yuki’s unwavering optimism even in the face of your own doubts.
“Thanks, Yuki,” you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of warmth. “I needed that.”
“No problem, n/n,” Yuki replied, her voice filled with genuine care. “Just remember, whenever you’re ready to tell Choso how you feel, I’ll be here to cheer you on.”
You smiled, thanking her for always making you feel better.
As you continued to talk to her about the whole situation, you kept your eyes peeled for the perfect gift that would capture the essence of your love for Choso. And then, just when you least expected it, you stumbled upon it: a beautiful, handcrafted necklace adorned with a delicate silver charm. It was just the thing you were looking for.
’Oh, I gotta go girl. I think I just found the perfect gift for Choso.” You spoke.
Yuki’s voice echoed with anticipation as she bid you farewell. “Ooh, I can’t wait to hear all about it later! And remember, if you need any last-minute pep talks, I’m just a phone call away.”
You ended the call as you two said your goodbyes, quickly walking into the store that caught your attention.
You walked right up to where the necklace was and held it in your hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“He will love this.”
You made your way to the cashier, excitement coursing through your veins. This gift, you knew, would convey everything you had been unable to put into words. The depth of your love, the sincerity of your affection, and the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.
“Oh goodness, this is a gorgeous piece. Is It for you or a lucky someone?” The cashier asked, her eyes scanning the necklace.
”It’s for someone. I hope he likes it.”
”Oh honey, I’m sure he will just love it. It is absolutely gorgeous.” She said, scanning the price tag.
”I thought so too. The perfect gift for the perfect man.” You said, feeling a pleasant warmth spread throughout your chest.
”Careful dear, keep thinking about that special boy and soon the blood will rush to your face so soon you’ll pass out.” She teased.
I looked away, a smile creeping up on my face again as I listened to her.
”Here you are, dear. I hope whoever this fine young man is realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you.” She spoke with endearment.
I thanked her and paid for the necklace, leaving the store.
As you made your way home, the thought of finally being able to express your feelings to Choso filled you with a sense of joy and anticipation.
As you entered your apartment, the familiar warmth of home enveloped you, soothing the lingering traces of doubt and uncertainty that had clouded your mind. Settling onto the couch, you retrieved the necklace from your pocket, cradling it with your hands as you admired its delicate craftsmanship.
You decided to turn on a movie to allow time to pass, still holding onto the necklace.
—
As the movie played in the background, you found yourself lost in thought. With each passing scene, memories of Choso flooded your mind, each one a sweet, sweet reminder of the love you held for him.
Lost in the timeless embrace of cinematic magic, your fingers danced delicately over the intricate patterns of the necklace, their movements a silent testament to the depths of your affection. With each stroke, you traced the curves and contours of the pendant, weaving a tapestry of longing and devotion that shimmered in the soft glow of the room.
As the hours slipped by unnoticed, the vibrant hues of the daytime sky gradually gave way to the velvety darkness of night. A symphony of stars adorned the heavens, their celestial glow painting a breathtaking tableau against the midnight canvas. The moon, a luminous beacon of silver, cast its gentle radiance over the sleeping city below, bathing it in a soft, ethereal light.
Beneath the canopy of stars, you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air caressing your skin like a gentle embrace. The city below lay bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, its bustling energy now hushed in the tranquil embrace of the night.
As you stood there, enveloped in the serenity of the nocturnal world, a sense of peace washed over you, soothing the tumultuous currents of your heart. With each breath, you felt a profound connection to the universe, a reminder of the boundless beauty that surrounded you.
Leaning against the balcony railing, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be swept away by the symphony of night sounds—the distant hum of traffic, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, the occasional chirp of a cricket. In this moment of quiet contemplation, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the simple pleasures that life had to offer.
As the night wore on, a gentle weariness settled over you, a welcome invitation to the realm of dreams. With a contented sigh, you bid farewell to the stars above, their twinkling light a silent companion in the vast expanse of the night sky.
As you retreated indoors, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window cast a serene ambiance over the room, painting everything in a gentle luminescence. With each step towards your bed, you felt the weight of the day's emotions lifting, replaced by a tranquil sense of calm.
Nestling under the covers, you cradled the necklace in your hands, its delicate contours glinting softly in the ambient light. As you closed your eyes, the soft rustle of the night breeze outside whispered secrets of love and longing, a soothing lullaby that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.
With the necklace nestled beside you, its presence a silent promise of the love that lay within your heart, you surrendered to the embrace of sleep.
—
As the morning unfolded, dark clouds hung low in the sky, casting a pall over the city. The sound of rain tapping against the window panes filled the air, a somber melody that matched the heaviness in your heart.
Groggily, you reached for your phone, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw a flurry of missed calls and messages from Yuki, her name flashing urgently on the screen.
With a sense of growing unease, you opened the messages, each one a testament to Yuki’s increasing concern:
”Y/n, I’m so sorry.”
“Y/N, are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning”
“Please, answer me. Something’s wrong.”
“I’m coming over. If you’re not okay, I need to be there for you.”
Confusion and worry knotted in your stomach as you quickly dialed Yuki’s number, the anticipation building with each ring.
“Y/N, thank goodness you called back,” Yuki’s voice trembled with urgency on the other end of the line.
”Yuki, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” You asked, confused as to whats got her all riled up
“You mean…you don’t know?” She asked, her voice trembling and breaking.
”Know what? What’s going on, Yuki?” You asked, growing anxious as she kept quiet.
”You need to turn on the news.” She spoke quietly, almost as if she was trying to hold back a sob.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you made your way to the living room, the rain drumming a mournful beat against the windows. Fumbling for the remote, you switched on the television, your heart pounding in your chest.
And then, as the screen flickered to life, your worst fears were confirmed. The news anchor’s voice filled the room, delivering the devastating news that Choso, the man you loved, was dead.
Shock reverberated through you, a numbness settling over your senses as you struggled to comprehend the enormity of the loss. Tears blurred your vision as you read the scrolling ticker at the bottom of the screen, each word a dagger to your shattered heart.
In that moment of agonizing despair, you clung to your phone like a lifeline, scrolling through the messages from Yuki once more. Each one a plea for reassurance, a desperate attempt to reach out across the void of grief and offer solace in the face of overwhelming sorrow.
And as you stood there, enveloped in the suffocating grip of loss, all you could do was hold onto the memories of the love you shared, a fragile beacon of light in the darkness of despair.
As the news sank in, a gut-wrenching wave of disbelief and anguish washed over you, threatening to engulf you in its relentless grip. “No… no, no, no, NO!!!” you screamed out, the words torn from the depths of your soul as if pleading with the universe to undo the cruel twist of fate.
With trembling hands, you sank to the ground, the weight of the news bearing down on you like a crushing weight. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, each sob echoing the shattered pieces of your heart.
In that moment of raw, unfiltered agony, time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into a haze of pain and despair. The reality of Choso’s absence loomed over you like a dark specter, a gaping void where once there had been love and laughter.
Clutching your phone to your chest, you curled into yourself, the ache of loss consuming you from the inside out. How could this be happening? How could the man you loved, the man you had dared to hope for a future with, be taken from you so suddenly, so senselessly?
You realized with a pang of despair that you would never get the chance to finally confess to Choso how much you loved him. The words you had longed to speak, the feelings you had kept hidden deep within your heart, now seemed like a cruel joke, forever out of reach. How could you have been so foolish, so blind to the fleeting nature of time? How could you have let fear and doubt rob you of the chance to lay bare your soul to the one person who mattered most?
Tears mingled with raindrops as you lay there, consumed by a maelstrom of grief and regret. The ache of loss tore at your insides, a relentless reminder of all that had been lost in the blink of an eye.
—
Weeks had passed since the day Choso had left this world, yet the pain of his absence remained as raw and agonizing as ever. With each passing day, the ache in your heart had only grown more pronounced, a relentless reminder of all that had been lost.
Now, as you stood before his gravestone, the weight of grief bore down on you like a burden too heavy to bear. Raindrops fell softly from the sky, mingling with the tears that streamed down your cheeks, a testament to the depths of your sorrow.
Clutching the necklace in your hand, you knelt before the stone marker, the cold, unforgiving earth pressing against your knees. The words engraved upon the marble surface blurred in your vision, obscured by the haze of tears that clouded your sight.
"I'm so sorry, Choso," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry that I never got the chance to tell you how much you meant to me, how much I loved you."
The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of anguish, each syllable heavy with regret and longing. With trembling hands, you reached out to trace the letters of his name, as if by touching them, you could somehow bring him back to life.
"I miss you," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of the falling rain. "Every day, every moment, I miss you more than words can say. I wish I could turn back time, to tell you how much you meant to me, to hold you in my arms just one more time."
But the only response that greeted your words was the echo of your own sorrow, the silence of the graveyard offering no solace, no comfort in the face of your overwhelming grief.
With a heavy heart, you placed the necklace atop the gravestone, a small offering of love and remembrance in the vast expanse of loss.
Your trembling hands traced the outline of his gravestone, fingers tracing the engraved letters that spelled out his name. Each stroke was a tender caress, a silent tribute to the man you had loved so deeply.
Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to the cool marble surface, a bittersweet kiss that spoke volumes of the love that still burned within your heart. You, lost in a sea of grief and regret, felt the gentle touch of familiar hands on your shoulders, pulling you back to the present moment. Yuki and Yuuji stood beside you, their presence a source of solace in the midst of your despair.
“I just wish I could have told him. So that he at least knows…” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears. The anguish in your heart spilled over, manifesting in sobs that wracked your body with each passing moment.
“He knows,” Yuki’s voice was soft yet resolute, her words a balm to your wounded soul. “Choso knew, Y/N. He knew how much you loved him, even if the words were never spoken.”
Her words hung in the air, a gentle reminder that love transcended the boundaries of time and space, reaching beyond the realm of the living to touch the hearts of those who had passed on. And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall, washing away the traces of sorrow that clung to your skin, you felt a glimmer of peace take root within you.
With a shaky breath, you nodded in acknowledgment, the weight of your grief still heavy upon your shoulders but somehow more bearable in the presence of those who cared for you. And as you stood there, surrounded by the love and support of your friends, you knew that even in death, Choso’s spirit would continue to watch over you, a guardian angel guiding you through the darkest of nights.
And as you stood there, your tears mingling with the rain that fell from the heavens above, you made a solemn vow to carry Choso's memory with you always, to honor his life with every breath you took.
For even in death, his spirit would live on in the love that had bound you together, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space, a love that would endure for all eternity.
——————————————————————
#angst#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jjk x you#choso x female reader#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso angst#choso x you#jjk angst#jjk x y/n#jjk#jjk spoilers#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu choso#choso kamo#choso my beloved#choso x y/n#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sorcerer#sad fanfiction#gege when i catch you gege#gege why
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The Power of a Kiss
WandaF!R x Natasha
Warnings: Sad Nat | Meanish Wanda (🤏🏼)
Smut: Oral (W/N — 69-ish) | Strap (N) | BJ (Enchanted Strap — R) | Filthy 🤭 |
18+ — Minors DNI
W/C: 2,978 Words
Natasha sat on the kitchen counter, her knees pulled to her chest beneath a grey hoodie with her solemn face pressed into the silky skin. In the dimly lit space one could see the fabric was wetted from a shower she likely just took. The moonlight cast upon her face, showing a lip that was chewed apart, and tear stained cheeks.
A showcasing of a woman in deep turmoil.
——
That's how you found her as you entered the communal space at midnight. It made your body freeze in the doorway, she looked so sad, but in the same breath she was mesmerizing.
The hoodie adorning her body was Wanda's, which in turn was actually yours since your girlfriend had stolen it from you ages ago. It warmed your heart to see she'd also stolen it.
There was a sinking suspicion for why the woman wasn't asleep, it was the same reason you and Wanda hadn't gotten a wink yet, and why you were here to make her a mug of tea.
Natasha knew you were there, which is why you silently entered to set the kettle on the stove, then to her pride's chagrin you were stood before her with a concerned smile.
"Hey," you whispered, doing your best not to spook her too bad. Natasha stretched out, her legs now dangling over the side of the counter and you took the opportunity to step closer. Her tears had stopped moments before you entered, but now, as you loosely hugged her and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead she broke. "What's troubling you sweetheart?"
"I-I," Natasha groaned against your shoulder, being vulnerable was terrifying, but being rendered speechless was embarrassing. It took all of her, but she shakily spoke: "The kiss."
You froze, and she sobbed even harder, and that reaction kickstarted your next moves.
"Natasha," you softly called, voice steady even though your heart was wildly pounding in your chest. "I need you to look at me please."
The redhead reluctantly pulled away, her heart screaming at her not to in case she never got to have your comfort again. However, she was too stubborn for her own good, and instead of looking at you she leaned her head back against the cabinet and looked at the ceiling.
Tears that had stopped picked back up, and rolled down the side of her face, she could feel them settling into the divots of her clavicle. You watched with a deep sense of guilt as she pulled her lip between her teeth after taking in a shaky inhale. "Oh Natasha, please don't shut me out. Just look at me sweet girl, it's okay."
"Please, just go back to sleep Y/N..."
You shook your head, and with a gentle, but firm grip you pulled her face down by her chin. Forcing her to look into your eyes as you spoke with a steady voice, "Natasha, the kiss was for a mission." A broken sob left her instantaneously along with your words, she tried to shove you away so she could run to her room, but before she could escape you your lips were on hers.
Natasha went rigid, her mind frozen as she thought of your lover upstairs, but she gave into the urge and soon met your affection. You smiled as you pulled away, her whine eliciting joy to spark deep in your soul. "That kiss was real, and quite frankly, well overdue lovebug."
The redhead scrunched her nose defiantly, but the ghost of a smirk told you she genuinely loved the nickname. Her heart was hammering as a mix of relief and guilt burrowed deep into her chest. Overall she was confused, rightfully so, but her curiosity was peaked as she allowed you to help her down from the counter. You guided her pliant form over to the stove then handed her a steaming mug of chamomile, then you lifted the other filled with earl grey.
Natasha sipped on the drink when you nodded in confirmation that it was hers. "Thank you." You smiled warmly, and squeezed her hand in response before using that hold on her to guide her back upstairs, and straight into your room.
Wanda peered up at you from her book, you smiled timidly, guilt overwhelming you all over again as you took her in. Her beautiful features worn down from wrestling with the aftermath of the explosive argument you'd just had.
The mission had taken a clear toll on all of you.
It was never your intention to kiss the redhead, but you had a choice to make. Rush the process that you and Wanda had discussed in detail, or let the operation implode as your cover ends up blown due to a familiar face catching you and Natasha in a lie as you played wives for a night.
The decision was truly simple, albeit divisive.
So as the former Shield agent, who'd actually been a hydra operative neared you'd swiftly pulled the redhead into you. Natasha had squeaked, but fortunately you swallowed the sound of surprise, and soon enough she'd had no problem falling into the rhythm you'd set.
Your hands shielded her face, and hers gripped tightly onto the lapels of your suit jacket to pull you even closer, and when she hummed in satisfaction as your lips kept a steady pace you instantly knew that this would have a fallout.
You'd pulled back slowly, panting softly in line with her, then as if the intimate moment had never even occurred you crushed her with whispers of the truth. "Rumlow's here, we need to leave unseen, and reassess how to return."
When you had gotten out you helped her into the backseat of a black sedan, but upon the return to the compound she had left in a rush. You intended to chase after her, but Wanda had already caught wind of what took place and therein laid a bigger problem for you.
Hours of baseless accusations were thrown at you, along with harsh words and you took her angered outburst with familiar ease. Wanda was a bit of a hothead, she never was much for listening to reason until she'd yelled a lot. In the end she deflated, she understood that you were protecting the both of you. The outcome that ended with you and Natasha intact was the preferred way, but she was still disappointed.
It'd been months of waiting for the right time to ask Natasha out. Wanda had it planned out, your only job was to show up and look pretty.
Then tonight's mission stole away the magic.
The witches gaze flitted right beyond you to see Natasha's demure expression. She smiled as she too noticed her choice in attire, but it fell when she saw the tear tracks. Wanda was on her feet in an instant, you shuffled out of her way, and dropped Nat's hand in the process.
"What's the matter dorogoya?" Natasha sucked in a harsh breath, forcing her composure to stay intact as the woman gently held her face. "I-I." Natasha was once again overwhelmed by the amount of love she found within her gaze. The redhead looked to you nervously, and you simply blew her a kiss and winked. "Go ahead."
Natasha nibbled on her lower lip, she set her mug down as she worked up the courage, then took the lead and timidly leaned up to kiss her.
Wanda's hands slid from her face, one held her firmly in place by her neck while the other slid beneath the layers on her upper body. Natasha gasped at the feel of her cold fingers, giving Wanda the chance to deepen the affection.
The tension in the room now shifted from one rooted in disappointment to one of pure lust.
Wanda's hand slowly inched up, eliciting a smattering of goosebumps to rise as she kissed the woman known for her stoicism dumb. Natasha is affectedly whimpering, the sounds slightly muffled by the witches smooth tongue.
Her body grew even hotter when you pushed your front into her back, your voice lowered as you husked: "Do you want this Natasha?" It was then that she felt the strap, too lost in the heat of the prior moment with Wanda she'd failed to realize you'd stripped down to a bra, and harnessed the thick silicone to your body.
Wanda suckled on her tongue, forbidding her from screaming out a yes. She was determined though, so her ass wiggled and pressed back into you hard, giving way to her desperation. The redhead hoped after the soft words in the kitchen that this was a beginning, but she was also willing to have only this one night too.
Even if it would break her entirely.
When Wanda did pull away she used her hand to angle Natasha's head to the side so you could kiss her softly as the witch spoke next. "This is more than sex Natasha, I'm sure you know that we adore you, but if you weren't sure I need you to know now that once you agree to be with us that it entails a lifetime of love."
Natasha's lip trembled against yours, then a soft, almost broken 'please' fell from her lips that got the dance of lust well underway.
In a blur of movements the redhead was stripped down to nothing, her head thrown back as your finger rubbed against her clit and your teeth grazed over the skin over her throat. While Wanda got situated, you'd been marking the redhead up, and receiving thanks for your stimulation with every moan, and shudder.
Wanda's hum broke the two of you from your haze, you continued to massage her clit, but your gaze fell to the bed that harbored your nude lover. Her head initially out of sight as she was laying with her feet by the headboard. The message was clear, so you spun Natasha around and let her hazy eyes clue her in too.
"Climb up now sweetheart, let's see what that mouth of yours can do," you teased lowly, "I can give you an insider tip, nibble her clit."
Natasha was eager, initially paralyzed by the sight of her she stood rigid, but as soon as you urged her forward she was practically leaping. Once she straddled her you could see the way your girlfriend was enamored by her dripping cunt that now perfectly hovered over her face.
With a stretched out hand she gripped your strap, and gently guided it to her entrance. "Breathe sweetheart," Wanda reminded her, then she looked up to you with a sinful gaze. "Can you see the way she's dripping on me? She's fucking drenched, so give it to her."
As the tip passed through her entrance she was already losing her balance, falling face first into Wanda's awaiting cunt that wasn't any less aroused than her own. Natasha whimpered at the initial slap to her face, but as soon as the tang of Wanda traversed her tastebuds she was lapping away without any further instruction.
A string of throaty moans left the witches lips and you could feel the way your clit throbbed, causing you to thrust all the way into Natasha as the urge to seek out friction won out. You joined the chorus of pleasure as you groaned in satisfaction once the hilt brushed your clit.
With an effortless strength you gripped Nat by her thighs, lowering her body just enough to allow Wanda a moment to taste her. She was telepathically thanking you as her tongue began to circle over her clit as you rammed into her in a manner that left her teetering the edge.
Natasha clenched around your strap so hard that your own hips were momentarily stilled. Her arousal gushed, coating your strap and dripping down into Wanda's awaiting mouth. Though her thighs trembled beneath your fingertips that held them in a bruising grip you didn't once stop your hips incessant rutting.
Not even as you adjusted your hold, effortless as you lifted her up with your forearms now hooked underneath the top of her plush thighs. Natasha moaned against Wanda's folds as you fucked into her even deeper than before. Her mind was hazing over fast, there wasn't a single sense of hers that wasn't overrun by at least one of you. She felt every thrust of your strap, and graze of Wanda's fingers as they ran up and down her sides. Her smell and taste were nothing short of satisfied by Wanda's essence. Her eyes were shut tight, but she saw your bodies with clear attention to detail against the black of her eyelids until she was seeing stars.
Then there was what she heard, it was the quickest thing driving her crazy honestly. The sounds of absolute filth filled the room, her cunt so slick that each thrust came with a gush; a low hum that made your knees weak too left Wanda as she savored her desired treat, and then she screamed in pleasure, you watched in awe as her eyes rolled, and you smirked smugly knowing that Natasha heeded your advice. The sound alone drove Natasha over the edge again causing her to drench Wanda's entire face.
"Holy shit," you gasped, the strap slipped from within her due to her wetness. The tip tapped Wanda's forehead before it crashed into your thigh, and the redhead used her forgotten strength to break out of your grip so she could roll onto the mattress with a sharp inhale.
Wanda looked up at you through hooded eyes, the sight of your sheened skin and heaving chest enticing her to roll onto her stomach, then without warning she enhanced your entire experience by enchanting the strap just before taking the entire length into her mouth. It was selfish in nature in a way, sure she was aiding you in reaching your climax, but she also just couldn't get enough of Natasha's sweet cum.
With every bob of her head your walls pulsed, as if it was Wanda railing you from behind. If she moaned around the tip, throat squeezing the silicone, you'd feel that pressure against your g-spot, while the vibration also traveled down the silver silicone, and met your clit.
"Holy shit Wanda," you cried, hand flying to entangle in her hair, "Don't stop, fuck..."
With the way she looked up at you it was a no brainer that your released came with the next thrust. Her eyes were sparkling with tears as you'd taken over the pace and slid the silicone down her throat without mercy. As soon as she blinked them away you screamed out in bliss.
The brunette pulled back, and hastily removed the harness from your body, she leaned in and pecked your clit. She chuckled when it pulsed beneath her lips, but in a show of restraint she pulled away, and instead used her fingers to scoop up the arousal dripping down your legs.
She peered back to find Natasha raised upon her elbows, with eyes transfixed on your body. Wanda saw the lusty undertones in her gaze, but above that she also saw the longing that was far more intimate. "Come," she beckoned her forward, and Natasha scrambled to her.
Wanda slid her glistening fingers into the woman's mouth, allowing her to taste you as well, and Natasha greedily accepted the offer. Then the witch turned her gaze back to you, holding eye contact with you as she too tasted your divinity. "I'll never grow tired of you." She winked, then she rose onto her knees, her lips capturing yours while her fingers never once stopped thrusting into Natasha's mouth.
It was a palpable moment, the lust still flowing throughout the air but your bodies were still. Only slight movements as Wanda devoured your lips, and fucked Natasha's throat. Once she was satisfied she relinquished the both of you then fell back onto the mattress grinning.
Her body settled back into the spot she had been in when you both walked in, and her now cold tea settled into her hand as she brought it to her with wisps of red. You rolled your eyes playfully, then waltzed over to the mini fridge with wobbly legs to get yourself a cold water.
Natasha sat there a bit bewildered, then she crawled into the middle and looked at your girlfriend with bright, albeit tired eyes. "Do I stay, or should I go back to my own room?"
Wanda frowned as she turned to her, her hand gently cupped her jaw as she pulled her into a kiss that rivaled the others in softness. You settled onto your side of the bed, and as soon as Wanda let her lips free you slid a shirt over her head, and gave her a swift peck on the lips.
"We meant what we said Natty," you smiled, "We want you to stay, and be ours forever."
Natasha giggled, something that was unheard of, but to you and Wanda it wasn't unexpected. Deep down she was all fluff, you knew that well, you both intended to protect her fragile heart. It was a miracle she kept it, and you would cherish it for all of time if she'd let you.
"I have been dreaming of this..." Natasha softly admitted as she settled between your bodies. Your arms laid beneath her neck, and over her abdomen, while Wanda's crooked beneath her own pillow, as the other layered over yours. "Oh Natty, if only you knew we'd been too..."
None of you knew that a mission would lead you here, you wouldn't complain either, even if it was all a bit unorthodox. Sometimes things don't go to plan, but you reckon that wasn't too bad as when you woke up your guy's missing piece was finally snuggled in between you.
——
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wandanat fanfiction#wandanat fic#wandanat imagine#wandanat fluff#wandanat smut#wandanat angst#wandanat x female reader#wandanat x reader#wandanat#wandanat x y/n#wandanat x you#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wanda x nat x you#wanda x reader x natasha
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Gojo doesn't care about how "heavy" you are
gojo x chubby female reader
feeling inspired so thought i'd write a small smut (this is my first time writing anything) MDNI 18+
mostly fluff tbh but has smut at the end, mirror sex, positive affirmations, i miss u gojo pls come back
any feedback is welcome :)
Satoru doesn't care about about how heavy you are
especially not when you try on a sleek black satin nightdress that shows off your plump thighs, clings to your wide womanly hips and accentuates the small of your waist.
Easy access, he thinks to himself, his imagination starts to run rampant with images of you sprawled out beneath him on his bed, his large hands travelling under the black fabric towards your soaking wet p-
“UGHH” your frustrated grunt breaks him out of his errotic daydream, causing Satoru to look towards where you're standing in front of the mirror.
Before he decides to lift himself from the bed, he quickly adjusts his pants around his now hard cock (he thought about you for maybe 5 seconds and you’ve already managed to make his girth strain against his pants, if that doesn’t prove how unbelievably attracted to you he is, then he doesn’t know what will)
Satoru strides over to you and stands behind you, he catches sight of your cute little pout and furrowed brows in the mirror, when you make eye contact (well what you think is eye contact, considering the whole blind fold thing) he takes notice of the genuine sadness and frustration seeped in your eyes, this in turn, makes Saturo’s lips morph into a pout of his own. .
“What’s wrong, my beautiful, amazing, sexy, goddess, princess?” he asks in a baby like voice.
You break your gaze from the mirror and focus on the ground “I don’t like how this looks on me, it’s clinging to the wrong parts, my arms are too chubby, my ass isn’t round enough and, and-”
Satoru puts a hand over your mouth and gapes at you through the mirror
“WOAH, woah, baby, I’m gonna have to stop you right there. I will not hear this blasphemy any longer”. The genuine shock of hearing this come out of your perfect mouth seeps into his tone of voice.
A small muffled noise of defiance comes from you and he notices the creases in your brows have eased, then and there he decides that his life mission is to make you see yourself the way he sees you- well, maybe not the exact way he sees you, you’ll need the six eyes for that after all. He slowly moves his hand from your mouth and
“But-” in a flash his hand moves back to its place over your mouth.
He clears his throat and puts on his best teacher voice “Now, now, we’re gonna do an exercise, you’ll need your mouth for it, but I'm only gonna move my hand if you promise to do what i say, yeah?”
You roll your eyes at this but decide to play along, nodding your head which is met by a lopsided smirk from Satoru
“Hehe, i knew you liked being told what to do” He cheekily remarks as he, for the second time, removes his pale hand from your mouth, this time with nothing but a scoff at that comment escaping your lips.
Satoru hands settle on the curve of your hips, his long digits wrapping towards the front of your soft stomach, pressing his thumbs lightly into your back and he places his chin on top of your head.
“Now look at yourself in the mirror” the humour in his voice has all but faded, giving way to a deep almost raspy tone.
You fulfilled the command almost instantly and he let out a small chuckle at the revelation that this is all he needs to do to get you to listen to him.
“Now, repeat after me…”
“Now, repeat after me.” you mock him in a deep ‘manly’ voice.
‘Haha, very funny” “haha , very funny”
“Satoru Gojo is the strongest most sexy perfect man in the whole world”
“...........” he swears he can hear crickets chirping in the background
“HHEYYYYYYYY! YOU’RE SO MEAN TO ME” this earns a giggle from you.
Okay made her laugh, mission ‘make her know she’s beautiful’ is A GO!
His hands slide across your stomach and wrap around your waist now, caccooning you completely as he hunches down and rests his head on your shoulder, directly next to your face. “Alright no more funny business, missy, look at yourself and say ‘I am beautiful’”
For some reason you struggle to muster up the courage to say it and instead settle for a small mumble “i.. Am beautiful”
“Tsk tsk, louder” his voice raises a decibel, exhibiting the volume he wants you to use.
“I am beautiful” you match his volume but this does not please Gojo enough
“LOUDER!” He is almost yelling now
“I AM BEAUTIFUL” you match his volume again
“LOUDERRR!” he squeezes your waist and presses his whole body against your back
“I AM BEAUTIFULLL” You are both pretty much screaming at the mirror now, you wonder how fucking insane you both must look if an outsider were to walk in on you now. Apparently this pleases Satoru enough and he dips his head into the crook of your neck and peppers small kisses up and down, you lean your head to the side to give him better access and his kisses trail down towards your shoulder where he finally gives you a small love bite.
“There you go, Good girl” a small praise but he knows it turns you on and you squeeze your thighs together softly. “Now say, I am lovable and loved”.
With your mood now instantly improved thanks to your beloved Satoru, you find no problem mustering the words “i am lovable and loved”
He praises you again and rewards you with a quick peck on the cheek and a small squeeze around your waist.
“My body is amazing and i accept my body” he prompts
“My body is amazing and i accept my body” you answer confidently
He rewards you again with that same pet name and those same motions, hoping to somehow transfer all his love to you and show you how perfect he truly thinks - no, not thinks - knows you are. He catches sight of the blush spreading across your plump cheeks and your slightly flustered expression and admires you through the reflection, taking note of every freckle, every beauty mark, the mesmerising hue of your irises, the roundness of your flushed cheeks, to the arch of your cupid's bow. Lost in this new stupor, his eyes roam south, appreciating the swell of your breasts and the cleavage this dress reveals, further down he casts his eyes on the soft pudge of your thighs, so unbelievably squishable, lickable, biteable.
He can’t help himself any longer.
His lengthy arms uncoil from around your waist and slide down your front, his thumbs grazing the sides of the mound of flesh covering your pelvis, his agile hands find the soft skin of your thighs and slides his hands under the slip dress. He lightly grabs your inner thighs, coming dangerously close to your warm core, his fingers spread and play with your flesh, digits accidentally poking underneath the edge of your panties before returning to kneading the sensitive tissue. Paying special attention to that extra bit of squishy fat right at the top.
A soft whimper sounds from you and that’s all it takes for Satoru to murmur lowly in your ear
“Are you ready for me to show you how perfect you are”
No, Satoru doesn’t care how heavy you are
Especially not when he’s got your new dress hiked up to your waist, hands grabbing the flesh on your hips roughly as he pounds into your sopping cunt from the back, making you grab onto the mirror for support.
Especically not when his hard cock is rocking into you so roughly he can see the extra jiggle of your thighs and stomach that drives him crazy, making him somehow fuck your tight pussy faster.
Especially not when you’re thanking him for ruining your pretty little pussy through slurred speech and pathetic little whines and moans. Not when he’s forcing you to look at him destroy your walls through the mirror, with your hair bunched firmly in his fist and mascara running down that perfect face of yours.
No, Satoru doesn’t care how heavy you are when he picks your exhausted body off the floor and you wrap your legs around his hips, giving his girth access to your slick sore pussy to use again. Not when your pussy takes his full length so perfectly in this position, him holding you up as he fucks up into you relentlessly, your nails digging into his back and your cunt squeezing him so perfectly when you cum, over and over again.
No, Satoru doesn’t care how heavy you are
Especially not when he gently places your spent body in his bed, sliding in beside you, engulfs you with his limbs and breathes “i love you”.
And especially, especially not when you turn your head slightly to whisper “Satoru Gojo is the strongest most sexy perfect man in the whole world”.
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we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 4.2)
pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader
word count: 12k (oh hey look this one is actually shorter than the last)
summary: that second year of high school has a clear division within your mind—before summer and after. this is the after.
tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, continuing the existential crisis of realizing a bunch of old dudes poorly control the future of your teenage life, hidden inventory angst, mayhaps some poor coping mechanisms, maybe some codependency
beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @honeydew-cheesecake
author note: HIDDEN INVENTORY TIME! also, putting on full blast a couple of common things with autism—strong sense of justice and a love of routines! the next year will most likely be split up again because i have so many plans and most of them aren't good! we do be talking about JJK here. please like, reblog, and comment! it makes my heart flutter!
chapter links: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR [PART I], AO3
[YEAR TWO.]
[PART II]
At the bottom of the mountain path that leads up to campus, you’re seated on a bench. You were here alone as you waited on the car to pick you up, but Satoru and Suguru showed up. They detail the specifics of the incredibly important mission personally assigned to them by Lord Tengen. The more they reveal to you about this, the more anxious you become, the bigger the cloud of dread over your head grows. Your nervousness is made apparently by the way you nervously spin your cell phone between your fingers.
There’s so much about this that you hate. It’s too big. It truly is the weight of the world on their shoulders—the jujutsu world. It isn’t right that they’re being entrusted with something that could change the course of every sorcerer’s life. Shouldn’t that kind of pressure be left to a more experienced sorcerer? This is the work of adults.
Another thing that’s been bothering you…
“Erase?”
Satoru and Suguru are standing in front of you, most likely too nervous to sit still. You’re glad that they’re not blinded by their ego and seem genuinely troubled. Satoru is nervous, though he’d never admit to such a thing. He rocks on his feet from side to side. Coins jingle as he tosses them up in the air and catches them.
Suguru has his arms crossed over his chest, frowning. “Yes,” he confirms quietly. “When the Star Plasma Vessel fully assimilates with Lord Tengen, there will be nothing left of her.”
“That…” You duck your head to hide the sadness that you know is written all over your face. It doesn’t matter how you feel. You are a sorcerer, and this is no time to be soft. At the cost of one life, Lord Tengen will continue to live, sound of mind, and all the barriers that keep sorcerers safe will remain intact. “That seems cruel,” you blurt.
“So…what do you want us to do?” Satoru suddenly asks.
Your head snaps up, attention back on them, blinking in shock. “Huh?”
Instead of Satoru, it’s Suguru that repeats, “What do you want us to do? That’s why we came to you.”
Your brain stutters over their words, unable to process the things they’re saying to you. You sit there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What…what does that even mean?” You press your thumb to the center of your forehead. Stop when you realize you’re copying Suguru. “Why do you want to know my opinion? What does it matter? What I’ve got to say means nothing.”
“What a silly thing to say, Squid,” Suguru scolds. “Your opinion means everything.”
With a little more thought, a little more looking between them and studying them, you finally understand where this is all coming from and where it’s all going. There’s an air about them, more to their nervousness than just stress over the weight on their shoulders. “You want to do something really stupid,” you sigh, “and you want me to give my blessing which also makes me an accomplice.”
“Accomplice is such a dirty word.” Satoru pouts. “Is it illegal to get some advice from our best friend?”
If it was Shoko here, she’d already be walking away. Unfortunately, you care about these assholes. “What stupid thing are you planning to do?”
“Nothing yet,” Satoru answers vaguely.
You ignore him in favor of Suguru. If you need to pout, you will, and he’ll cave because you hardly ever bring it out. “Satoru is right, technically. The decision won’t be up to us. Satoru just asked a logical question—what if the Star Plasma Vessel doesn’t go through with the assimilation?”
“You know what would happen,” you point out flatly.
Satoru pipes up with, “We don’t know that for sure!” You stare at him, deadpan. He gets all huffy because you didn’t just simply accept that. “Look, the world always has a way of balancing itself out. If this person doesn’t want to assimilate with Tengen, then someone else will eventually come along that does want to. Tengen will be fine.”
“Let’s say this girl doesn’t want to go through with the assimilation, what will you do then? Are you going to protect her for the rest of her life? They’ll send every sorcerer after her. You might even have to fight Lord Tengen himself. They’ll label you as curse users—”
“Will they?” The ego is back in play because Satoru declares, “We’re the strongest.”
Suguru tries to soften the severity of this stupid plan by explaining, “We’re too valuable as sorcerers. We’d be severely punished, maybe, but I doubt it. The girl has a caretaker with her, so we can cover them while they make themselves disappear.”
You throw up your arms in frustration. “Why did you even ask me, then? You’ve clearly made up your minds!”
“Yeah, okay, you’re right,” Satoru admits while rubbing the back of his neck.
“Believe it or not, we’ve actually thought about this more than you think we have,” Suguru tells you. “Everything you said is true. We know there’s a possibility that they do actually banish us and declare us as curse users. There’s a chance that we won’t come back—”
“But we don’t want to lose you!” Satoru interrupts. He’s a little too enthusiastic about this prospect because he goes on to excitedly ask, “If we leave, will you run away with us?”
The answer is out of your mouth before you can even give it a second thought. “You know I will.”
There’s a little part of your brain that reasons you should’ve taken more time to think about this, but the bigger part of your brain knows that the answer wouldn’t change. Somehow, that was the easiest yet most difficult answer in the world. No matter which option you chose, there would be a huge shift in your life, so it boils down to what would be easier to accept. If you were to stay behind like a good sorcerer, you would have to find a way to live normally without two of the most important people in your life and that…
The thought of not having Suguru or Satoru in your life is so terrifying that it makes you physically ill.
You’ve started to spiral. It’s not until a hand comes in view and yanks on the string of your hooded sweatshirt that you’re pulled out of your darkening thoughts. When you tilt your head up, Satoru is towering above you, smiling with such a genuineness that it makes your heart hurt.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all work out,” Satoru tries to assure you.
Your voice is weak, shaky. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
It’s either to make you feel better or lighten your mood, but Satoru holds out a crooked pinky. You lock it with your own. Then, to be cheeky, he extends his other pinky to Suguru. “A pinky promise? That’s childish, even for you, Satoru.” But Suguru takes it. And maybe you’re taking this a little too seriously, but you also offer your other hand to Suguru. His expression softens before he’s taking it.
In the end, the three of you are making a promise to each other.
“See?” Satoru grins. “It’s a super promise.”
“Okay,” you accept quietly. “Be safe, then. I’ll see you in a few days.”
***
Gojo Satoru is…
…was a fucking liar.
***
Just as you’ve coaxed the cursed spirit into exorcising itself, Kusakabe’s cell phone rings. He’s been off to the side, insistent to see your cursed technique for himself. Remembering that Sensei said Kusakabe could potentially be the person to vouch for you to become Grade 1, you bowed and did as he asked.
Anyway, the call.
As you approach him, you see him rush through many emotions at once—panic, anger, relief, and resignation. When his gaze darts over to you, he looks at you with a sympathy that makes your stomach start twisting into knots. On instinct, you pull your phone out to check for any texts, but there’s been nothing since Suguru said that he was on a plane back to Tokyo with the Star Plasma Vessel.
Kusakabe calls out your name, gesturing for you to pick up the pace. When you stand across from him, you shift nervously, clutching tightly at your sketchbook. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” Kusakabe starts with a soft apology. He takes a step toward you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “There’s been an incident at the school…” You wait on the news with bated breath. It’s bad. It has to be bad, your brain reasons, because you’ve learned Kusakabe is a naturally reserved person. He doesn’t seem like the type to show sympathy so easily unless it’s really, really bad.
“Gojo Satoru is dead.”
The sketchbook lands in the puddle at your feet as you drop everything and run.
You never leave Suguru’s side.
Apparently, he was found outside the Tombs of the Star Corridor—the place Lord Tengen lives. The wounds went deep, needed to be stitched. The medical staff at the infirmary said it was a shock that he hadn’t bled out.
When Shoko returns from Kyoto and clears the medical staff out, she curses their shoddy stitch work. That irritation is turned on you because you refuse to let go of his hand and she snaps at you, but you won’t budge. She harshly tells you to make yourself useful, so you help her remove the top half of his gown. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you have to quickly look away when the red, jagged slices across his chest are revealed to you both.
“That’s going to scar,” Shoko mumbles as she glides her hands over his chest. You’re so close that you’re in her crossfire and the aches and exhaustion from keeping vigil fade away. “Where is…” Her hands, glowing white with her technique, clench. “Did they say where they put him?”
It takes you a few minutes of swallowing down grief before you answer, “They said his body is missing.”
“Yeah,” she agrees hoarsely. “Yeah, that makes sense. That idiot always bragged about the bounties on his head.”
“Or…or maybe…maybe he’s…”
Shoko knows what you’re going to say before you even say it. “I walked past where it happened,” she explains lowly. “Duck, I’m sorry, but there’s no way he came out of that alive.” She powers down her technique. You assume there wasn’t that much damage and he’s been unconscious so long because of some painkillers the medical staff gave him. “They found the Star Plasma Vessel’s caretaker. I’m going to examine her body. See if there are any clues that can lead us to whoever has his body.”
You know you’re in denial. Logically, if he was alive, he would be here, in the infirmary. But…you can’t accept it. You just can’t. “I’m going to find him,” you swear.
“What are you going to do against someone that killed Gojo Satoru?”
You remember the finger of Ryomen Sukuna. The cursed energy that touched you. “I’ll make him tear his own heart out,” you say furiously.
“You’ll give yourself an aneurysm, if you could do it at all.” Shoko puts her hand on the top of your head. “Don’t make us lose another friend today.” You cover your mouth to muffle a sob. She reels you in, so your face is squished against her chest. “There was nothing we could do. We have to accept that.” She bends over and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “This is our life now. It’s what we chose when we became sorcerers.”
But why does it have to be like this?
It doesn’t take much longer before Suguru is waking up.
You have to help him when he tries to sit up and sways too much to the side. The drugs are still lingering in his system, so you nervously watch as he blinks slowly and tries to process. You don’t want to overwhelm him, but you also want to comfort him, so you compromise by reaching out to take his hand and squeeze tight. That simple gesture holds his attention. There’s something about it…or maybe he’s remembering everything that happened before…
Suguru’s expression doesn’t change, but tears begin to trickle down his cheeks.
You practically drag him forward by the front of his hospital gown, desperate to get your arms around him. “I’m here,” you promise as your own tears begin to fall again. “Suguru, I’m here.” His arms lock around your waist. His quiet, hitching breaths are in your ear, and his shoulders are subtly shaking under your arms.
“I failed, Squid,” he chokes out.
It never should’ve been put on you, you want to say but what point is there in that anymore? It doesn’t change the fact that it happened and Suguru was the only one left behind. We can’t save everyone. Empty words. Strength has cushioned you all from the realities of sorcery. Suguru has been told that he’s the strongest practically since you two came to Tokyo. He’s not supposed to lose.
Satoru wasn’t supposed to die.
“I’m here,” you repeat because it’s the only thing that you can think to say.
Now that he’s completely healed and the painkillers have worn off, there’s no more reason to keep Suguru in the infirmary. And when no one is around, he admits that he wants to be left alone in his room. You can tell yourself that you’re terrified to leave him by himself, but, deep down, you know it’s that you’re scared he’ll disappear if you don’t stay with him. This is all somehow so surreal yet so viscerally true. Simultaneously dream-like and so real. Like a child, you want to cling to him. Have you not lost enough already?
The two of you walk out of the infirmary, hand-in-hand. At the sight of Sensei waiting, you puff up like a street cat. You sidestep and put yourself in front of Suguru, flashing your metaphorical teeth and hissing. “Get out of the way.”
Suguru and Sensei both sigh your name. You don’t back down. Just square your chin. “The campus is still covered in fly heads.”
“Go exorcise them, then. You can make more cursed corpses.”
“I’m not here to ask Suguru to handle it,” Sensei gently corrects your assumption. “I agree with you. Suguru should rest.”
You relax a little. “Oh.”
“It would be easier if you can exorcise them all at once.” Sensei frowns. “Or make them disperse, at least. They can exit the barrier. If they make it off the mountain, into the city, they won’t cause too many problems for non-sorcerers.”
You angle your body toward Suguru, glancing up at him with furrowed brows. “Will you wait for me?”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispers.
It’s not what you wanted to hear, but you can’t push him. You wordlessly nod, squeeze his hand, and then he’s walking away, headed toward the dorms. You watch him until he’s completely out of sight, immediately twitchy and nervous when you can’t see him anymore. Desperate to be beside him again, your cursed energy flares up.
“Not here,” Sensei says when he feels you gearing up. “You won’t reach them from here. They’re mostly centralized in one area.” He takes a deep breath. “You need to prepare yourself. They haven’t cleaned up yet.”
Cleaned…?
Oh.
It’s where Satoru was…
For a moment, you doubt that you can ever prepare yourself for something like this. You’re no stranger to gore, though, you remind yourself. You’re a sorcerer. You’ve seen the result of a curse’s rampage. But…those people weren’t your best friend, as cold as it is to think.
The only thing that pushes you forward is realizing that if it isn’t you, it’ll be Suguru.
There’s no way he came out of that alive, Shoko had told you.
You understand now, what she meant.
There’s a small crater that hints to the force that he was thrown down with. Hit with. You don’t know. No, it must’ve been some weapon because…the blood. The blood. There’s so much. It’s splattered everywhere across the concrete. The man that killed Satoru hated him. Loathed him. This wasn’t a clean and professional kill like with the Star Plasma Vessel and her caretaker who were taken down with neat shots to the head.
The monster that did this didn’t even hesitate when he confronted children. Because that’s what you all are, in the end. Children with too much power at your fingertips being guided by old men too scared to get their own hands dirty and all too happy to let the new generations die on their behalf.
And this is already so horrifying as is, but the assassin had to defile these corpses, too.
He wouldn’t even let Satoru have a proper burial.
I just want to find him.
You hunch in on yourself, fists curling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The shattered pieces of your heart scream that one demand—I want to find him, I want to find him, I just want to fucking find him and bring him home. You know it will never be. This world is not kind. But, nonetheless, someone answers your call. Multiple someone’s, actually.
Around you, the fly heads have frozen in place. They float listlessly, even their buzzing quieted, waiting with anticipation for a command that you didn’t recognize you were preparing to make. The command that you should make, the one for them to exorcise themselves, is on the top of your tongue. What use can the fly heads be? From what you were told, the attacker left no residuals behind. The residuals left behind by Satoru and Suguru would be too faint…
…they would be too faint for a sorcerer to track. A cursed spirit is different. Their senses are different. They’re sharper and more attuned to cursed energy because it is both their life force given by non-sorcerers and a threat when wielded by sorcerers. Weaker spirits are constantly on the hunt for more cursed energy to gain power.
You could command them to search for Satoru’s residuals, but your influence over them will wane with distance until they’ve forgotten the order completely.
Unless…
Unless you can influence a spirit that you know is bound to another.
Die, you demand of the fly heads.
Slowly, they all start to expand around you until they explode with a loud pop. You don’t stick around any longer to make sure they’re all gone. Sensei can take care of that. Just like he can handle the few fly heads that have spread around campus. You’re too busy planning now.
For the rest of the afternoon and the whole night through, Suguru doesn’t speak, and you don’t make him. He really only moves when you do because when you crawled into bed with him, he’d manhandled you until he could curl around you and place his head above the beat of your heart. You don’t ask him about it. You understand the reason that he clings to you. It’s why you can’t stop running your fingers through his hair, can’t stop touching him. You don’t want him to slip away.
Around three in the morning, Shoko texts you. She’s done with her autopsy. Eavesdropping, too. There are no clues. She’s overheard Sensei on his cell phone with higher-ups and they have no idea where to start because so many people have put bounties on his head over the years. They’re also scrambling to figure out how to break the news to Lord Tengen that there will be no merger. You tell her that she’s done enough and to try and get some sleep.
After you snap your phone shut and drop it on the bed, Suguru immediately picks it up. Your fingers itch to stop him from reading the texts, but that’s not your place. From your position above him, you watch his eyes carefully scan over the text, face unmoving.
The room is bathed in darkness once again when he snaps it shut. You think that’s the end of that, but he whispers, “I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t, either,” you confess as quietly. Even seeing all that blood…this is being in denial. Is that what’s going on? You’ve never had a loss like this ever before. You don’t know what to do with yourself. No. That’s a lie. You know what you want to do. “It’s not fair. That they took him, I mean.”
“I’m going to look for him,” Suguru announces. “I…just wanted this one last night with you.”
You tug at his hair meanly. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” Suguru replies with an air of finality.
“Bullshit,” you snap. You’re not letting this go. “No, you’re not leaving me here like some—”
Suguru suddenly rolls over on top of you, knocking the breath out of you. He lifts up on his hands and knees, shifting up so that his face is hovering directly over yours. With only the glow of the moon, it’s hard to make out the fine details of his face, but you can see the frown, the hard set of his jaw. He snatches your wrists, keeping them pinned up by your head, immobilizing you completely and giving you no option but to look at him.
“He has no cursed energy in exchange for a Heavenly Pact. Do you understand what that means?” Suguru asks harshly. “What are you going to do against that? You’re—” weak. You squeeze your eyes shut, hurt lancing through you. He tries to soften the reality with, “You’re not suited against that type of fighting style. You’re better for support.”
“Let me support you, then!” You dig your nails into whatever skin of his you can touch. “I know I’m weak, but…” Your bottom lip wobbles. Definitely not helping your case. “You couldn’t beat him, either. You…you said that you were split up, so…maybe two is better than one…”
“I’m not losing you. I can’t lose you, Squid. Can’t you understand that?”
“But you want to make me grieve you, too?” You scramble for anything that can make him change his mind. “I doubt we’re going to run into danger, anyway. It’s been so long already that…that he’s probably collected the bounty on both heads.” You lean up to knock your forehead against his. “Please, Suguru.”
“No.”
“You promised! You promised that it’d be me and you!”
As your vision blurs, you can make out Suguru’s expression softening. “Don’t cry, Squid,” he begs. One of his big hands let go of your wrist, cupping your cheek. “Why do you have to make this so much harder on me, huh?” He flops down next to you, carefully guiding you to bury your face in the crook of his neck where you continue to cry. “Okay. Okay, I’ll bring you. At the first sign of danger, you have to run.”
You won’t, but you nod and lie, “Okay.”
Little do you know, you’re not the only one who’s lying.
With the sunlight comes the truth of the matter. You wake up alone, the bed empty, and with a note on the nightstand beside both your cell phone and Suguru’s. I’m sorry, the note reads in his neat handwriting. I’ll be safe, but I’m not risking you. At the very end of the note, there’s a line of text, but you can’t tell what he wrote because it’s so scratched out. The page is nearly ripped on that little section.
You, who planned to lie yourself, have no room to feel so betrayed. Anger, though, you think you’re allowed. Grief crashes over you all over again, too. You chose this life, you know, but shouldn’t children be protected a little longer? It never should’ve come to this. Ten minutes is all you can allow yourself because you don’t know how long Suguru has been gone and you need to find him.
Before you rush out the door, you shoot Shoko a text for when she wakes up, letting her know your plan. You also tell her that if he comes back before you then she needs to punch him in the nose on your behalf.
Late in the afternoon, as the sun is setting, there’s a breakthrough.
By this point, you’re jittery and exhausted. You’ve swallowed down so much coffee to keep yourself going that it’s probably in your veins now, but you’re at the point of exhaustion that it’s just not doing anything anymore. Not only have you been walking around the city on foot, but you’ve been keeping your technique running as you have cursed spirits try to lead you to Satoru’s residuals. With as much cursed energy as he had, it should still be radiating off his body enough for a spirit to pick up. That’s what you’d thought, anyway.
Until every spirit that you pull under your influence just…stops. It’s like there’s some invisible barrier that they simply won’t cross. You step past that point, and they’re compelled to follow you, yes, but they struggle against you. Some of the stronger ones outright free themselves and go running.
Something or someone is scaring them.
The problem is that you don’t know how wide the perimeter is of this barrier, how close or far away that Satoru is. But when a pack of vaguely centipede-shaped curses rush past you, out of the invisible area, you know your solution. Just like in movies where animals are the first to know of a disaster and try to outrun it, curses are acting the same. You will run toward where they are running away. At some point, you’ll have to find epicenter.
As you’re still running, further ahead of you, in the distance, there is an explosion—a bright flash of red light, a boom so loud that it vibrates in your chest, and a shake of the earth that makes you stumble. The non-sorcerers around you do the same, some of them even tripping, but they’re not turning in the direction of the flash. No, between all the chatter, you make out people questioning if it was an earthquake or a terrorist attack.
Non-sorcerers can’t see cursed techniques.
And then there was that red light…
Red.
There is something rising up inside you, something dangerous. Hope. All the blood that stained the concrete, the horror that Suguru described that you know extended to Satoru even if Suguru didn’t witness it himself…that all flies out of your head. This is the only thing that makes sense, you reason. There’s only one logical conclusion for why cursed spirits would be running away, refusing to pass that point. A dead boy’s residuals wouldn’t scare them like that.
He’s alive, you think. What else could it be? Nothing, your desperate heart reasons. Then, it’s on repeat. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive—
Not even five minutes pass before, in the middle of your sprinting, there’s yet another explosion. With this one comes a bright purple light and an even bigger explosion. It sends you stumbling, tripping over your feet, and you manage to catch yourself on your hands and knees, but they don’t come out unscathed. They’re busted open, but you ignore that pain. Adrenaline has you up and back to running.
Looming tall, getting closer and closer, is a temple. Gold and white marble. An eyesore that makes your retinas burn. Is this…the headquarters of the Star Religious Group that Suguru had told you about? One of the two organizations that was targeting them on their mission? It must be. Kusakabe said that the other group, Q, was defunct. Satoru and Suguru even sent pictures posing with the leaders that they beat.
The path that leads to the entrance is lined with tall pillars on either side. The further down the path you run, the evidence of a fight becomes more and more abundant. Some of the pillars are totally crushed, others chopped in half, rubble everywhere, and practically stinking of Satoru’s cursed energy.
Why…why does it feel so different? Are you…you’re not imagining that, are you? For someone that should be on the verge of death, it’s so strong. Stronger than it’s ever been before. The weight of it is almost oppressive. Familiar, but…sharper. You’ve unthinkingly slowed to a stop. Too stuck in thought to move, maybe, or…too scared. It’s as if the connection with the cursed spirits is lingering and their terror is bleeding over to you. Weak and feeble prey against a predator so unimaginable.
This can’t be your Satoru, can it?
“Sketch.”
And the last year and a half of memories comes crashing down on your head when you hear the sound of his voice, suffocating the noise of your panicked hindbrain. When you raise your head, unaware that you’d ducked it down to stare at nothing, he is standing there. A few meters away from you. His blazer is torn open, white button-up underneath it stained with blood, the same as a section of hair covering his forehead. It’s a horrifying miracle…but a miracle, nonetheless.
“Sa—” your mouth snaps shut because your throat clogged with emotion. You don’t know what the fuck you’d say, so you just don’t bother with it. You shut the hell up and run. Tears are blurring your vision, you’re more out of breath than you were getting here because the sobs are bubbling up in your chest, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not until you know that he is solid and real and alive.
It’s when you throw yourself right at him, arms locking around his neck, that the dam of emotion inside breaks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing. “Satoru!” You’re being rough with him. Clinging too tight. One of your hands is grasping tightly the hair at the nape of his neck and the other fisting the fabric of his blazer. “Satoru!”
Satoru mumbles your name, shoulders slumping under your grasp. “Oh.” His voice cracks a little. Then, he’s giving you a hug of his own, hands splayed across your back. “Oh,” he repeats, almost dazedly. “It all still feels so, so amazing, Sketch.” You try to lean back, but he smushes his cheek against yours, sighing in something you’d think is pleasure. “I want to keep feeling this way forever…with you, Sketch.”
“Satoru—”
The breath catches in your throat when you can lean back enough to catch his gaze with your own. How did you not see these eyes before? Something has changed. Infinity isn’t active, but they’re still glowing bright. Sparkling like the sun glinting off the clearest ocean waters. These eyes are beautiful, entrancing, and…almost inhuman. His world has shifted. He has stepped up on another level. He—
Satoru is kissing you.
You’d been so stunned that you didn’t pay attention to his face inching closer to yours until you feel the warmth of his breath against your mouth. It’s a soft touch of his lips against yours. You could…you should…stop this. You need to…to…check on him. But…oh. Oh, he cups your cheek, hand so big and so, so warm. His hand is at the small of your back now, a gesture that sends pleasure up your spine.
It’s a clumsy kiss, maybe. You’re not sure what to do with your mouth and your noses bump against each other. Then, he tilts his head to the side a bit and it falls into place like two puzzle pieces coming together. Your eyes flutter shut and instead of pushing him away, you’re tugging him closer by the lapels of his blazer.
Heat explodes across your body when he takes it a step further, tongue gliding across the seam of your lips. You’re not sure if he’s aware of it or not, but it’s a dirty move when he cups your cheeks with both his hands. He tries to pull you closer, like he can’t get enough of this. Of you. And that’s…that fucks with a person’s brain. You’ve been swept up in his whirlwind, so you go with it. Your mouth opens and he’s licking into your mouth. You always thought it’d feel gross, but it’s just…hot. The smacking of your lips, the small noise of pleasure he gives…
Satoru pulls himself away from you, the both of you panting harshly. “I…” He licks his lips. “I am super high right now.”
“High,” you repeat hoarsely without much thought to it. You’re dazed and he’s pinning you down with those eyes again. It takes you a good minute to comprehend what he said. When it hits, your body jerks. “High?”
Instead of doing something like elaborating, his brows furrow, and he turns to look over his shoulder at the temple. “Hey, I need to get Amanai’s body. You might wanna leave.” He faces you again, looking like he’s trying to gather his all thoughts. “I blew a hole in that Zen’in guy with Purple. And…I kind of want to slaughter all those people in there. I can see them in this big meeting room, clapping because she’s dead now. I don’t want you seeing that.”
Don’t do that, you should say.
But how can you find mercy in your heart for people who celebrate the death of a child? Who paid a man to swoop in and shatter your life? Those aren’t good people. They’re not innocent. Shouldn’t they be punished in some way?
“Be safe,” you say instead.
Satoru doesn’t kill them.
Not soon after Satoru left you had called Sensei to tell him that Satoru was alive and found the Star Plasma Vessel’s body. And almost as soon as you hang up the phone after Sensei assures you that Shoko and the cleanup crew will be there shortly, Suguru shows up.
When they walk out of the temple, Suguru comes back to meet you while Satoru goes on ahead to hand over the body to those that will make sure she’s treated with respect. Suguru doesn’t look at you when he tells you that he talked Satoru down from killing them all.
“There would be no meaning it in.”
It’s clear that Suguru is troubled, trying to justify that to himself. While you don’t really believe him…well, no. It’s more that you simply don’t care if there’s meaning.
“You’re right,” you lie as a comfort and reach out to thread your fingers through his.
***
For four days after they come home, you never see them.
Suguru is still texting you—somewhat, anyway, since he’s more focused on taking care of Satoru who hadn’t been able to sleep for three days straight. Still high on…something. You and Suguru were trying to speculate what put him in such a state since there was no point in asking a practically incoherent Satoru. He died, Suguru told you in the middle of night two. I think, he then followed up with. The Six Eyes are fully realized. All the pieces fell in place.
He’s high on the power, you think you summarize correctly.
Suguru thinks that Satoru is finally leveling out when he sleeps for twenty-four hours straight.
You’re the first person to know that he’s awake when you’re walking across campus, planning on a late night konbini run because you can’t sleep, and almost get smacked in the head by a floating wallet. You duck it, but a rock gets tangled in your hair. There’s a bunch of rocks and some empty soda bottles, looking like one of those asteroid fields that you see in space movies.
“Oops,” a familiar voice calls out. “My bad, Sketch.”
“Satoru?” You fully expect him to be there behind you, but when you turn around, there’s nothing. You look off to either side of you, too. Nothing. “Where—” wait. Did it sound like he was speaking above you? You tilt your head up and, yeah, you definitely forgot that Satoru could float even before…everything.
Satoru is cross-legged, floating there in the air. All the debris surrounds him now as if they were planets in his orbit. Your brows furrow. “Why does it feel like you’re showing off?”
“I’m not!” Satoru protests with a pout.
“It just…feels different,” you mumble while trying to figure out what exactly is giving you that idea. This isn’t totally out of the ordinary for him. He was blocking massive chunks of destroyed buildings and tearing apart houses before. “Oh. Your output is so low now.”
“Bingo!”
There was a little delay, but your brain finally catches up. “You’re awake! What are you doing out here? You should’ve gone to see Shoko as soon as you were up!”
Satoru waves the concern off. “I’m running Reverse Curse Technique now. I’m good.”
“You…what?” Logically, that makes the most sense. Despite all the blood, you hadn’t seen a mark on Satoru that day at the temple.
“Yeah! Who knew that getting stabbed in the neck is what it’d take for me to figure out Reverse Curse Technique, huh? Never let Shoko become a teacher. She can’t explain things for shit.”
Avoiding overwhelming emotions isn’t a new concept for you. You’re notorious for it. That doesn’t mean you can’t feel the emotions for Satoru, though. Stabbed in the neck—you didn’t think it was possible for your heart to crack more than it already has.
“Come down here so I can hug you,” you choke out.
Satoru blinks, looking almost baffled by your turn of emotion. Does he really not know how fucked up that is? Can he not understand why you’d be upset? How terrified he must’ve been, you think as you reach out for him when he slowly lowers back to the ground. Sure, he beat Death, but that doesn’t make the sight any less horrifying.
“You gotta stop being such a crybaby or I’m gonna have to give you a new nickname,” he muses when you get your arms around him. His arms slip around your shoulders, crushing you against his chest. “I’m okay, Sketch. Alive and kicking. Got some badass scars and, as the geezers in my clan would say, my Six Eyes are fully realized.”
Be serious about this, you want to demand of him, but who are you to do that? “Don’t make fun of me for worrying about you.”
“Suguru is already doing enough of it, y’know,” Satoru remarks softly. “Go worry about him.”
“I can worry about you both, thanks.”
“You’re cute, Sketch.”
The memory of his mouth against yours makes itself painfully known. Back of your neck prickling with heat, you try to bury your face further against his chest, not wanting him to see whatever might be on your face. In the silence between you two, your mind runs through so many questions. Does he remember? Why in the world did he do that? If it’d been Suguru there instead, would Satoru have kissed him instead? Should you even ask about it? What would you say if you did? Do you even know enough about how you feel for him to have that talk?
Satoru demands to escort you to the konbini when you tell him what has you out so late. He’s almost aggressive when he takes your hand in his and starts tugging you forward again, listing off all the snacks that he wants to buy. At the bottom of the mountain, finally out on the street, you notice that he still hasn’t let go of your hand, so you stop him. You’re fully prepared to talk about it. Okay, you’re not, but you feel like you need to talk about it.
But then, under the glow of a streetlamp, you catch the glint of that scar at the base of his throat.
You’ll bring up the kiss some other time.
***
“What?”
For once, Sensei doesn’t look you in the eye. “You heard me.”
“Did I? Because it sounds like you told me that some old man is here to force Satoru and Suguru out on solo missions—”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out your name. “It’s just to ease them back out in the field—”
“Stop lying!” Sensei’s mouth snaps shut at the sound of your echoing shout. “I’m not dumb! These are assignments that only they can do as Special Grades. The higher-ups wouldn’t bother with wasting them on something the rest of us grunts can do, would they?”
“Please. Calm down—”
“It hasn’t even been three weeks!”
Sensei calls in backup. Looking over your shoulder, expression pinched in discomfort, he begs by way of order, “Nanami, Haibara, let’s end class early. Can you take her back to the girls’ dorm—”
There have been only a few times that you’ve ever been so furious in your life and, not-so-shockingly, they all had to do with Suguru. When you were both eight, inseparable, Suguru had finally confessed where his bruises truly came from. You learned that the lack of food wasn’t from poverty or neglect, but maliciousness. The bruises weren’t from scraps with spirits that he was trying to tame.
You’d been downright distraught. You hadn’t let him leave your house for as long as you could. Begging your parents to let him live with you, offering your plate up if there wasn’t enough food in the house for four people. When Suguru wasn’t in the room, you told them what he said, insistent on your parents calling the police for help because you knew they were supposed to help with bad people and what else were Suguru’s parents?
The first few times, your parents lied and said that they’d handle it. After a year of nothing happening, you’d gone to a teacher instead because your parents outright told you that how Suguru’s parents disciplined him wasn’t their business. Suguru was out for about a week, and you hadn’t been allowed over. When he came back to school, arm in a cast, he told you about a person visiting, and how furious it’d made his parents when that lady left.
Finally, you learned a cruel lesson—that trying to help would only punish Suguru.
Maybe that’s something you should remember right now, but…you’re blinded by that same sense of justice that you’d had as an eight-year-old girl. You have a voice here. You’ll scream until your throat bleeds. If they want sacrifices, you’ll offer yourself up in place of Suguru and Satoru. Just to let them have peace a little while longer.
“Senpai?” Haibara hesitantly touches your shoulder.
Nanami and Haibara, smartly, move out of your way when you whirl around and storm out of the classroom. You’re not sure how much time you have left, but you need to ditch your escorts, so you go back to the dorms like Sensei requested, fuming the entire time. You don’t speak a word to your juniors, scared that you’ll snap at them unnecessarily. They’re just following orders, same as every other fucking sorcerer.
As soon as you’re inside your room, you’re immediately sneaking out the window, and pinpointing Satoru and Suguru’s cursed energies. They’re at the entrance’s torii gate, getting lectured by some withered husk. Satoru, as always, looks disinterested, but Suguru…
Suguru looks tired.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
The old man slowly turns around to face you, eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you’re talking to like that?” For someone that’s hunched over and clutches to his cane with a trembling hand, he sure does have his nose stuck up pretty high in the air. “Ah, I know you.” He says your name. “Mind your tongue, girl. You’ll ruin your chances at success with this type of behavior.”
“They almost died and you’re throwing them back out in the field this soon?”
He scoffs. “Is that what this is about? I’ve spoken with Yaga. They’ve been healed.”
“Are you stupid?” If he can’t scrounge up an emotion in his black heart, you’ll appeal to logic. “Do you not understand that if you don’t give them proper rest and run them ragged then they’re more likely to make mistakes and die? Let someone else handle whatever you want them to do.”
“Who? Like you? Stop acting like a child. You may be a sorcerer, but don’t think you could be of any use other than collecting information. You’re weak.” You hate this man, but you hate that he’s right even more. Is running your mouth really the only thing that you can do? “Know your place.”
Behind the old man, Suguru and Satoru puff up.
Something ugly is festering inside you as you watch him walk away. You’re not sure that you’ve ever felt so much hatred toward another person. How can such weak people have all this power? What more can you compare them to other than an invasive parasite—hiding themselves away as their host supports them and weakens itself until there’s nothing left and then they’re on to the next pray. That’s how they rose so high. Everyone else threw themselves on the sword until only these cowards remained. It isn’t fair that you’re forced to bow down to them.
You should worship us, you think viciously. Rage is making your body go haywire. You’re trembling all over, fists clenched so tightly that your nails are digging into your skin causing sticky, wet blood to slip through your fingers. Prostrate yourself before us, you wish you could scream at him. How much blood have they spilt with their callous and cruel demands? You can’t even begin to imagine, but you smell it. You taste it. You can’t even register that something is slipping from your nose, over the bow of your lips. Your eyes are losing focus, your ears are ringing, and you’re shocked that you can focus enough to think anymore with how agonizing this headache is.
Prostrate yourself.
A lot happens all at once. Just as someone snatches your upper arm, the higher-up goes down with a crack. An actual crack of a bone. He twists himself awkwardly as he’s going down, ending up spread eagle on the ground right in front of your feet. He turns his head to the side, forehead coated with blood from getting busted open on the concrete. He clutches at his hip, trying to move, but failing every single time.
Then, you’re gone.
Feeling like your stomach drops out under you, along with your feet, you’re warped to a completely different part of campus by Satoru’s hold on your arm. All at once, the world comes rushing back in, and you’re suddenly aware of your body. You collapse to your hands and knees, watching as drops of blood plop on the blades of grass beneath your face. Even this much, holding yourself up by your shaking arms, is hard.
Just being conscious is hard, apparently, because you wobble before you’re crashing on the ground and passing out.
“You were right to bring me to her first. Fuck. She had a brain bleed. What the fuck happened?”
Shoko’s raised voice might be what pulls you back to consciousness. Or the fact that you’re clearly healed now. The only remnant that there had been something wrong is the flaking blood on your face, sensitivity to light, and the lingering exhaustion because she can’t fully replenish cursed energy.
The lack of noise has you turning your head to the side. Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru—all in a circle—have turned to stare down at you. There are varying degrees of concern on their faces, but Shoko is the only one that’s also furious. She points an accusatory finger at you. “You’re going to tell me what you did later, Duck. Do you understand me? Right now, I have to go heal some old geezer’s broken hip.”
Ah. You’d been right, then. A bone had broken.
You broke that bone.
Because you…
In the heat of that moment, you weren’t comprehending what was going on. What you were doing. But you know now. And the implications of it terrify you. What’s even worse is that you weren’t even consciously thinking about doing it. It just happened, so what if it happens again by accident? What if one of those things thought in the heat of the moment that you’d never say out loud comes true?
You didn’t want this. Not this. You never asked for it. This is too much power for one person. How do you shoulder the weight of something like this? You can’t. You don’t have it in you. You’ll hurt someone, you know it, and it’ll be someone that you love, and when it happens—
“Squid.”
Suguru’s hands appear in your blurry line of vision. They’re meant to be a silent question, to ask if you’re okay to be touched right now. You answer by grabbing his wrists and yanking them down to your cheeks. You don’t know what possesses you to do it. Maybe it’s to pull him in closer because seeing his softening expression makes you feel less overwhelmed. They understand better than anyone, after all, that power is a burden.
It’s not a full breakdown. More a moment of overwhelming pressure and guilt. Suguru and Satoru, both now sitting down next to you in the grass, don’t say anything until you calm down. When you’re just sniffling, Suguru’s thumb that’s been stroking your cheek stills. “What happened, Squid?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Satoru speaks up. “Your persuasion isn’t only limited to cursed spirits anymore. It’s anything with cursed energy, isn’t it?” You nod, mouth twisted with misery. “We really need to come up with a name for your technique.”
“Not the time, Satoru,” Suguru sighs. He brushes away some hair that’s plastered across your forehead. “You don’t seem as surprised by this as I think you should be.”
“Shoko put the idea in my head at the start of the term,” you mumble. “I told her about that mission with you—the one where I caught your cursed spirit and that other sorcerer’s shikigami. I could maybe understand why yours was affected because the spirits have different cursed energy than yours, but…the shikigami is a manifestation of a sorcerer’s energy. Shoko took it to its next logical step. I didn’t want to believe her.”
“It was so weird.” Satoru is tapping his bottom lip, thoughtful. “It was like your cursed energy was infecting that geezer. It was only a second, but I guess whenever you gave your command, I swear that it was like there were two of you. It was seriously trippy.”
“And then you gave yourself a brain bleed. Do you know how lucky you were that Shoko was on campus?” Suguru presses his palm against your forehead, and you look back up at him. The corners of his eyes are tight with worry. “Promise me you won’t do that again.”
“I didn’t mean to do it,” you purposely deflect. Does this power scare you? Yes. Would you use it again if it meant keeping the people you love safe in both body and mind? Another yes. “I’m just…worried about you both.”
“Squid, you can’t keep us here forever. I know you’re worried, but—” he fumbles. Briefly, his gaze darkens, but that emotion quickly passes. “We’re the strongest. We can take care of ourselves.”
“It’s not about whether you can do it or not,” you whisper. “It’s about rest. You almost died. You…you lost. And…that leaves wounds that Shoko can’t heal. Why can’t you have more time? Why does it have to be you?”
“The world has to keep spinning, Sketch.”
Yes, the world is cruel like that, isn’t it?
***
The start of middle school had felt like a month-long blowout in your household.
About two weeks in, while you were curled up under the blankets with a hot water bag pressed against your pelvis, grandparents that you rarely saw had come to visit from the village over. It’d felt like such an invasion of privacy when your both your mother and grandmother presented a bowl of red rice and congratulations on becoming a woman that you’d snapped. Why celebrate such a stupid thing? You’d ranted and raved. It’s what the body does. Why make a big deal? Do you do this with boys when they get their first erection? And all hell had broken loose.
Your father had outright smacked you in the mouth for speaking so crudely and disrespectfully to his mother. After an hour or so of being banished to your room, your frazzled mother and shrewd grandmother had come to interrogate you on how you knew about such a thing—the thing being erections. You’d told them because you saw nothing wrong with the truth. You hadn’t known it then, but Suguru had started puberty a few months before you. He’d told you about the exhausting and awkward conversation his father had been forced to give him.
By the end of the weekend, you’d been ready to choke your grandmother. The way she hovered over your mother, stirring up shit by whispering in your mother’s ear. The worst offense, in your opinion, had been how they turned Suguru away at the door every single day. You couldn’t sneak out because your grandmother slept in your room at night while days were spent going over what boiled down to glorified etiquette classes. Ladies don’t talk about crude things which included basic bodily functions, ladies don’t sleep with men unless they’re married, ladies are demure yet try to make friends with their peers, ladies this, ladies that, and on and on it went.
And you’d overheard conversations at school, knew that most of your classmates hated it as much as you did when their grandparents visited, so you’d hoped the hell would end when they were gone. It hadn’t. That Monday night, your mother had declared that there would no longer be any sleepovers, and you think that may have been the first ever time you screamed yourself hoarse.
You’ve always been too close to that boy! Your father had been the one to step in, absolutely laying into you. I tolerated it because you needed to have one friend, at least, so we could pretend our daughter is normal, but this is just becoming borderline inappropriate now! You’re lucky that I don’t ban you from seeing him, period! And think of him! Don’t you think that he’s sick of spending so much time with you? He’ll never have any other friends if he’s seen spending so much time with you! Let the boy be a boy, damn it!
That’s when the doubt started, you think.
This fear has always plagued you—the idea that you need Suguru more than he needs you.
Zen’in Toji changes that.
Sometimes, when you’re too stuck in your head, you worry that you’re still acting like a child, tugging at his sleeves, annoyingly demanding his attention. Now, it almost feels like the roles have reversed. Not that you’re annoyed. No, if he tried to hide himself away, you’re pretty sure that you’d be waiting outside his door like a lost puppy begging to come home.
Really, the only difference between now and those childhood days where you two were practically joined at the hip is that Satoru is included.
Now that Satoru and Suguru are on their own, you’ve been unofficially added to Nanami and Haibara’s team. What happened to headquarters wanting you to spy on Suguru, huh? This might be a punishment. You don’t mind it, obviously, because you like to be a good mentor, but it’s not just them that you’re helping. Helping is a loose term, though. You’re almost as busy as Suguru and Satoru are, running to pacify and record spirits for the seasoned sorcerers.
A thing that you’ve started to learn is that sorcerers are…eccentric. More often than not, they don’t try to make small talk with you which you’re happy for, but it’s still exhausting to be around all these strangers. It seems like you’re always running on empty. It feels like your art is suffering, too, because you can’t find it in yourself to practice in your spare time. You feel as if you always have to be available.
Things might be easier if you had some time alone, but you never are anymore, even when you’re on campus. Would Satoru and Suguru respect your wishes if you asked? Yes. But you never do. You always feel too guilty to ask for such a thing when they’re working so hard all the time. Thankfully, Suguru is fine to sit in silence with you and Satoru can talk and talk without you ever saying a word back.
Things are changing between the three of you—even a person like you who always has things going over her head can see that.
You’re not quite sure when it started but there is always someone in your bed. None of you talk about it, though. If they hadn’t started leaving pieces of themselves behind in your room, you’d wonder if they even knew that the other is with you when they aren’t around. In your need to have things in the correct places, you’ve assigned them spots—Suguru’s cigarettes are tucked in the corner of your nightstand, Satoru’s stash of blueberry sodas is neatly stacked inside your minifridge, Suguru’s spicy ramen is in the cabinet closest to the door and Satoru’s melon bread are next to the ramen.
People talk about walking in the shadows of The Strongest, but…for you, it feels like their shadows are swallowing you whole.
Where do they end and where do you begin?
It’s getting weird inside your head. Not that it hasn’t always been. It’s just…you sometimes feel suffocated. On bad days, you wonder if you’ve started to create a mask for them—something you’ve never felt the need to do, especially with Suguru. And yet, in spite of it all, you’re terrified to push them away, and not because of what happened to them.
Bitterly, you think about that river in your village, and how if you were thrown in it with no way out but forward that you’d let yourself drown in that familiarity rather than face the unknown that awaits on the other side of the river.
You’d scolded Suguru for picking up smoking, but maybe he and Shoko are on to something with it.
The stars have aligned just right so that you, Satoru, and Suguru are all on campus at the exact same time. It’s a bitterly cold December morning and you’re gathered in the smoking area. Sitting next to Suguru on a bench, you eye the cigarette, tempted to try, but decide better of it. You’ll settle for the smoke that curls in the air and clings to his clothes. You tilt to the side, putting your head on his shoulder, and Suguru settles his cheek on the top of your head. Satoru, across from you and munching on pocky, has been watching you two with an eerie intensity.
“You two should come home to Kyoto with me.”
“Meeting the parents already?” The question was intoned by you and Suguru, at the exact same time. You lean away, glancing up at Suguru with the same surprise mirrored on his face, and then the two of you break out in a loud fit of laughter that’s becoming depressingly rare these days.
Satoru stands there, red-faced and fuming. “Sorry for wanting to spend my birthday weekend with you, you assholes!”
After collecting yourself and catching your breath, you ask, “Are we even allowed?”
“Doesn’t matter if you are or not,” he replies with a shrug of the shoulder. “I’m head of the clan, baby. I can do whatever I want, and no one can say a damn thing about it.”
From next to you, Suguru snorts. “Why don’t you just stay here since you obviously don’t want to go, Lord Gojo.”
“Future head of the clan,” Satoru reluctantly grumbles. ���I could stay here,” he goes on to defensively. “I’m just being a nice person! The last time I saw my parents was last year when I moved on campus. I’m doing them a favor before I’m eighteen and never looking back.”
“Oh? Are you giving up your position when you graduate? Otherwise, you’ll probably be seeing them to do fancy, important clan stuff,” you tease.
“Screw both of you!” If life were an anime, there would be steam blowing out of his ears right now. “I was even going to let you guys go all out when we get fitted, but now I’m choosing for you, and I’ll put you in the ugliest colors!”
You cock your head to the side. “Fitted?”
“They want traditional clothes for the birthday celebration.”
“How traditional?”
“Ofurisode for you and montsuki for us,” he answers casually.
Oh, no. No, no, no. There have been only a few times where your parents rented a kimono for you, and you hated every single second of it. Granted, you were young, but you remember how much you hated it. “No.” You shake your head. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”
Satoru’s brows furrow. “Eh? Why?”
“What do you mean why? I can’t believe you’re okay with it! You don’t like clothes clinging to you, right?”
“Actually, it’s more like I hate when my clothes get wet. Besides, if something feels like it’s rubbing against me wrong, I can shift Infinity to sit between my skin and the fabric. Anyway, my montsuki are always silk, and I like how that feels.”
Your eye twitches. “Yeah, well, not everyone has Infinity. Do you even know how many pieces there are in an ofurisode? It’s so heavy and tight and—” you visibly shudder.
“Good point.” Satoru hums and taps his chin in thought. “Best I can do is a chu-furisode, though. I don’t doubt that they’d kick you out on your ass if you showed up in anything less formal or if we tried putting you in something for the married women.”
“You’re forgetting something,” you point out wryly. “I can just not go.”
“Sketch,” Satoru whines. “It’s my birthday.”
“We can celebrate here before or after you leave.”
“Also,” Suguru finally speaks up, “that’s too much money.”
“Oh, don’t worry, my little country bumpkins. It’s all on the Gojo dime and it won’t even be a drop in the bucket.”
Deadpan and once again at the same time, you and Suguru say, “Rich boy.”
Satoru claps his hands together in front of himself, ducking his head. “Please, please, please,” he loudly begs. “Don’t leave me on my own with my shitty clan! It’ll be like a sleepover! You guys did those when you were kids, right? My one wish is that I get a turn having a sleepover with Sketch and Suguru!”
We have sleepovers every time you’re on campus, you aggressively think. But, after a moment of reflection, you realize that, actually, not all three of you have slept in the same room. On the few times that they’ve been on campus at the same time, neither of them tries to sneak into your room at night or text you to ask. You think you know what they do, though. Just as they’ve started to leave pieces of themselves in your room, you see them in each other’s. And, sure, you could put that as them hanging out, but you’ll sometimes catch whiffs of cigarette smoke on Satoru’s sheets and pillows.
You still want to tell him no. It’s a daunting thought, being in an uncomfortable kimono, surrounded by people that don’t even respect their own future clan head let alone people like you and Suguru who have no sorcery in your bloodlines. But what else is there to get the boy who has everything? And…it’s a rare chance to have them to yourself because the higher-ups are giving him leave and, if Satoru insists, his family will request the same for you and Suguru.
“Fine,” you agree with a frustrated sigh.
Suguru also gives a sigh of his own. “I’m smoking, whether I’m allowed to or not.”
“Best birthday ever!” Satoru cheers.
***
For obvious reasons, Satoru puts off going on his clan’s estate as long as possible. There are people at the estate that could measure you and Suguru, but Satoru pulls you both into a shop that’s probably so expensive that it costs to breathe. You’re glad the prices aren’t displayed. Thankfully, you don’t really have to put up with strange hands all over you yet. They simply take a tape measurer to you and then let you pick out the fabric. Like Satoru, you decide on a beautiful silk that starts out forest green before fading to a navy blue near the bottom.
Kyoto is mostly religious sits—temples, castles, shrines, and the like. It’s very beautiful. Satoru takes you both to the Fushimi Inari-taisha, a long path that’s nothing but bright red torii gates. Satoru is surprisingly quiet, so it’s a peaceful moment. After the shrine, you wonder if it was just a way to calm you down before you’re forced to face the crowds to find food. It’s…honestly not as bad as you expected because with Satoru and Suguru’s huge bodies in front of and behind you, people can’t bump into you that much.
Late in the afternoon, as the sun is setting, the three of you are in a random park. Satoru is dozing off, head in Suguru’s lap, and Suguru is reading a book. It’s good inspiration, so you draw them. Not like that’s anything unusual. You do feel a little sad, a little nostalgic when you flip through your personal sketchbook and see the gradual loss of…youth, you guess. Even Shoko isn’t unaffected. You wonder how you look to everyone else.
At twilight, Satoru decides he can’t stall anymore, and he finally picks up the phone that he’s been ignoring all day.
jjk
“Your parents aren’t what I expected,” Suguru comments when the three of you shuffle into his obscenely large bedroom.
Meanwhile, your question is, “Is this not your room?” Sure, Satoru brought a lot of stuff when he moved on campus, but this room is…weirdly empty. Not a hint of his love for Digimon, no posters, and the bedsheets look like they belong to an older person rather than a teenager.
“Right? My parents are super weak. They were low on the Gojo ladder, but then they had yours truly, and they’re practically worshipped now. I’ve never lived with them much, though. They handed me over to tutors and people who could teach me about sorcery,” Satoru explains. “I was in another section of the compound, but when I come to Kyoto, I’m a good son and stay with my parents.”
Suguru voices what you’re both thinking. “Satoru, that’s…really sad. You know that, right?”
“Eh.” Satoru shrugs off the concern. “It’s probably how every other rich kid is treated. Non-sorcerers get boarding schools, and I got training and missions.”
“Missions?”
“Yeah?” Satoru cocks his head to the side, genuinely confused by your disbelief. “What? I’m Gojo Satoru, wielder of the Six Eyes. You think I was sitting around on my ass until high school?”
Suguru is pressing a thumb against the center of his forehead. “I’m too tired to tell you how fucked up that is, Satoru. We’ll save it for another day.”
“Agreed,” you say with a nod. “And don’t expect me to be polite to any of your family.”
“I don’t get you guys, but okay. Let’s go to bed.”
It takes a bit of maneuvering. There’s some giggling when, as you three try to get settled in Satoru’s massive bed, you all bump into some ticklish spots. You argue even more about the positioning. Finally, you decide that the birthday boy is stuck in the middle. Besides, he’s always ice cold, so he won’t get too hot, anyway.
Satoru has an arm thrown around your shoulders and Suguru’s. Suguru’s cheek is up in the crook of Satoru’s neck while yours is above his heart. It’s a nice sensation, listening to the frantic beat of Satoru’s heart slow as the minutes pass by. Suguru is half-asleep when he reaches out to lace his fingers through yours, placing them on Satoru’s stomach. They’re both asleep before you, which isn’t a surprise. They must be exhausted, constantly coming and going on missions.
I wish I was stronger.
Strong enough to shoulder these burdens with them, strong enough to face down the old men that treat Satoru and Suguru like weapons to be used and feared, strong enough to stop childishly clinging to everyone else, strong enough to protect these so very precious moments, strong enough…
I’m weak.
And that’s a bitter truth but a still a truth regardless.
#satosugu x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk x reader#satoru gojo#suguru geto#autistic reader#autistic gojo#jjk fanfic
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This is too hopeful, but is there any chance Regulus was never invested in Voldemort's cause and always had grandiose ideas of taking him down from the inside? That the Voldemort-fangirl cutouts on his bedroom were actually research of patterns of activities?
This is the first thought I had when I read the book as a teenager, and maybe it's a simplistic and immature assessment - but what made sense to me was not the rosy idea that "he was good all along", but how I saw his potential relationship with Sirius.
I imagine Regulus did not have a happy childhood because his best friend was the house elf, and the Black home sounds like a horrible environment, even if you toe the line to do your best to live up to the name's expectations.
I just imagined him as a quieter younger sibling who wanted to prove himself smarter than the boisterous outspoken older sibling by approaching the situation completely differently. Failed dismally, obviously.
But again, I was a teenager, and I read many different meta pieces on Regulus, including some of yours (I think). Just wondering if you think there's space for this interpretation.
this is very cute, anon. the teenage commitment to wanting to see the best in a sad-eyed boy is universal, and i respect it enormously.
but no. it's not what's happening here.
regulus serves two very interesting purposes narratively.
the first is that - across order of the phoenix and half-blood prince - he serves as the narrative parallel to draco malfoy: someone whose interest in the death eaters is inextricable from his perception of his role as a pureblood son from an extremely class-conventional family; someone who wants to be perceived as important in contrast to a rather more impressive family member; someone whose blood-supremacist beliefs are completely sincere and whose support for voldemort is completely genuine, but whose understanding of how voldemort intends to achieve his aims is hopelessly naive; someone who gets in over his head and then panics; and someone whose relationship with voldemort is seen by harry as entirely subordinate.
[he never assumes draco will succeed in his mission, for example. nor that draco will be able to outfox voldemort in any way. why he pities him is because he thinks draco's going to be murdered by the dark lord any minute, but he also views this as - essentially - a skill issue, which wouldn't be a problem for him...]
but in deathly hallows, regulus' narrative purpose shifts. the revelations about his turn against voldemort become the dress rehearsal for the reveal of snape's true loyalties at the end of the book - he's someone who had a damascene conversion when voldemort threatened somebody he cared for, gave his life to bring the dark lord down, and did so in a clandestine way [i.e. by ordering kreacher not to reveal what he'd done] in order to protect the surviving member of the family he loved from voldemort's wrath.
[although the idea that kreacher was his best - or, indeed, only - friend isn't actually stated in the text. regulus is implied to be someone fairly lonely by the narrative - the photograph of him as seeker (the only player who acts alone) follows harry seeing the photograph of sirius and his friends - but all we ever learn about his relationship with kreacher is that it was kind. and, indeed, that it was similar to walburga, narcissa and bellatrix's treatment of him - which hermione says, and kreacher doesn't correct her.]
regulus' second narrative purpose - along with his parents - is to underscore that blood-supremacy is a mainstream political view.
the series dispenses with this in deathly hallows, when voldemort's malevolence becomes much more singular and the conflict narrows to the final confrontation between good and evil, but prior to this book it's clear that the death eaters' political rhetoric is just speaking the quiet part out loud. pretty much everyone thinks that being pureblood is better and there are too many muggleborns knocking about being annoying, they just don't say it.
orion and walburga don't support voldemort because they're uniquely immersed in dark magic. they support him because they're mainstream and conventional and conformist - while sirius, the family's free-thinker, is none of those things and therefore not a voldemort fan. the same thing is being implied by them supporting voldemort as by vernon reading the daily mail - that they're small-minded and conservative, but not radical. vernon would be horrified by a radical right-wing terror group who sought to destroy the status quo he values. orion and walburga pivoted away from voldemort because his violence became similarly radical.
regulus joins the death eaters, then, due to convention. he wants to prove himself - absolutely - but he wants to do so within a social structure he's familiar with and which he and his family value. his doubts about voldemort clearly begin when it becomes apparent to him that voldemort wants to destroy the wizarding social order and build it anew.
and his best parallel here is percy weasley.
percy is - by far - the most conventional of the weasleys. his estrangement from his family in the latter half of the series is meant as a criticism of this conventionality - percy believes what he's told and doesn't think for himself and conforms to the group and so on - and his estrangement from his family is also clearly intended by the text of order of the phoenix to provide more context than the surface-level narrative is able to about sirius and regulus' relationship:
"I'm just s-s-so worried," she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this... and P- P-Percy's not talking to us... What if something d-d- dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up?"
percy gets written a lot by the fandom as someone who was a secret resistance fighter during the thicknesse regime. i'm afraid i've always thought this is nonsense - not because i think he was a death eater [i don't!] but because i think his position, as someone who clearly doesn't like to go against the crowd, would be to keep his head down and try to get through the war without rocking the boat.
his decision to fight in the battle of hogwarts is him rejecting his earlier conformity and taking a stand. so is regulus' decision to turn against voldemort. and the implication of the text is that both of these decisions are reasonably abrupt "shit or get off the pot" moments.
and this is why the narrative considers them impressive.
the central theme of the series is choice - and, specifically, the choice between what is right and what is easy. the narrative wouldn't care about snape if he'd always been a double agent, it cares because he had once sincerely believed in voldemort and then chose to do the right thing and reject him.
in the text's eyes, then, regulus' choice to sacrifice himself to defeat voldemort is actually much more impressive if we assume he was a loyal death eater than if we assume he saw through voldemort straight away. and notwithstanding the moral question, i also think it's much more interesting.
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ES Starscream: What they took from him (last minute!)
I can't stop thinking about season 2 of Earthspark so I'm at it again. Overall I was mostly unbothered to the very last 10 minutes of the last episode, this last minutes made me so mad it's unbelievable. So what I'm gonna do now is list all the things that got screwed up in this short time, particulary how Starscream character got absolutely butchered.
Without further ado, that's the list: > Starscream lost any agenda. His agenda in this season wasn't good anyway ofc, but it was ANYTHING at the end of final episode he's just. gone. and that's it woohoo. > Starscream lost his respect among the Decepticons. It was interesting for me how we could see how obedient towards him they were, a bit in season 1 but mostly in season 2. Even Shockwave didn't dare to question him most of the time. I was waiting to discover why is that so. Maybe they knew he was capable of pulling a stunt like the one he did at the end of season 2 so far? But yea we will never know bc noone from Decepticons is going to stick around him now, and now Shockwave is the leader so gap has been filled. so fun. > He also lost his mission, his care for anything! cyberforming Earth was ment to serve the Decepticons, his fellow cybertronians. But first in the dialogue with Hashtag Starscream says he's doing it just for himself and then he just. Lost his mind i guess. > Speaking of Hashtag. Starscream in this dialogue with her twists his own words from "What Dwells Within" from season one. His words coming from genuine care we saw developing in that episode here are shown as somehow mischievious, as some stupid foreshadowing. Its completely insane how the show retrospectively is erasing everything that could make Starscream redeemable later on. Awful, absolutely awful. > Hashtag also says that his actions will make him worse than Megatron, and he accepts that. The intention of this specific line is super clear. It makes his relationship in simplistic reality of the cartoon somewhat less of a problem. Starscream is bad right, even worse than Megatron, so why bother. I fear that's the way this series closes the problem of Megatron's and Starscream's relationship, expecially with how earlier on in season 2 Megatron is framed as reasonable and the one trying to speak to him before the fight. I'm afraid we will never hear anything about them that makes sense in this show. And it's just so disappointing. > Starscream murdering two children (that's what Chaos Terrans are ok) which is. Oh my god. It's such a cheap move to make the character unredeemable. Not to mention how deaths of Aftermath and Spitfire were kiiiiiinda convenient for our protagonists. "uh oh how sad they are dead how could you Starscream :(((((( ok now lets get the Emberstone that is now complete thanks to them being dead :))))))" > About that scene. I hate it from different reason, too. Because the way Starscream treated Chaos Terrans, expecially Spitfire was a beacon of hope for me in this season. The way he was never violent towards them (even Breakdown kicked Aftermath! And Starscream never did anything like that, even when Twitch in Spitfire's body made a mess and ruined the equipment!). The way we could kinda see him getting closer with Spitfire, in the way that reminded me how kind he could be for Hashtag in season 1. And all of this absolutely ruined, none of this was relevant.
So that's all I've gathered, if you have something more feel free to add your observations! Starscream's character in season 1 is very dear to me, even if "What Dwells Within" isn't perfect I still loved it so I feel personally robbed by season 2.
#this is my roman empire#im sorry i cant stop thinking about it#its a tragedy really#maccadam#transformers#transformers earthspark#earthspark#earthspark season 2#earthspark spoilers#starscream#earthspark starscream#tf earthspark#look how they massacred my boy
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In Another World
Part 2
Request: Hi! Can I please request a Kylo x f!reader oneshot where she’s from Earth, & doesn’t know about jedi + 1st order(she’s not a Jedi/no powers). One day stumbles upon something that causes her to teleport where the 1st Order is. Kylo & troops notice her & capture her(she’s terrified/confused), He keeps her safe, & to fully protect her, he marries her so the order doesn’t question why she’s alive. She hates it at first, but they both fall in love, she even talks him down, so he doesn’t kill his dad. Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt
Warnings: angst
WC: 1.5 K.
You can read part 1 here. Fictober Challenge
You didn’t understand why Ren had forced you into a marriage at first. You assumed, like other men who force women into such bonds, that he wanted something cruel and selfish. You prepared yourself to resist, even if fear gripped you, you would rather die than let him touch you like that.
But to your surprise, on your wedding night, he entered your now shared room with nothing but a condition: you would obey his commands in public, but in private, you had the freedom to be yourself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than being in a cell.
Over time, your defenses softened. He remained cold and stoic, but he started inviting you to join him for dinner.
Those dinners were silent and tense at first, but one evening he asked, “How was your day?” It startled you, and the truth tumbled out; how suffocating it was to stay locked up every day in your room. Something changed then. He began to let you roam the base, and you’d walk alongside him, watching as he commanded his troops.
Then, there was that fateful day on a distant planet, where he was hunting rebels. He asked if you wanted to step outside, to feel the sun on your skin. It was a monumental leap of trust on both sides. You spent the day collecting wildflowers you’ve never seen in your life. And when he saw your collection that night, he laughed- a genuine laugh that lit up his entire face. It amused him how you seemed to be so fascinated with these common, mundane flowers. It was the start of something beautiful, fragile, and so terribly dangerous.
The flowers became your secret language. Every time he returned from a mission, he brought you a new one. Each time he saw the sparkle in your eyes and the smile he put on your face, his heart softened further. But the day he brought a flower and your smile didn't reach your eyes, something in him shattered.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, hesitantly stepping closer.
“Nothing,” you shook your head dismissively.
He took your hand, a rare gentleness in his touch. “I know you’re lying. Please. Tell me.”
You hesitated, your gaze flickering to meet him. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do. Please talk to me,” he urged.
“I was just thinking… about everything,” you admitted.
He frowned, confusion and worry etched in his features. “And that made you sad?”
You nodded. “Yes. Because I see good in you, Ren. You don’t have to serve the dark side,” you said, cautiously.
His hand fell away, his eyes darkening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do,” you insisted, stepping forward. “You don’t have to be the monster you pretend to be. I know there’s a part of you that is good. You saved my life. At first, I thought it was out of cruelty or control, but now I see… you were trying to protect me. You can’t hide that part of yourself anymore.”
“And why does that matter?” His voice grew rough with frustration, his fists clenching at his sides. “Why does it matter if I’m good or bad?”
“Because I have grown to care about you,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I like you. And it hurts to see you hiding behind this wall, pretending to be something you’re not. You’re more than just darkness and cruelty-”
His expression shifted, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Y- you care about me?” The words seemed to echo in his mind, blocking out everything else you said.
As he pointed that out, you realized you revealed more than you intended. You took a shaky breath, there was no denying it now. “I…I do.”
You braced yourself for anger or rejection, but instead, he closed the distance between you. His hand rested at the back of your head, and he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort, rejection. Finding none, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours,s o gently you almost didn’t believe it was real. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling as you deepened the kiss, feeling the walls between you finally crack.
From then on, he became more caring, more affectionate. Even with his troops, he was still intimidating but gentler.
He had opened up to you, sharing stories of his past, of his grandfather, and the legacy that haunted him. In return, you spent hours studying their histories, trying to understand the world that shaped him.
One day, he captured a girl who held crucial information about his uncle. He didn;t want you to see her, but word got around, and you found your way to the room. The sight of her, bound and defiant, brought back memories of your own capture. You talked to her, and eventually, you freed her. She hesitated, begging you to leave with her, but you told her that Kylo wouldn’t harm you.
“Where is she?” he stormed into your shared room, his voice like thunder.
“Who?” you feigned innocence, though your heart raced.
“Don’t play with me, Y/n. I’m not in the mood. Where’s the girl?” His fists clenched, his nostrils flaring.
“Oh, Rey?” you replied with forced nonchalance. “I let her go.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Let her go? You let her go?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea what-” He was interrupted by a trooper informing him they’d located her. His father was there, too. Without another word, he stormed out, leaving you behind.
You followed, finding him poised to strike his father down. “Stop!” you cried, your voice cracking with desperation.
“Get back to your room,” he ordered, his voice like ice.
“Ben, please,” you pleaded, taking a cautious step forward. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, raising a hand, ready to use the Force.
“Remember what you told me about your grandfather?” you pressed, your voice trembling but determined. “Vader returned to the light. He saved his son, and his son saved him. If you want to honor him, let your father go. Please, come back to me. I won’t leave without you.”
“Y/n!” he growled, the conflict raging in his eyes.
Heart pounding, you took a final step back toward the railing. “I’m giving you a choice, Ben. Will you let your love for me win…or your thirst for power and revenge?”
“Don’t try anything reckless,” he warned, fear flashing across his face.
“Then choose me,” you whispered, before letting yourself fall into the void. Fear gripped you, you didn’t want to die, but hope lingered- that he would save you, choose you.
You never hit the ground. His arms caught you, and you opened your eyes, he held you tightly. He’d let go of his father to save you. He chose love over hate.
Guiding him back to the light was a slow, painful process, but he let you in, step by step. Peace followed, but the dream began: visions of a place you knew you had to return to. You couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. You knew what that meant. You had to go, leave him behind, return to your life, your own timeline. You spent the last few days giving him all the love you could, spending every minute of every day with him.
The day finally came. You brought him the coordinates, the dread heavy in the air. When he asked you about it, you told him you’d been having dreams about that place and wanting to explore it, without explaining further.
When you arrived, you saw the thing that looked like a portal of some kind, but he couldn’t see it. To him it looked like a wall.
He sensed your pain and unease. “Y/n, why are we here?”
You inhaled slowly, unsure of how to tell him this. “I have to go back.”
“Go back? Where, Y/n? Go back where?” He knew the truth, but he didn’t want to hear it, believe it.
“You know where,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “I have to. All signs are telling me I can’t be here, Ben. The dreams, this unsettling feeling, the accidents lately. I’m not meant to be here anymore,” you explained.
“Nonsense,” he whispered, voice cracking. “You belong here with me. You can’t leave me now…Please,” he begged, his voice breaking.
“I believe I was brought here to save you, to guide you back to the light.That purpose is fulfilled. I must go back and you have to let me. I don’t belong here and you know that, no matter how much I want to, how much you want me to… If you love me, you will let me go.” A tear slipped down your cheek and in a moment he was there, wiping it away, his hand trembling.
“But I love you,” he choked out.
“I love you, too. Maybe in another world, in another life, we’ll find our way back to each other. I will miss you so so much, Ben. And I will always love you.”
You kissed him one last time, lingering, memorizing every sensation, not wanting the kiss to end. But it had to. You struggled to pull away, but when you did, you didn’t look back. You walked toward the portal, his fingers slipping from yours. That touch was the last thing you felt before awoke, to see yourself back in the lab, with tears streaming down your face.
Tags: @aoi-targaryen
#star wars#kylo ren#ben solo#fictober#whumptober#kylo ren x reader#star wars x reader#star wars imagine#kylo ren imagine#ben solo x reader#ben solo imagine#gif imagine#adam driver#kylo ren one shot#ben solo one shot#fictober24#angst
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CHEERFUL OBLIVION - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER (CHAPTER TWO)
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Summary: Your duty is to watch her 'till Chton comes for her, even if you hate it, but do you really hate it? Especially when you start to get to know Wanda. The bond begins to torment you. But, oh Lord, you've never been so in love. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five chapter six
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masterlist
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tw: angst, violence, mentions of death, fluff, angst with a happy ending.
Jules/Stolas is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤchapter two
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Almost four months have passed since Wanda and Y/N met. Even if the progress was slow, the Sokovian looked less sad, every time she left her room it was to go see Y/N or spar with Natasha.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Although they sometimes had dinner with the Avengers, they always had a special moment together. Wednesdays and Fridays were their 'special days just for two'.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Missions have been difficult but nothing that endangered her friends. Friends, this is how Wanda was beginning to see the people around her. They were no longer the 'avengers', Nat, Kate, Y/N, Jules, Yelena, Clint, each and every one of them cared about her. And she cared about them too.
Slowly the brunette began to come out of that bubble, feeling less hurt and finally accepting the loss to begin to heal.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Unlike Wanda, the one who was beginning to have serious trouble was Y/N, whose confusion and guilt was slowly devouring her from the inside.
How could she have a friendship with someone she had to betray sooner or later? How many times had Abaddon say that she shouldn't come near Wanda?
Thousands of times in thousands of years Y/N ran away from this type of relationship and now, as if it was like magic, Wanda made her feel so… comfortable. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
Wanda made her smile genuinely. Wanda made her try harder, Wanda worried her. Wanda. Wanda. Wanda. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ It was disgusting!
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Now she not only had to deal with lying to Abaddon, saying that the Sokovian was getting closer and closer to breaking down, but she had to lie to Wanda who was beginning to blindly trust her. Just like the other Avengers, who already trusted her.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Steve did it, the man was honest and always repeated that Y/N was a great agent. Bucky said the same thing, maybe he was closer to Y/N than Steve. He was trying to make amends for his past too, so he understood how to trust but also how to understand other people's mistakes. Natasha and Yelena trusted her enough to have her as their right hand on missions. Kate seemed to be glued all day to Jules, looking like two dumb twins separated at birth.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Everything was starting to get too personal and that tormented Y/N.
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“Good! But you have to improve more in your defense, okay?” Natasha said as she took Jules hand, helping get up from the mat.The brunette smiled and just nodded quickly and walked over to Y/N, who was looking at her in confusion. Totally surprised that Natasha was the winner.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ “Did you let her win? There's no way she could beat you that way.” Y/N whispered, looking at Jules who was still blushing and smiling. How was it possible for a demon to be defeated by a simple powerless agent?
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ Jules smiled mischievously and wiped the sweat with a towel. “Dude, I had Natasha Romanoff top on me for a few seconds, that's enough gain. I don’t mind losing.” ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Y/N's face said it all.
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Maybe it wasn't just her who was getting too involved in all of this. Jules seemed to quickly get used to them, to… being an agent. Just a ‘human being’.
How could Stolas forget where she came from? She was an ancient demon, respected as a Prince of Hell. Demon Prince of the Day.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ Now she let herself be beaten and rubbed by a simple human.
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The bile rose as high as the anger, perhaps because she was projecting her own frustrations and fears onto Jules. But those thoughts disappeared when the Russian caught their attention again.
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“Wanda and Y/N.” Nat pointed at them. “Let's see what you have.” ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
Sighing, Y/N watched as Wanda nodded and stood on the mat. The demon did the same, perhaps a little embarrassed knowing that she was going to defeat Wanda in the blink of an eye.
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“Come on, go first.” Y/N said perhaps too smug, as if she were doing the girl a favor. The demon threw a punch into the air so slowly that she knew Wanda could easily dodge it, but instead of dodging it, the Sokovian grabbed her arm, forcing Y/N to fall to the ground hard.
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Y/N stood up from the mat and looked at her in surprise.
She tried to go for her one more time but Wanda made her fall again, not just once but twice more. She wasn't even using her powers.
In the third time, the Sokovian ended up sitting on her belly preventing Y/N from moving in a key aikido technique.
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“I’m sorry.” Wanda asked worriedly, blushing quite a bit as she brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Are you okay?”
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“I-I’m fine. Yeah.” Surprised, agitated and a little blushing too, Y/N nodded trying to catch her breath. Noticing the position they were in, Wanda quickly stood up.
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“That was great, Wanda!” Natasha clapped her hands proudly, quite surprised that the Sokovian finally fought back.
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Somewhat embarrassed, Y/N walked away towards Jules who was waiting for her with a bottle of water and a towel.
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“You let her win too?” Jules asked curiously but Y/N just threw the towel at her face.
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“Shut up!” Y/N growled and walked away from the gym so she could clear her head. Of course Wanda noticed Y/N's annoyance but she didn't say anything. Perhaps she blamed the agent’s damaged ego.
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After about two or three hours running around the lake, Y/N decided to come back and take a long shower. All afternoon trying to think of something else, but Wanda seemed to remain, like a curse, not letting her go.
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The demon tried to avoid the places where the sokovian usually was, she finally entered her room and leaned against the door, sighing.
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“Are you OK? I've noticed that you're a little upset.” Jules' voice made her jump.
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The brunette was in bed, with a towel on her head, watching some kind of animated series and eating some chips.
It was pretty funny, and Y/N would laugh all night if she weren't so upset.
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
Frowning, she asked herself what could be worse? She had to talk to someone to understand what was happening, right? Couldn't tell anyone that she was a demon, feeling confused about a girl. Talking to Stolas was better than nothing.
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“Yeah… it’s just… Can we talk?” Y/N licked her lips and sat on the bed, next to Jules.
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“Sure, about what?” The dark haired girl sat down, leaving the chips aside so Y/N could take some.
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Taking a moment to think through her words, Y/N fixed her gaze on her friend's brown eyes. “What are you doing? I mean, what are we doing here?”
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What was she doing in this place? Making friends, eating, doing missions to save people.
She had been making the work of people like the Avengers worse for millennia, and now she was working for them. And she did it gladly.
She was watching Wanda’s back when she hated that girl her entire life, having to 'protect' her, now Y/N was beginning to feel affection for Wanda even though she always avoided it.
Everything was so confusing!
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
Of course that's what she meant, but Jules simply smiled tenderly and pointed to her Stark tablet.
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“What am I doing? I'm watching this thing… I’m really into this anime called 'Demon Slayer'. It’s so good! Do you wanna watch it with me?”
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Oh, awfully innocent. Silence. A tense silence formed between them.
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Blinking in complete shock, Y/N stared at the brunette trying to understand if it was a joke. She was trying to talk about something important and Stolas was just... talking about watching TV.
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“I don't mean that… Wait, you’re watching this… ‘anime’ about how they hunt demons… And you are a demon?” Y/N narrowed her eyes trying to understand it, and of course trying not to sound sarcastic. Seeing how Jules nodded excitedly, Y/N just shook her head. “You’re really something…”
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
“Oh! Thank you.” Jules smiled proudly, thinking it was a real compliment.
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
She couldn't even tell the difference between damn sarcasm, Y/N just got even angrier.
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“Ugh, I can’t talk to you!” Y/N exclaimed in annoyance and stood up to leave the room, leaving her friend confused, but Jules just shrugged.
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Walking with some haste and enough annoyance to make many agents walk away when they saw her, Y/N arrived at the dining room where she saw Kate Bishop sitting in front of the window enjoying a pizza with her dog, Lucky.
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“Bishop!” Y/N exclaimed loudly, pointing at her. “I have to talk to you!”
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Sitting in front of Kate, the demon surprised the archer who opened her eyes wide, stammering. “Umh, I thought you hated me but okay!”
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“We need to talk.” Y/N sighed. “You look like an irresponsible child who takes risks and puts yourself in danger, but trustworthy enough to hear what I have to say.”
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“Wow… Okay! Sharp but sincere, tell me what you want to talk about.” Kate looked at her curiously, inviting her to have a slice of pizza but Y/N shook her head.
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Lucky watched the demon for a long time, as if he knew she was up to no good, but never attacked or growled at her. Maybe because she hadn't done anything wrong yet, but even so, he remained alert.
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“I've been feeling... strange.” Y/N started a little awkwardly, she cleared her throat without knowing how to express herself very well.
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“Like what…?” The archer narrowed her eyes, Lucky decided to go to sleep on the couch, leaving them alone.
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“About Wanda…” Y/N gulped, a little nervously. “I've been feeling different when I’m with her. I wanted to talk to Jules about it but she's not... she's not THE person... she's not even a person most of the time.” She complained, pinching the bridge of her nose.
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“Wanda? Oh!” Kate's eyes widened, realizing what it was all about. “About love, well I'm not an expert...”
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“It's not about love, of course not!” The demon cut her off, shaking her head. How could it be about love? Maybe this girl perhaps wasn't as insightful as she seemed. Maybe she should have talked to Barnes.
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“What do you feel specifically?” The brunette asked as she drank some soda, noting that it was the first time she had seen Y/N so nervous and worried. The woman always seemed so tough and badass. “Without you looking at me as if you wanted to kill me with your gaze.”
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Frowning, Y/N thought about getting up and leaving but little by little that hard and serious expression began to relax. Kate was just trying to help her.
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“Today, when we spar together, she made me fall… And at first I felt so angry. Ugh!” She clenched her jaw, couldn't believe it. Just remembering it made her blood boil. “I mean, no one has ever brought me down in my life. And it is a very long life, Kate!”
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
She stood up from her seat, slamming the table and making Kate jump.
The archer didn't say anything, just watched as Y/N paced back and forth like a caged beast.
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“But she managed to make me stumble and fall easily, that made me feel so upset.” Y/N shook her head. “But then that went away fast and I felt so proud… then I felt worried. So many feelings! How can you get them all at once?!”
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ
She stared out the glass window. The colors in the sky were fascinating and disturbing.
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“I could have hurt her.” Y/N murmured worriedly. She finally blurted out what was really worrying her.
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Kate sighed. “But you didn’t.”
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“But I could.” Suddenly Y/N turned to see Kate, who was looking at her with some tenderness. Why was the archer looking at her with that tender look?
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“She’s enhanced.” Kate tried to calm her down and make her understand, not realizing there was something deeper going on.
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“And I am-…” Y/N was going to keep going but stopped. A demon.
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She was a demon, she was much more powerful, but Kate couldn't know that. How could Y/N be so stupid to almost let it out? “A simple agent, I know.”
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Y/N looked down.
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“I didn't mean that.” Kate quickly apologized, embarrassed. She didn't want to break the progress she finally had with Y/N.
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“I know.” Y/N she sighed deeply, sitting back down. “But I worry… and that’s the deal, I never worry about anyone. She's my friend, but I don't feel like... a friend.”
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Kate was about to say something and paused for a few seconds, wondering if it was the right thing to say, but Y/N sought her out because of her sincerity, she had to honor that.
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“Maybe you're falling in love... What's wrong with that?” The archer shrugged, noticing how Y/N opened her eyes so wide that she thought they would pop out of their place.
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“You don't get it, can’t be ‘love’. That's not possible!” The demon exclaimed in fear. That would be the worst thing that could happen to her.
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“Why not?” Kate looked at her confused. “It's not bad to feel love for someone. Are you homophobic or something?”
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Those words made Y/N laugh so bad and so real that Kate was even more surprised. How could she be homophobic? She was a demon! She had always been with women, she had always preferred them but not to love.
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“Of course not!” Y/N quickly defended herself. “I love women, I just…”
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Y/N swallowed, noticing how Kate was waiting to hear more.
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“I just… can’t.” Y/N mumbled. “I didn't think I could be capable. That's going against everything I know, It's dangerous… you don't understand. It's not like you and Yelena. I wasn't made for this.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
After that, both of them were silent for a moment. Kate considered it necessary because Y/N seemed quite shocked at that news.
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“What am I going to do now?” Y/N whispered to herself. “If I am in love with her…”
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“You should tell her.” Kate pursed her lips, but when Y/N stood up from her seat she did the same. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I didn't think you liked me…”
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“I do.” Y/N was trying to deal with everything at once. She sighed deeply, trying to focus on Kate. “I'm not used to being grateful or being close to people.”
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‘You're a good person and I'm not, not even a person. I just wanted to use you to go unnoticed.’ She thought.
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Y/N gulped, after an awkward silence she was brave enough to break it. “Thank you, Kate.”
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Y/N extended her hand to shake it with the archer's. Surprised, Kate nodded and shook her hand.
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“Would you like to jog with us? Tomorrow. Jules and I we used to do it, then we'll go get some lunch, maybe pizza.”
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Kate giggled, but was grateful for the invitation. “Is that healthy?”
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“Does it matter?” Finally Y/N smiled and shrugged, for the first time she was genuine with her.
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“Yeah, I- I'd like to.” Feeling endless emotions, Kate recognized that she felt happy and excited to share something with 'new friends' like Y/N and Jules. She didn't know anyone but her girlfriend Yelena in that place, and Clint was always with his family. It was normal for the archer to feel alone.
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“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N nodded and turned to leave, now she needed some time to think about everything.
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Once she got far enough away, her face changed from a happy one to a worried one.
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But even though Kate advised her to tell Wanda about those feelings, Y/N decided it was best to walk away.
Her job was to ‘watch’ her and nothing more, she didn't have to interfere in the sokovian’s life and change everything. Why didn't she listen to Abaddon?
ㅤㅤㅤ
The demon complained over and over again, especially when she felt that strange anguished feeling in her chest when she missed Wanda. Thinking about her or avoiding her was driving Y/N crazy. Is this how humans felt?
ㅤㅤㅤ
Y/N looked at her watch and then quickened the pace. Didn't have much time if she wanted to get to the gym before Wanda did, maybe she could spar with Jules or Kate before the Sokovian arrived.
But when she turned into the hallway, ended up colliding with a brunette who seemed to be waiting for her.
ㅤㅤㅤ
‘Fuck’ Y/N thought.
ㅤㅤㅤ
Well, she knew that was going to happen at some point, but didn't expect it to be so soon. The woman was evading Wanda for so many days and she was lucky, but she wasn't going to be able to evade her forever.
Y/N stopped attending their dinners, besides not sparring at the same time. Even signed up for more missions just to not see her but she was just there.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Hey.” Wanda whispered, looking up. She started playing with her rings a little nervously.
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“Hey.” Y/N murmured, scratching her neck, thinking of some quick excuse to run away.
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“Are you going to spar?” Wanda asked just to make some small talk, since the moment seemed pretty awkward. Y/N was going to answer but Wanda stopped her: “I haven't seen you for some nights. I feel like you're avoiding me.”
ㅤㅤ
‘Tell her the truth, don't gaslight her.’
ㅤㅤ
“Did I do something to upset you, Y/N?” The sokovian gulped at Y/N's guilty silence. “Have I done something wrong?”
ㅤㅤ
But Y/N stayed quiet, not knowing what to say or do.
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‘Say something, say it’s not true!’ Y/N thought.
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“No, Wanda, of course not.” Her lips began to move but she couldn't say anything coherent. She had never felt so uncomfortable and sad. “It’s just…”
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‘It's just that I'm made to make you suffer.’ She thought again.
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Smiling sadly, Wanda just looked down. “I’m boring, right?”
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‘Oh, don't be such an idiot to make her believe that!’
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“What? No! Of course not!” Y/N exclaimed quickly, begging for Wanda to believe her, to look up and see her eyes to notice that she was telling the truth. “It's not your fault, Wands, it's actually my fault…”
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Without understanding what she meant, Wanda tilted her head.
Y/N just sighed and took Wanda’s hand to lead her to a more intimate place, leaving together to the nearest terrace.
ㅤㅤ
“I just haven't been feeling well lately.” Y/N licked her lips nervously, wondering if it was really a good time to tell the truth.
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“What's going on? What is it? I’m worried.” Wanda put her sadness aside to feel worried, even taking a step forward to look into Y/N’s eyes.
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“I don't want to make things worse.” Y/N pursed her lips, not knowing how to begin.
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‘Too late, you already have since you got involved with her.’
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“Please, maybe I can help you.” Wanda tried, taking her hand.
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That adorable and simple gesture just made Y/N open her eyes big in surprise. Feeling the warmth of Wanda's fingers intertwined with hers, it was so new, overwhelming and welcoming. A gesture so gentle, she could have sworn her eyes watered.
ㅤㅤ
“I’ve been feeling a little different around you.” The demon finally opened up, leaving her ‘head’ aside and speaking from 'the heart'. One that she never had, one that had been dry for so long but apparently was beginning to beat.
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Wanda frowned, still not understanding.
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“Wanda… I think… I like you, a little. I do… like you.” Y/N whispered. Despite her babbling, it felt so much better to be able to let go. “And that is causing this big confusion inside me.”
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The demon looked for some answer in Wanda's eyes, trying to see if she was angry, or if maybe if she reciprocated those feelings.
Maybe expecting the witch to smile and say something cute but Wanda just opened those huge eyes, surprised.
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“Oh.” That was all that left Wanda’s lips. Y/N wasn't ready to hear what was next.
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“I thought we were just friends.” Wanda finished not only those words, but also the demon's dry heart.
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Quiet and sorrowful, Y/N didn't know how to proceed. Her head was beginning to scream so loud; escape, scream at her, kill her, run away, say everything is fine.
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“You didn't… You don't feel the same.” Y/N frowned at her in confusion, feeling like a complete idiot. “I thought that-”
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Wanda's look so embarrassed only caused Y/N's heart to be engulfed by a huge invisible awful beast.
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She didn't say anything, just looked down at those rings. Y/N could hear her heart racing, possibly because of the shame the witch felt.
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How could she have confused everything? Fucking Kate! She said that-
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No, she didn't say anything. It was all coming from Y/N's head. It was all Y/N’s own fault, and it weighed heavily on her chest. Anguish was beginning to close her throat, never felt so stupid.
ㅤㅤ
The demon broke something so important to both of them, without even meaning to. Anyway, she was meant to hurt her, right?
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“Okay. This is awkward.” Y/N laughed wryly, shaking her head. She took a few steps back, not even able to see Wanda.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Wanda, who seemed totally shocked and surprised. Who didn't know how to react to such a confession, much less from someone she considered a friend. Y/N dared to break their bond, one that was not easy to build.
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“I-I'm sorry, I-. I have to go.” Wanda murmured nervously and turned to leave quickly, without even hearing the last words of who she considered her friend.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Yeah, sure.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The demon stood there, simply staring into nothingness. So many mixed feelings, that she didn't even know which one to follow.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Get angry. Go get her. Burn it all down. Don’t let her go. Tell her you care. Kill them all.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Any other time, you would have done it, you would have killed everyone. But Y/N just sighed and decided to go back to her room.
ㅤㅤ
“So, how is she doing?”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ Abaddon's voice brought Y/N back to her senses.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
They both walked through the red and warm soil of that place, a beautiful as well as dangerous place. Tanzania was an amazing, beautiful, wild place.
Sometimes it was nice to have those powers, to be able to appear wherever you want. Only the fallen could use them as they pleased, of course. Wings weren't for everyone.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Abaddon invited Y/N to follow her, she was wearing the outfit of a Serengeti National Park worker, possibly stolen from what must now be a corpse.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Our lucky girl. I've seen some videos on the internet about her, she’s powerful, not as much as I expected but that's good.” The redhead sighed as she searched for something in the grass.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“She’s okay.” Y/N sighed watching the sunset in that reserve, she had never seen a sunset like that. This world kept surprising her in incredible ways. “I mean, she's grieving her loss but nothing-”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The sound of birds flapping their wings made Y/N blink, now showing her demon eyes.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“...that indicates it's time.” Abaddon cut her off, turning to look at her. Her eyes stopped being blue and turned an angry red, dangerous and deadly. Like those of the black mamba that watched them furiously from a rock. “I've heard you say it before, I'm tired of that excuse. You have to make sure she suffers!”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Y/N swallowed.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
As the sun set, the warmth of the place faded and the cold began to be felt, which neither of them was affected by.
The crickets stopped, as if they knew a more dangerous predator was nearby.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Why are we here?” Y/N tried to avoid that talk, looking around.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Every twenty-three years I like to visit this place. I like to spill some blood.” Abaddon smiled in a creepy way, walking straight towards the Black Mamba who looked furious. “A little chat with a warlord, a little of this, a little of that… I'm not the Horseman of War but I like to make trouble.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The snake positioned itself ready to attack but the demon was faster, grabbing its neck tightly. The black mamba opened her mouth, trying to free itself but it was impossible. It was next to another more powerful predator, a much more cruel and vengeful one.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“But I also like to make certain friends like this one, then I visit some people… we play a bit. I love wicked games.” She hissed naughtily.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Y/N pursed her lips when she heard that.
She knew that Abbadon was much more perverse and evil, possibly what she would do with that snake was much darker than she imagined.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“So, Leviathan, I need you to do your job and MAKE HER SUFFER! Kill her best friend, kill her fucking dog, get rid of everything Maximoff loves!” Abaddon screamed and squeezed the snake so hard that Y/N was afraid she would kill it. But Y/N knew that the redhead was doing it on purpose. Y/N was a snake, she knew how much she respected them. It was a clear offense and if ‘Leviathan’ reacted, everything would get worse.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Maybe another demon would ‘take care’ of Wanda, and make even more chaos.
Through clenched teeth, the higher demon hissed: “I want to see her desolate and collapsed!”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Don’t say anything. Don't react. Don't think about the snake.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“I will.” barely said with a thin voice.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Good girl!” Abaddon smiled and finally released the snake, letting it go. That black mamba escaped, sliding quickly through the grass. “The girl is a caterpillar under our shoes, right now of course, but when she finally hatches… she will break free like a butterfly. A very powerful, hurt and naive one… one that we can manipulate.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Y/N nodded, like a good soldier. “And that's when our victory will be guaranteed.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Pleased to see that Y/N understood, the redhead tilted her head to play with her a little.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“We never told you but we found the book thanks to you, so many years ago. Thanks to you we found the Darkhold.” Abaddon narrowed her eyes. “It was buried in the darkest depths of this Earth, much deeper than the Mariana Trench. And you brought us that information thirty years ago...”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Oh no. It couldn't be true. That couldn't mean anything more than… everything that would happen from now on was her fault, everything they decided to do with Wanda… It was thanks to her.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Without you... she couldn't have that destiny. You‘re her savior and her executioner.” Abaddon finished clicking her tongue.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The best Y/N could do was smile, trying to look proud but terror could be seen in her eyes even though she didn't want to. She had to think of something, she had to pick a side.
Well, Wanda rejected her. Maybe thinking about it the decision could be easier, thinking about the anger she felt and the frustration of being rejected as a simple vermin.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Be sure to let me know if there are any changes. Chton is very pleased with your work.” She slowly approached Y/N, watching her a bit flirtatiously but only squeezed her cheek, as if she were a wild child.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
She was just humiliating the snake, once again.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Can I really know what you need her for?” Y/N asked in a low voice, hoping the redhead wouldn't take her question the wrong way. Abaddon was too explosive, she could take a simple question the wrong way.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The stinging silence and sharp gaze from the knight of Hell made Y/N shift uncomfortably. Seconds in which the demon thought it could end badly, until Abaddon spoke.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“The Scarlet Witch will be in charge of destroying all our enemies, unleashing her chaos magic... finally freeing Chton and tying this entire world and every reality to her whim. Not just one world, but all of them will be ours.” The demon's eyes lit up just thinking about it. A glorious plan for their entire species that would eventually dominate not just one but all realities.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Although a genuine smile was born on Y/N's lips just thinking about it, she couldn't deny that her instincts were still there, she was a chaos demon and always would be. But slowly that smile faded as she thought about how awful that could be for humans. Or rather, for those she considered worthy of saving.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Suddenly in her mind came the image of Natasha, Kate, Yelena and everyone she considered 'good'.
Where would they go? What would happen to them?
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Gulping, Y/N felt guilty.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Do you think they will allow it?” She looked up for a moment, referring to the tenth realm. Angels. “They are warriors trained to stop that, they will come for her first if they find out. They wouldn't let anything happen to humans, now they have help from other realms, like Asgard. They act stupid with big threats but this is… much bigger.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“I wouldn't worry about that.” Abaddon arched an eyebrow. “We have someone inside, they're busy with something else. They are waiting for the moment, it is inevitable. It’s them or us, and the truth is that they don't care in the least about all these monkeys. Gods would sacrifice this world without hesitation to save others.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Both began to walk together through the grass, Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Everything was ready and at the same time no one had any idea what was happening around them.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“So this Earth-” Y/N sighed, looking around, thinking how beautiful and dangerous that night was and could disappear someday. The animals that sought refuge in the night, and the macabre and charming laughter of the hyenas.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Will be doomed, like the rest.” The red eyed demon nodded. “You see, all these heroes like 'avengers vs villains' efforts… it's just halftime at the Superbowl. They're just wasting their time, they're all doomed from the moment the Earth started spinning around.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The redhead looked at a bonfire in the distance, happy to finally get to where she needed to be.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“I see.” Y/N murmured, stopping and watching as Abaddon kept walking.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“You are one of the few who knows.” Abaddon turned to look at her, this time it wasn't just a threat. “Don't let him down.”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
The demon didn't say anything other than nod her head, watching as the redhead walked away slowly.
A few minutes later, Y/N heard in the distance screams of pain and terror as well as gunshots. Several people were screaming in horror, some begging for mercy and others simply dying with honor.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Sighing, Y/N disappeared from that place to appear on the outskirts of the Compound. Perhaps the best thing that could have happened to her is that Wanda walked away from her, but it had to be so painful?
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“What? You like Wanda?!” Surprised, Jules was still at her side carrying some bags as they walked towards the hangar. The mission before them did not seem to be easy at all, but there was nothing better than a good deadly mission to forget about everything. “You told her that you liked her and she did what?!”
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Smacking Jules on the back of the head, Y/N glared at her in a deadly way to make her shut up. Although it was understandable, the brunette couldn't even begin to comprehend the magnitude of it all.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“Yes. Don't say anything, I have enough with myself.” Y/N muttered, quite annoyed, could see on her face that she hadn't rested well, especially after everything Abaddon said.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
Now she was forced to make Wanda suffer, even if it hurt her deeply.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“I'm going to kill the bitch.” Jules grunted, dropping the bags into the quinjet.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“You can’t do that.” Y/N wrinkled her nose.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“I can't do that but I would if it made you feel better.” The brunette demon pouted a little and then shrugged. Y/N smiled slightly, felt some tenderness that Stolas tried to 'defend' her. She left her bag on the quinjet, heading back out of the plane.
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“And then Abaddon asked you to hurt her deeply.” She sighed, noticing the worry on Y/N's face. “Well, at least your job will be less difficult now.”
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Y/N snorted. “You think?”
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Jules sighed, despite her evil nature, she had to be honest with her. “No, I think it will be worse, and I don't even know why.”
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None of them could say anything more than accept the harsh reality, they were made for that. It was their mission, although they began to doubt in silence. But a voice out of nowhere made them both turn around quickly, surprised to see that person in front of them.
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“Hi.” Wanda said with a small awkward smile as she played with her fingers. For days Wanda had been completely avoiding Y/N and now she was just there. “Can we talk?”
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“Hey.” Y/N frowned so confused. Those big green eyes left her speechless, Wanda looked like an adorable puppy.
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“Oh! yeah! I remembered that I have to find Kate for... something… can’t remember what… bye!” Smiling widely, Jules quickly left, leaving them alone.
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The awkward silence and nervous glances reigned for a few seconds until one of the two was brave enough to end it.
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“I'm sorry.” Y/N began, sighing heavily. The demon just looked around, noticing that Nat was approaching the Quinjet but after seeing them, she decided to quickly walk away, meeting Jules and taking her hand to leave the place.
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Y/N thought of a million things to say, telling her that she didn't even want to see her anymore, thought of telling Wanda that she had never cared about her anyway.
But she decided to speak with what she least expected. Her old, inexperienced heart.
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“I shouldn't have gone further, I shouldn't have broken our friendship. I know what it meant to you, because it meant something important to me too.” Swallowing, Y/N felt an enormous weight leave her body and that was being able to tell the truth. Felt incredibly liberating.
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“To be honest? I don't know what I'm doing.” They both began to walk together, away from the hangar. The smell of the freshly cut grass and the beautiful sunset on the horizon was enchanting. The sun and the moon so near and so far; like that little bit of light sinking into the darkness of the night. “I've never felt like this.”
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Wanda didn't say anything, just watched her thoughtfully, allowing Y/N to express herself first.
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“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Wanda, it's the first time it happened to me.”
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That made the sokovian frown curiously, looking at her gaze to see the truth. Oh, she wished she could read Y/N’s mind right now but she was also grateful she couldn't.
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“Have you never been attracted to anyone?” The brunette asked, that thick sokovian accent showing through, making it more charming. Making the demon fall in love a little more.
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“No.” Y/N answered honestly, one of the few times in her life admitting something so important. Something impossible. “Never.”
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Unable to believe it, a small smile tried to form at the corner of those lips. “Why me?”
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“I wish I knew that.” Smiling tenderly, Y/N put her hands in the pockets of the jacket. “I mean, I know why. I just don't know... why it's my first time, I know very well why it's you... You’re the one.”
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Her heart beat so hard in that confusion, was she doing the right thing? After everything Abaddon said, wasn't it better to let her go?
She couldn't even think anymore after Wanda broke the distance between them and cupped Y/N’s face, ending every doubt, finally kissing those lips that generated so much expectation.
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Enjoying those soft lips, Y/N closed her eyes not believing what she was experiencing. As if her brain sent a blow to her entire body, her arms quickly wrapped around Wanda’s waist to pull her against her body.
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Their first kiss, their first kiss leaving the pain behind and experiencing love for the first time.
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After a few seconds and the need for air, they both slowly separated without still being able to believe it. Y/N couldn't help but smile widely especially when she saw Wanda all blushing and smiling. Just two silly giggling girls.
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“I like you too.” Wanda said after gaining some courage, what did it matter? She had to finally leave the pain and fear behind. All those doubts in her head disappeared when she saw Y/N's sincere look.
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“I'm sorry I ran away like that, it's just…” The brunette sighed, trying to be honest with her and finally explain. “Everything is so hard after losing Pietro. I couldn't afford any more suffering.”
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Oh darling, if you only knew.
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Y/N gulped at those words.
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“I don't want to lose anyone else. Everyone around me… dies.” The Sokovian looked down, feeling deep sadness as she realized that tragedy always surrounded her life like a wild animal. In some way or another, she never managed to be happy until she arrived at the Compound. “It terrified me to think that if we had a stronger bond, I could lose you. I’m cursed.”
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“You won't.” Y/N said quickly, reaching out to cradle Wanda's face in her hands and gently caress her cheek. Her gaze fixed on those green eyes, letting herself be carried away by passion. “I'll do everything I can to make sure you don't.”
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The demon knew that those words were going to cost her so much, that was a very difficult and impossible promise to keep but the feeling was much deeper. She didn't know what was possessing her at that moment, something she couldn't control.
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With a hopeful look and smile, the witch felt her heart skip a beat at that oath. She was ready to let herself go with whatever they had. Whether momentary passion or real love, she didn't care. She just wanted to live again.
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“Maybe we could…” Wanda bit her bottom lip, looking up at her. The height difference between the two was charming. “I don't know… try?”
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Y/N's lips moved, about to give her an answer to that but Natasha's voice interrupted them as she approached carrying some bags. Next to her was Jules, smiling knowingly.
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“It's time to goooo! ” Nat exclaimed, walking over to the Quinjet. “Move, lovebirds!”
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Sighing, Y/N cursed the bad timing they were in right now. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
“We'll talk when I get back, okay? Can you wait for me?” Y/N turned her gaze to Wanda, seemed a little sad to see the demon leave, but knew perfectly well that it was necessary. The Sokovian nodded, eagerly waiting for the moment to see her again.
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“Sure.” Wanda looked down shily, watching as Jules watched them smiling like a fangirl, some agents passed by her. Overcoming her fear, she dared to take Y/N's hand and intertwine their fingers for a few seconds. “Take care, Y/N.”
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Biting her lip for a moment, Y/N took the opportunity to get lost in those beautiful eyes before leaning down to kiss Wanda's lips once more.
This time it was a short and more chaste kiss, but definitely hopeful.
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“See you later, Wands.” The 'agent' whispered before leaning down to pick up her bag and walk towards the Quinjet while being watched by the witch, who prayed with all her heart that the time to see each other again would be soon.
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She entered the plane and found her seat next to Jules, who pursed her lips tightly to keep from smiling, especially when Y/N looked at her with a deadly 'if you say anything I'll kill you' look.
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About twenty seconds passed until the brunette couldn't take it anymore. She quickly turned to look at Y/N, who closed her eyes and sighed knowing what was coming.
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“She kissed you.” Jules wiggled her eyebrows excitedly. “Your heart is pounding even now, I can feel hers from a distance. She's into you!”
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Turning to look at her, Y/N didn't say anything. Despite the seriousness of her face, she just leaned back on her seat. “It felt like I was back in heaven again.”
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Surprised, Jules opened her eyes wide. She couldn't believe what she heard. “What?”
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“It felt like that…” Y/N swallowed, somewhat worried, somewhat happy, somewhat confused.
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She touched her lips, caressing it gently as if she wanted to feel that feeling again. “It felt like I was in heaven again, remember? When I was happy there.”
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Unable to believe what she was saying or feeling, Y/N looked at Jules with a confidence never seen before in her gaze. “We need to think about what to do. There's no going back.”
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“We'll see what to do.” Nodding quickly, Jules leaned back in her seat as well. Staying somewhat thoughtful.
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“I’m doomed.” But Y/N's gaze was lost in a fixed point on that plane, while the rest of the agents took their places, she couldn't stop thinking about those green eyes that now gave life to her heart.
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And then she smiled.
here goes some amazing and lovely people tags ✨ : @wandanatfan @get-the-fuck-outta-here @idontknow-llol
Thank you so much for reading me! ✨ Really means a lot. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm starting the next one.
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