#or things i've already heard elsewhere
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soon it'll be dawn again
transcript under the cut ⏬
page 01
Fig: no way? - you're still up?
Riz: Wh– yes?
Riz: Why'd I not be.
page 02
Fig: I me~~ean - that took.
Fig: whole day.
Riz: Yeah?
Fig: 'm beat.
Riz: you should sleep.
page 03
Fig: nah. my guy's still up
Fig: I wanna hang out.
page 04
Riz: That's really nice.
Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.
Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.
page 05
Fig: yeah, but you do it…
Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.
Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.
page 06
Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.
Riz: … - mm.
page 07
Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.
Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.
page 08
Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.
Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now…
page 09
Fig: Hey.
Riz: ?
Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.
page 10
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)
Fig: o yea.
Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.
page 11
Fig: here u go
page 12
Riz: uh
Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.
Fig: I'll show u
page 13
Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try
Riz: uh - What. do I carve?
Fig: anything!!!
page 14
Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?
Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?
Fig: haha - watch this.
(sound effect text): FWOO—MP
page 15
Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???
Fig: Now it's fired!
Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE
Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)
Fig: ok catch!
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!
Fig: dw no need haha
page 16
Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…
Fig: now I want you to throw this.
page 17
Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon
page 18
Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now
Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise
Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?
Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u
Riz: but
page 19
Fig (off screen): RIz.
page 20
Fig: I've done all this before.
Fig: Can you trust that at least?
page 21
Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.
page 23
Riz: okay what happens now
(sound effect text): glob
page 24
Fig: we do it again!
page 25
Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)
Fig: see! you're already learning
Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.
Fig: Things change.
page 26
Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist
Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.
page 27
Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.
page 28
Fig: So?
page 29
Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#riz gukgak#figueroth faeth#technically no spoilers in this comic but listen. I Will be gloating in tags. I will Never Shut Up#for the record!! this was fully conceptualized and sketched Before the finales. I started sketching this after the boat fight#and when murph closed riz's arc this season with ''maybe it's okay to change and welcome new things'' I pogged irl#I am simply the best at reading comprehension what can I say! (<- grown ass man with roughly the same perspective on teenhood as the player#fucked up that this became so long (almost 30 squares lol) that it took me this long to finish#lmao I say all that but. genuinely I am delirious and my feelings abt riz's arc this season are so big... I was getting psychic backlash#for a While lol. it was scary!!#had to sit down and do therapy on my own ass for a bit. the teenage apocalyticisation is real. that word isnt tho Im pretty sure#truly anything you do at that age feels like that's it that's all you've got going on forever. and its not true! its simply not true#you'll be okay my guy. you love your friends so so much but also there will be more to love out there#this one goes out to fellow aroaces and also folks leaving somewhere theyve called home for a long time#nothing lasts forever but that means new things come by too! ur ability to make new is infinite!!#there's no magnum opus people leave but new people come by too etc. I am too sleepy to remember what I wanted to say uhhh#well. thank u for looking at my art. I think thats the one pack it n ship it boys
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You're not her...
I've been seeing a good bit of fics where the reader is left for another woman and people around them are encouraging it. While I do love a good angst, I would simply pass away. Your girl, Riddle, is weak.
Especially if it's my baby boy Simon.... I can't. I love the idea, but as someone who is an absolute crybaby, I wouldn't survive being reader...
So what if that happened to nurse reader's partner left them for a fellow recruit and when everyone starts being like "good for him", the 141 isn't having any of it?
The others on base seemed honestly happy that your heart had absolutely been broken. I mean, you weren't exactly around him as much as she was. You couldn't see the undeniable chemistry there was. You had tried to put on a brave face. But when John had come in for some ointment for a burn and you were falling apart, he gathered up his boys.
Something needed to be done. A point to prove not just to you or your ex or that woman who had chosen to pursue a very much taken man, but to the hold damn unit. Your ex didn't leave you because there was someone else. He left you because he didn't deserve you in the first place.
In hand to hand, Johnny doesn't hold back. Not only does your ex absolutely get his ass handed to him on the mat over and over again, but does it in front of his new girl and everyone else. How embarrassing. Doesn't exactly help that Kyle is on the sidelines talking so much shit that she begins to get the ick. I mean, could he not honestly win one match? Wonder what that says about a man who can't even hold his own? It even gets cringier when your ex tries to place the blame on the drills from yesterday with a certain Ghost.
Simon is already hard as a lieutenant. But add in the factor that the recruit he currently has running drills is the same recruit who hurt his favorite little nurse? The boy would be lucky to crawl out of there. The second an exercise or drill is not made to absolute perfection, Simon has him running it all over again. It almost
John is already starting the transfer papers the first time he catches your eyes the least bit misty. You don't have to see that rubbish and since the prick and slag couldn't have the decency to wait until he had broken up with you properly instead of telling you that even though he was with you, he had fallen for another woman, then they'll be sent to completely different units. John lists the reason for transfer as a liability. If they were so proud of their "love" before, let them keep that same energy.
And Kyle.... Sweet shit talkin' Kyle. Who plants seeds around the entire base. Nowhere are these two lovebird safe from judgment. All of the female recruits have ostracized their fellow female soldier while receiving lewd looks and calls from the males. I mean if she was easy enough to fuck a taken man, then she must be an easy lay. And here comes Kyle, telling your ex 'man-to-man' about seeing his girl with other officers. Kyle is the most gentle when it comes to the 141. But the motherfucker knows a thing or two about psychological warfare.
After your ex and the girl are suddenly, very mysteriously sent elsewhere, everyone starts flocking to you. Offering reassurances on what a bullet you dodged. How, from what they heard, they had broken up shortly after being relocated to separate bases. The boys see your confidence creep back in. Your smile is a little brighter. A little more pep in your step.
You wouldn't tell anyone how your ex had e-mailed you. Complaining about the new base. Explaining how he had ended things and just wanted you back. How he regretted ever letting her get to him, as if she were the only one at fault for kindling the relationship.
It also didn't help that a certain member of the 141 had come by your station, wondering if you wanted to grab a drink when you were off of your shift.
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#angst with a happy ending
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i'll keep you warm ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
pairing: jackson!abby x fem!reader
summary: you're in jackson with the salt lake crew, and tensions are high. losing herself in you on a cold night is the perfect way for abby to ease her pent-up worry and agitation.
cw: nsfw, porn with plot, soft dom!abby, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), boob touching/licking, tense and stressed abby, established relationship, semi-public (?), dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), fluff then smut, reader comforting abby. 3.1k
a/n: there's something about jackson abby... mmm. this is somehow both fluffy and smutty at the same time, which i didn't fully intend, but i think my adoration for her just slipped in lmao. also the longest and possibly filthiest thing i've written so far, soo do with that what you will. enjoy!!
The world outside was a snow globe, a swath of white blanketing towering pines. Dark had fallen, and the wind had started up again, blowing the thick flakes every which way and making it hard even to see the forest beyond. It looked frigid, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, grateful to be back inside. You were still tired from the journey over here, and it felt like the chill had settled deep into your bones, making everything ache dully. You wanted to be back in Seattle, back where it was familiar. Not this cold, lonely-feeling place—but you knew you were here for a reason.
And the sooner it was over and done with, the better.
You turned from the window when you heard the faint creak of the floorboards, and Abby rounded the corner, exhaustion written across her features. She was tense, had been ever since you’d left home; you could see it in the stiff way she moved, in the way she seemed distracted, often lost in thought. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and you could guess precisely where that was.
“You’re still up,” she said, slightly out of breath from coming in from outside. There was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hat, and her face was flushed from the cold. You thought she looked like an angel.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You watched her pull off her hat and begin shucking off her coat as she moved further into the room, eyes scanning you briefly as if to make sure you were okay. She was always doing that—always looking out for you even when there was nothing to worry about. It made your chest flicker with warmth. “It looks pretty bad out there.”
“Awful,” Abby confirmed. She ambled over to join you at the window. “Scoped out the area, though. The plan is to head down into the valley. I’m hoping it’ll get us somewhere, at least.”
“We’ll find him,” you said firmly, reassuringly, your voice hushed in the quiet of the room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and it was almost like it was just the two of you out here, in this lonely cabin. It felt intimate. You closed the remaining distance between you, resting a hand on her arm and rubbing it lightly. “We’ve come so far already. Try not to worry about it anymore until tomorrow, ‘kay?”
She puffed a small sigh, and after a pause she nodded, looking back at you. “Yeah,” she murmured. A soft look came into her eyes as she stared at your face for a long moment, gaze lingering over your features in a way that made you want to look away, unexpectedly shy. She brought a hand up to tuck a piece of your hair back behind your ear, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as she did.
You felt heat bloom across your face under her attention, at the tenderness of the touch. You breathed a quiet laugh. “What?”
“Just… glad you’re here.” Abby’s thumb skated across your cheekbone once more before slowly drawing back. She looked like she wanted to say more, but you felt all the meaning of the words, heart swelling in your chest. Before you could say anything, a shiver rippled through you, and her gaze dipped down to where you were clutching your sweater tightly around you. “Are you cold? I’ll get the fire going.”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to—” you started, but she was already halfway across the room, striding to the fireplace. She tossed a few logs in and then crouched down in front of it, using a piece of flint and steel to spark a flame. Truly, what had you done to deserve her?
Slowly, you made your way over to the old mattress you’d stationed before the hearth, where your sleeping bags were spread out. You sat, quietly watching her nurse the flames into a steadily blazing fire that filled the room with warmth. Immediately, you felt a bit better as the chill in your bones dissipated.
Your eyes traced over Abby as she worked, a somewhat faraway expression on her face as she stared into the flames. You made no effort to hide the way your gaze lingered indulgently on the veins in her hand as it gripped the fire poker, the flex of her biceps beneath her shirt. It wasn’t something you could help; your admiration for her never lessened, and you still felt a flush of awe each time you stopped to really look at her—which was, needless to say, often.
Still, though, seeing how high her nerves were sent a stab of worry and protectiveness in your gut. You knew how much this meant to her, avenging her father. It had been the sole thing driving her since his death, and now that she was finally so close, the tension and impatience radiating off of her was palpable. You wished you could take it away, carry the burden of it yourself—or, at the very least, ease it for awhile.
Abby set the poker aside and sat beside you on the mattress, grunting a bit with exhaustion as she lowered herself down beside you. She began unlacing her boots, glancing sidelong at you as she did. “Better now?”
You nodded, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. “Much better. Thank you,” you said quietly. When she had kicked her boots off, you closed the space between you, swinging a leg over her to settle in her lap. Your arms laced around her neck, and her hands came up to rest on your thighs instinctively, squeezing them lightly.
“I should be the one asking you if you need anything. You’ve had a long day.” You gave her a light, chaste kiss, and brushed the pad of your thumb over her soft bottom lip. “Are you hungry? I’ll go heat something up for you.”
“I’m fine. I had something before I left,” she told you, her hands rubbing against your thighs languidly. “Don’t worry about me.” She leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was deeper, tinged with yearning. You sighed into it, feeling her tongue run along your lip before dipping into your mouth to brush against yours.
When you pulled away, you looked at her earnestly. She was always downplaying her own needs, always insisted on being the one to cater to you. You loved it, of course, but you felt the need to take care of her, too, especially right now. “Let me make you some tea, then.” You made to get up, but her grip on your thighs tightened a bit, pulling you back down against her lap.
Wordlessly, she drew you into another kiss, tongue stroking into your mouth in a hungry way that made you groan. The pure need in it caught you off-guard, stirring the desire in the pit of your stomach so suddenly it was almost startling. “I don’t want tea,” she murmured against your lips when you broke apart for breath. The implications of the words were clear—it was something else that she wanted.
She kissed along your jaw before moving down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath as your head tilted a bit to the side, giving her easier access. It was your favourite spot to be kissed, instantly made you dissolve into putty, and she knew it.
Her hands trailed up your thighs and under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they slid over your bare skin. They were calloused and warm, her touch firm as it roamed higher, stopping just under your breasts. Then she tugged lightly at the hem of your shirt. “Take this off,” she ordered, voice firm but still achingly soft, her breath warm against your neck.
You complied almost instantly, the heat pooling south in your abdomen not making you inclined to oppose her. Reaching down, you pulled your sweater up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving your torso bare but for the lacy lilac bra that Abby loved so much on you. The heat of the crackling fire behind you warmed your exposed skin, keeping the chill from fully getting to you.
Abby pulled back to look at you, her gaze drinking you in as her hands wasted no time moving to undo the clasp of your bra. You could tell she was impatient for this, her eyes dark with lust, her breathing growing heavier as she unhooked your bra and slipped it down your arms a bit clumsily. It sent a sharp stab of desire through you, and suddenly you needed her hands on you, needed to feel them everywhere.
The bra came off, revealing your bare chest, nipples already hard and perky both from the chill and arousal. Abby’s big hands reached to cup them, squeezing them lightly, her thumbs rubbing over your sensitive buds. “So pretty, baby,” she breathed as she scattered kisses along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your collarbone. They trailed down to your chest, and then she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue licking and circling over the perky bud. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body arching into her.
“Abby,” you sighed, clutching at her shoulders as she continued nipping and sucking at your chest. The ache of need in your core was growing with every passing second. Even as you glanced nervously toward the dark hallway, your hips shifted against her thighs, seeking stimulation. “We shouldn’t. What if someone…?”
“They’re all asleep by now,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper as she pulled back to look at you. It was only a second before her hands were back on your tits, kneading them—it was safe to say that she couldn’t get enough of them. “But you’re gonna have to keep quiet, yeah? Think you can do that for me?”
You smirked a little at the teasing note in her tone. “I can manage,” you said, a bit shakily. It was clear, from the way you were squirming in her lap and on the verge of panting, that you needed this just as badly as she did. At this point, you were so aroused that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care much about the fact that you weren’t alone here, that your friends were just in the other room. Fuck it—you would just have to hope that nobody walked in.
Abby’s lips quirked up slightly, amused, as she fumbled to undo the button of your pants. She held your gaze as her hand slid past your waistband and between your thighs. You released a shaky breath as she cupped your heat through the soaked-through fabric of your panties.
“Fuck, look at you,” she groaned lowly as she slowly dragged her fingers over you through the thin fabric. “So wet for me already.”
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your hips rocked into her touch, desperate for more. You were already aching for her, and her voice, silky and breathless in a way that betrayed her own arousal, certainly wasn’t helping.
She began a slow rhythm, stroking you firmly in a way that had the pleasure climbing steadily. Her hand was angled just right, the heel of her palm pressing right into your clit, and you were fighting back whimpers as it sent shocks of heat through you. As she worked you, her lips found your neck once again, biting and sucking soft skin that would surely bruise tomorrow. You always pretended to be exasperated at having to hide the hickeys she gave you, but in truth, it sent a little thrill through you whenever you caught someone eyeing your neck, the proof that she’d been all over you.
Your head was bent against her shoulder, your faltering breaths and tiny sounds of pleasure muffled against her shirt as you angled your hips to grind your clit harder into her palm. It was getting harder to keep control of yourself, and as you felt the wave of heat begin to rise, your grip on Abby’s arm tightened. Her bicep was solid and muscled beneath your grip.
“Mmph—Abby,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut in barely contained pleasure. “M’not gonna last much longer.”
With those words, it was like her last bit of restraint snapped. Suddenly she was hoisting you up by your thighs, shifting you from her lap to the mattress and pushing you down beneath her with more force than you were expecting, a little “oof” puffing from your lips. She leaned over you and began tugging your pants and underwear down your legs eagerly, making quick work of them. You lifted your hips a bit to help her, and watched with hazy, half-lidded eyes as she got them off and tossed them aside before immediately starting on her own, shoving them down her hips.
It was nothing like the way things usually went between you; nothing like the times she would tease you, drawing out your need until you were practically begging her to fuck you, all while murmuring encouraging words in your ear. This was different—this was pure, carnal lust, itching desperation, and your entire body was burning with arousal at the rough way she was handling you.
You were whimpering with anticipation, your thighs almost trembling with it, in the few moments it took for Abby to get her own pants off. You were completely naked as you lay splayed out across the sleeping bags, but no longer felt the least bit cold, not when Abby covered your body with her own, those big arms braced on either side of your head and her weight pressing you into the mattress below.
She grasped one of your legs and hiked it up sharply as she straddled you, slotting your thighs together perfectly. When you came together, her slick heat sliding wetly against your own, you couldn’t hold back the moan that rasped from your throat as the pleasure slammed into you all at once. Abby muttered a curse in your ear, only pausing for a second to breathe heavily before beginning to move. She gave a firm rock of her hips, and then another, grinding her throbbing pussy against yours and wrenching more sweet moans out of you.
“Shhh,” Abby hushed softly after you uttered a particularly dirty sound that bordered on too loud, her breath warm against the side of your face. Her own breaths were faltering as she kept up her rhythm, not stopping for a second. “Gotta be—mph—quiet, baby. Said you would, remember?”
You bit your lip hard, making a controlled effort to reign in the sounds of pleasure that were threatening to escape at the feel of her rubbing up against your aching clit. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together and your combined panting was all that you could hear in the quiet of the room. Every so often, a low, strangled groan would rumble from Abby’s throat when she wasn’t able to stifle it, her jaw clenched, the space between her eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.
Each movement sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through you, and Abby’s pace was relentless. She let out a growl, her grip on your thigh tightening as she angled her hips to grind into you even harder. Her hips pushed you into the mattress, now thrusting into you with abandon.
“That’s it, fuck—so good for me, baby.” Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her face hovering close to yours as her eyes roved over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes were dropped shut, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. You were rocking up into her weakly, but you could hardly do much with all of Abby’s strength on top of you, controlling the movement.
“So pretty when I fuck you like this,” she huffed. “You like it, yeah? Like it when I fuck this pretty pussy? Fuck.”
You just managed a weak nod in response, unable to even grasp the thoughts to form words in the midst of what you were feeling. The tug of heat in your abdomen was pulsing stronger and stronger; you could feel yourself unraveling. Whimpers had started to spill out of you, your body tensing as you neared release.
“Gonna come? Gonna show me how fuckin’ good it feels, huh?” she panted roughly, moving faster as she saw that you were right on the precipice, mouth hung agape, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back. “C’mon, give it to me.”
When you came, your orgasm crashed into you so hard that Abby had to quickly cover your mouth with a hand to muffle the cry you let out as your body jerked underneath her. She moaned, seeing the intensity of your pleasure clearly driving her closer to the edge as well. “That’s my—haah—s’my good girl.” She uncovered your mouth again and watched it wash over you, the aftershocks rolling through you at Abby’s continued thrusts. A few moments later she grunted, and you felt her reach her own peak, her pussy clenching against you, her hips stuttering as she came.
Together, you came down from your high. Abby dropped your leg as she slowed to a stop, her body slumping forward slightly into you for a few moments as she panted into the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to rest your cheek against the side of her face, the sound of your heavy breaths mingling with hers. A small grin tugged at your lips as a wonderfully light and floaty feeling washed over you, and you ran your hands languidly over her muscled back, the slope of her shoulders.
Abby pressed a soft kiss to your skin before rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you, relaxing into it with a sigh. She was still catching her breath, her eyes closed, and you just stared at her for a few beats, glad to see the serene expression on her pretty face. You wished it could stay that way.
After getting up and slowly pulling your clothes back on, you settled beside her again. She looked at you, raising her arm up expectantly in a gesture that invited you to come closer.
“C’mere,” she murmured, and you did, nestling against her and resting your head on her chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of the pine soap she used, listened to the beating of her heart next to your ear. It was utterly quiet now, peaceful, and you began to give in to the call of sleep. You felt Abby’s light touch rubbing soothing circles against your torso, lulling your eyes closed.
“Love you." Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.
“Love you, Abs.”
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby tlou#tlou abby#abby anderson x fem reader#wlw fic#lesbian fic#abby anderson fic#the last of us#tlou x reader#tlou 2
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we know that Aemond can be very obsessive.
What if the hand of his little sister was given to a lord in exchange of an army but that happens when he killed Luke. When he came back to King’s Landing he heard the new from Aegon and goes into an furious anger
He threatened her future husband and maybe even end up killing him.
Blood and Vows
- Summary: While Aemond was at Strom's End, your family gave you away to Tyrell Lord in exchange for support of the Highgarden. But you were Aemond's, and only his.
- Paring: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen
- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Mature 18+
- Word count: 2 900+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
- A/N: I've changed the thing with future husband slaying a little. I think this fits better. I hope you don't mind.
The torches flicker along the narrow halls of the Red Keep as Aemond strides with purpose, his cloak billowing behind him, the faint scent of salt and sea clinging to his skin. The echo of his boots against the stone floors is the only sound accompanying him as he makes his way toward the council chambers, where his mother and grandsire await. The weight of what he has done hangs heavily upon him, yet he feels no regret, only a dark satisfaction that lingers in his chest. Luke is dead. But in the cold aftermath, another gnawing thought takes root—you. The one person whose absence has left a void he cannot ignore.
When he finally reaches the doors of the council chamber, the guards open them, revealing Alicent and Otto, both already seated and deep in conversation. Their eyes snap to him as he enters, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm as they take in his appearance—the dampness of his clothing, the exhaustion that lines his face, and the unmistakable tension in his jaw.
“Aemond,” Alicent’s voice is laced with concern as she stands, her hands trembling slightly. “What has happened?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, instead pacing to the center of the room, gathering his thoughts. How to tell them? How to make them understand that what he has done was necessary, that it was just? He looks at his mother, her eyes searching his, then to his grandsire, whose gaze is sharp and calculating, always weighing the advantages, the risks.
“It’s done,” Aemond finally says, his voice steady but cold. “Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”
Alicent gasps, her hand flying to her mouth as she stumbles back a step. Otto, though shocked, is quicker to recover, his mind already racing with the implications.
“By your hand?” Otto asks, though the answer is clear.
Aemond meets his grandsire’s gaze, unflinching. “Yes.”
The silence that follows is thick with tension, Alicent’s horror palpable in the air. She closes the distance between them, grasping Aemond’s arm as if to steady herself, as if to make sure he’s still there and not some ghost conjured by her fears.
“What have you done?” she whispers, her voice cracking. “You’ve started a war, Aemond.”
“There was already a war,” Aemond replies, his tone devoid of remorse. “I’ve only struck the first blow.”
Otto, ever the strategist, cuts in before Alicent can respond. “The boy was heir to Driftmark, and his death will provoke a retaliation we are not prepared for. We need allies—more than ever.”
Aemond barely hears him. His mind is already drifting elsewhere, to you, to the knowledge that you are far from him, being promised to another. The thought is like a blade twisting in his gut.
“I’ve ensured that the Greens will not be seen as weak,” Aemond continues, his voice darkening as he pushes past his mother, toward Otto. “But we must be prepared. Daemon will not let this go unanswered.”
“Indeed,” Otto mutters, his hand rubbing his chin in thought. “The timing could not be worse. At least your sister has already been promised to Lord Tyrell. The Reach’s support will be crucial when the storm inevitably comes.”
The mention of your name pulls Aemond’s attention sharply. His gaze snaps to Otto, and his heart pounds in his chest, the rage simmering beneath his calm exterior flaring dangerously.
“No.” The word is spoken softly, but it carries an unmistakable weight.
Otto’s eyes narrow slightly, the hint of a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Aemond, you understand the importance of this alliance. Your sister’s marriage to Lord Tyrell will secure—”
“She will not marry him,” Aemond interrupts, his voice low and filled with menace. “I will not allow it.”
“Aemond!” Alicent’s voice is frantic, pleading. “You cannot speak this way. It is already arranged—”
“Arrangements can be broken,” Aemond growls, his one eye blazing with a dangerous light. “She belongs here, with us. With me.”
The intensity of his words sends a chill through the room, and for a moment, even Otto is at a loss for words. Alicent’s hand trembles as she reaches out to her son, her voice a whisper now. “Aemond… she is your sister.”
“She is mine,” he hisses, his voice low and possessive. “Not some pawn to be traded for power. I will bring her back. I will make sure of it.”
Alicent’s eyes fill with tears, and she looks to Otto for support, but Otto remains silent, calculating, weighing the balance of power that is ever shifting. He knows Aemond, knows the fire that burns in him, and realizes that to challenge him now would be to ignite that fire into something uncontrollable.
“Aemond,” Otto finally says, carefully choosing his words. “You must be careful. The decisions you make now could determine the future of this realm.”
“The future is already determined,” Aemond replies coldly, turning on his heel to leave. “I will bring her back. And woe to anyone who stands in my way.”
As he exits the room, his heart is set. There is no power in this world that can keep you from him. You are his blood, his fire, and he will see to it that you are where you belong—by his side, bound to him as tightly as dragon and rider.
Aemond mounts Vhagar that night, the storm in his heart mirroring the one that brews on the horizon. Highgarden may be far, but for Aemond Targaryen, no distance is too great, no obstacle too daunting. He will have you back, and not even the gods themselves will stand in his way.
The night air is sharp as Vhagar soars above the clouds, her massive wings beating rhythmically as she slices through the sky. The stars are scattered like silver dust across the dark expanse, and below, the world is nothing but a distant shadow. The wind rushes past you, cold and biting, but you feel none of it. Your focus is entirely on your destination—Highgarden, where you are waiting, unaware of the storm that is about to descend upon you.
Aemond’s grip tightens on Vhagar’s reins as he leans forward, urging the ancient dragon to go faster. Every beat of her wings carries him closer to you, and every moment that passes without you by his side is a moment too long. The image of you haunts his mind, more vivid than any memory. He sees you as you were the last time he laid eyes upon you, your features softened by the firelight, your eyes shining with a warmth that you never quite showed to anyone else, not even to him.
But he saw it—felt it. That warmth was meant for him, only him. The thought of you being offered to another, of you standing before some lord of the Reach, promising yourself to a man who is not him, fills him with a fury that threatens to consume him. You are his sister, yes, but more than that, you are his. The very idea that you could be taken from him, that you could be used as a pawn in this game of thrones, is unbearable.
The wind howls louder as Vhagar dips lower, closer to the earth. The landscape below becomes clearer—the rivers, the hills, the forests that stretch on for miles. Aemond’s thoughts drift to the conversations he had overheard, the whispers in the corridors of the Red Keep, the plans that had been laid out without his knowledge. They had decided your fate as if you were nothing more than a chess piece to be moved at their whim. His mother, his grandsire—they thought they were securing an alliance, strengthening the Greens’ position in the war that loomed on the horizon.
But they were wrong. They had miscalculated. You were not a piece to be played with. You were a Targaryen, born of fire and blood, and you belonged to him. Aemond’s heart pounds in his chest as he thinks of how it must have felt for you, to be sent away to Highgarden, to be kept away from the family, from him. Did you feel abandoned? Did you think he had forgotten you, that he had let them send you off without a second thought?
The thought gnaws at him, a festering wound. He had always been there for you, had always protected you, even when others sought to control your fate. And now, when you needed him most, he had been miles away, lost in the chaos of war and duty. But no longer. He would not let anyone—his grandsire, his mother, not even the King himself—decide what was to become of you. That was his right alone.
As the dark silhouette of Highgarden comes into view on the horizon, Aemond’s heart races with a wild intensity. Vhagar lets out a deep, resonant growl, sensing the anticipation in her rider. The sprawling fortress, with its high walls and lush gardens, is a beacon in the night, but to Aemond, it is nothing more than a cage that holds you captive.
He thinks of you again, wondering if you’re awake, if you feel his approach, if your thoughts are with him as his are with you. The bond between you has always been strong, stronger than anyone could understand. Even when you were children, you had always been drawn to each other, a connection that went beyond mere blood. It was as if you were two halves of the same soul, destined to be together, to complete each other.
The idea of you marrying another, of giving yourself to another man, fills him with a possessiveness that borders on madness. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else touching you, holding you, claiming you. You are his, and he will make sure the world knows it.
As Vhagar circles Highgarden, Aemond’s thoughts become clearer, sharper. He will take you back, and he will do whatever it takes to ensure that you are never taken from him again. The Reach may offer its armies, its loyalty, but it will do so on his terms, not because they have taken you from him.
With a final command, Vhagar descends, her massive form casting a shadow over the land below. Aemond’s pulse quickens as he imagines your face when you see him, when you realize that he has come for you. He pictures the relief, the joy that will light up your eyes when you understand that he will never let you go.
As he prepares to land, his mind is filled with only one thought, one burning desire—to have you by his side, where you belong. And this time, no one will stand between you and him. You are his, and soon, the world will know it.
The ground trembles as Vhagar lands just outside the walls of Highgarden, her massive wings folding against her sides with a rush of air. The sound reverberates through the night, startling the guards and servants of the Tyrell household who have never seen a dragon so close. They scatter like leaves in the wind, their fear palpable as Aemond dismounts, his dark cloak swirling around him like a storm. His mind is set, his purpose clear. You will leave this place with him, and nothing—not even the Lord of Highgarden—will stand in his way.
He strides toward the castle, his steps purposeful, each one echoing with the cold determination that grips him. The great doors to Highgarden open before him, revealing a grand hall bathed in candlelight. The Tyrell banners hang from the walls, their golden roses a stark contrast to the fire and blood that courses through Aemond’s veins.
At the far end of the hall stands Lord Tyrell, a man of considerable girth and wealth, though neither his stature nor his riches can save him now. He watches Aemond’s approach with a mixture of unease and defiance, his gaze flicking nervously to the massive shadow of Vhagar that looms just beyond the doors.
“You’ve come a long way, Prince Aemond,” Lord Tyrell says, his voice trying—and failing—to sound cordial. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Aemond’s eye narrows, his gaze cutting through the lord like a blade. “Where is she?”
Lord Tyrell’s composure falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, straightening his shoulders. “Your sister is under my protection, as per the arrangements made by the Crown. She is to marry my son in due course, as we agreed. The union will—”
“Where is she?” Aemond’s voice is sharp, filled with a dangerous edge that silences the room. The air grows thick with tension as the threat in his words becomes clear.
Lord Tyrell’s face pales slightly, and he hesitates before nodding to a servant, who quickly rushes out of the hall to fetch you. Aemond waits, his gaze never leaving the lord who dares to think he can keep you from him.
“You must understand, Prince Aemond,” Lord Tyrell begins, his tone now laced with a hint of desperation, “this marriage was arranged for the good of the realm. It will bring the Reach’s strength to your cause, solidify—”
Aemond takes a step forward, his presence menacing, his eye blazing with a fury that makes the lord take an involuntary step back. “The only thing this marriage will bring is your death if you do not return her to me now.”
The words hang in the air, the weight of them suffocating. Lord Tyrell’s face blanches completely as he realizes that Aemond is not here to negotiate or to parley. He is here to take what is his.
Before the lord can respond, you are brought into the hall, flanked by two servants. Your eyes widen as you see Aemond standing there, his expression one of fierce determination. Relief washes over you, mixed with fear for what might happen next.
“Aemond,” you breathe, taking a hesitant step toward him.
In two strides, he closes the distance between you, his hand reaching out to take yours, pulling you to him as if to assure himself that you are real, that you are safe. His grip is firm, possessive, and the moment his fingers entwine with yours, you feel the undeniable truth of his words—he is here to take you away, to claim you as his own.
“This is madness,” Lord Tyrell stammers, his voice shaking now. “She is betrothed to my son. You cannot simply take her—”
“She was never yours to give,” Aemond snaps, his voice low and dangerous. “She is mine.”
With those words, the last vestiges of Lord Tyrell’s composure crumble. “This is treason! You cannot—”
But Aemond has heard enough. His free hand moves with the swiftness of a serpent, and before anyone can react, his sword is drawn and buried deep in Lord Tyrell’s chest. The lord gasps, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he collapses to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. The hall is silent, save for the dying man’s gurgling breaths, and the eyes of every witness are fixed on Aemond, none daring to move, to speak, to challenge the dragon prince who stands before them.
You stare at the fallen lord, your heart pounding in your chest, but when you look up at Aemond, his expression is unreadable, his focus entirely on you.
He sheathes his sword, and with a voice that is as cold as ice, he speaks to the room. “Anyone who wishes to dispute my claim on my sister, speak now.”
No one moves. No one speaks. Fear grips them all as they realize that to oppose Aemond Targaryen is to invite death upon themselves. And with Vhagar just outside, there is no doubt that the prince’s wrath would be swift and unforgiving.
Aemond turns to you, his eye softening just slightly, though the intensity of his gaze remains. “We’re leaving,” he says, his voice gentler now, meant only for you. “You’re coming with me.”
You nod, unable to find the words, but knowing that there is no other choice. You’ve always known that Aemond would come for you, that he would never let anyone take you away from him. And now, as you stand beside him, the reality of his promise is clearer than ever.
He leads you out of the hall, his hand still gripping yours, guiding you back to where Vhagar waits. The great dragon lowers her head as you approach, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. Aemond helps you mount, his hands firm but gentle as they guide you into the saddle before he takes his place behind you.
As Vhagar rises into the sky, Aemond’s arms wrap around you, holding you close. You can feel the steady beat of his heart against your back, the warmth of his body shielding you from the cold night air. His voice, when he speaks, is low and filled with a fierce determination.
“We will be married,” he vows, his breath warm against your ear. “No one will take you from me again.”
You close your eyes, letting the wind whip through your hair as Vhagar carries you both far from Highgarden, far from the reach of anyone who might try to come between you. And in that moment, you know that Aemond’s promise is one that will never be broken.
He is your brother, your protector, your everything—and he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side.
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x female reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen
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SECOND CHANCE PT.2
Request are open! Request rules here!
Part. 1, Part. 2
Pairing: Obito x reader x Kakashi
Summary: Obito, after surviving the war was allowed back into the village. You made it your mission to make sure he gets completely rehabilitated. However, a certain someone gets jealous at the loss of attention.
Warning: mentions of blood, slight violence.
A/N: Finally the long awaited part. 2 has come out! I really focused on making this a better chapter than the first one, and was written a little less rushed. I really enjoy how I've developed the story, and I hope you guys do too! Thank you so much for all of your support, and I hope you enjoy! (Also I reread this a few times but there still might be a few mistakes here and there, sorry!!)
The atmosphere was oppressive and thick, the heavy rain showing no signs of ceasing as you trudged forward on the muddy path. Your two students followed close behind you, tired and worn out after so much non-stop walking. Their feet got stuck in the thick mud, feeling heavy and wet as it stuck to their shoes and weighed them down relentlessly. Yet you seemed restless and preoccupied—a far-off look on your face that they had never seen before. It suggested that your mind had wandered elsewhere; somewhere far from where the mission demanded it to be.
Toko’s voice had been the one breaking your train of thought for only a moment, his words carrying a hint of concern as he spoke. “Sensei, it’s been hours—the weather isn’t getting any better, and we can barely see through this fog. We should take shelter,” he suggested tiredly, noticing that you were already a fair distance ahead of them.
“Seek shelter where, idiot? We’re stranded—stuck in the middle of nowhere, this damn rain isn’t doing us any favors, and we can barely see anyone who might be standing a good few feet away from us. You’re just wishing that we get ambushed by rogue ninjas, aren’t you?” Kenji blurts out irritably, his mood further battered by the horrible weather. He hated being tired—more than he already was. However, despite the bickering, you didn’t slow down. It seems as if you hadn’t even heard their small exchange, which they noticed immediately. Has something happened? You hadn’t muttered a word since you left the village—so something was obviously wrong with their teacher who showed this uncharacteristic behavior.
Toko quickened his pace, catching up to you and running in front of you, forcing you to halt before you could collide with him. “Sensei?” He called out to you, concern evident on his expression as he scanned your face.
“Huh?” You blink, “What are you doing? We still have a long way to go, we need to keep moving,” you reply as you look at your map. It was… drenched and torn in some places, making it difficult to make out its content. Nonetheless, you refused to stop now, despite the mist obscuring your path and vision.
As if things couldn’t possibly get worse, it began thundering, prompting all the three of you to look up at the gray sky. The fact that the weather wouldn’t improve any time soon had you release an annoyed sigh, leading you to fold your damp map and stuff it inside your pocket. Toko’s facial expression seemed to relax slightly, a glimmer of relief evident on his face. “So,” you exclaim, arms crossing over your chest as your eyes fixed on the dark haired boy standing before you. “What do you propose we do—better yet, where do you suggest we stay?”
“Well, I’ve seen a few lamps here and there—fences as well. So we aren’t in a completely secluded area,” he observes, scanning his surroundings, only to find gray mist obstructing his vision. “So, you want to stray from the path to find a shelter?” you ask once more, rubbing your throbbing head with the palm of your hand. “We couldn’t possibly be near a place to stay, we’re—,”
“Look, right there,” Kenji suddenly pointed in another direction. As both you and Toko shifted your attention towards the direction pointed, you saw a faint glow cutting through the dense fog. You were cautious at first, hesitating and wondering if it was worth pursuing. For all you knew, it might be someone following you. However, as you closed the distance between the light and the three of you, a small cabin surrounded by low wooden fences came into view. They seemed more decorative than practical, in all honesty, considering their height made them ineffective to keep anyone out.
“Be careful,” you caution your students as you approach the door. The thunder was getting worse, so if whatever—or whoever stayed here had the heart to give refuge to three Konoha shinobi, you’d deeply appreciate it.
You firmly knock on the door—the cabin’s exterior is made out of the same dark-hued wood, while the roof was constructed from heavy metal. You heard shuffling from the inside, and finally, the door opened. An elderly lady, short and plump, gazed up at you, a hint of concern falling onto her features as she noticed your weary state. “Oh dear,” she mutters in concern as she examines all three of you. You were drenched and covered in mud, in need of assistance. In other words, you looked horrible and helpless. With one glance at your headband, she instantly recognizes the familiar leaf symbol, her eyes darting to your face as though she’d seen you before.
“I’m sorry to bother ma’am,” you begin, your voice laced with the chill of the cold weather, your cheeks cold and red, “But would you be willing to provide us refuge until the weather gets any better?” the lady gazes downwards, contemplating your request before nodding in agreement. She opens the door wider, signaling for you and your students to enter. She certainly wouldn’t like being outside in this weather. “Come, come. Hurry,” she beckons, her hospitality reaching you.
You, Toko, and Kenji step inside hurriedly, muddy shoes leaving messy footprints on the floor, turning the wood into a mess. You looked down at your mess, opening your mouth to apologize, but the elderly lady swiftly reassures you. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean it up later,” She takes the heavy bags from your back, placing them near the fireplace to dry. “You must be freezing, I’ll get you some nice, warm clothes and—,”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you begin, waving your hands in front of you, “You don’t have to go through the trouble—,”
“Oh shush, this is no trouble at all, dear,” she reassures you as she disappears into another room, briefly leaving the three of you standing awkwardly at the door as you wait. You take the initiative to remove your dirty shoes, before glancing at your students tentatively. “Take your shoes off,” you swiftly say, considering it impolite to wear shoes indoors. They comply, placing them at the doorway where yours were placed neatly, “I’m guessing this two day mission is going to take a little longer than expected,” Toko complains, only straightening up when he sees the lady coming back carrying some nice traditional-looking robes.
“Here, these will fit perfectly. You two are about the same size as my grandsons,” she smiles, pinching Toko’s cheek affectionately and handing him the robe, repeating her actions with Kenji, causing him to become a little flustered.
“And this is for you,” she kindly hands you a robe in a deep shade of purple, “This was my daughter’s, but it hasn’t been in use in a long time,” Grateful for her actions, you take the piece of clothing and bow respectfully, showing your deep gratitude, “Thank you, I appreciate this a lot ma’am. How can I ever repay you—,” you start, only to be interrupted by the lady.
“Don't be silly, dear. There’s no need for that,” she smiles, patting your cheek while dismissing your offer of repayment. “Come, I’ll show you where you can get changed into these warm clothes,” she guides you three down the hallways of her home, leading the boys to a room, while you are taken to another. “Here you are,” she smiles, opening the door for you. “I’ll prepare some soup for you, make yourself at home,” she closes the door behind you, leaving you to change into the clothes she had provided you with.
The room was empty, with clear signs that someone had previously lived there before your intrusion. Photographs of a young woman and a few more family members decorated the walls, making you slightly uncomfortable at the thought that you were intruding on a family home. However, you pushed the thoughts away as you began peeling off your soaked clothes.
‘Just know that I’m sorry’
Kakashi’s words still echoed softly through your head like a faint lullaby. ‘I should’ve said something’ you thought, releasing a heavy sigh you had been holding in you ever since you left the village. A pang of regret tugged at you as you sat on the edge of the bed, draped in the silk robes that fit you like a glove. ‘He apologized and I didn’t even say anything,’ you rub your temple, your head throbbing in pain. It was a constant companion since you’d left the village, and now It seemed that you finally had time to dwell on the events that occurred these past few weeks. Now that you were away from both Obito and Kakashi, there was space to think clearly, undisturbed by their presence.
Your heart squeezed at the thought of Kakashi—a bright blush staining your cheeks. He had confessed his feelings for you—Kakashi Hatake—the man whom everyone believed would remain lonely throughout the remainder of his life. The man that never seemed to fall for anyone. He let himself become vulnerable for you, a side of him you had never witnessed, and you had shut him out. You gently smack yourself on the cheek, reprimanding yourself for your actions, “I’m such an idiot,” you murmur. You had potentially ruined a once-in-a-lifetime relationship with the man you had feelings for! You’ve liked this man for years, and you rejected him—technically rejected him—over a man who you barely knew.
In that moment, you realized the fault in your actions. You had been blinded by a foolish crush that you failed to recognize the differences between the two men. Kakashi was right, Obito wasn’t the same boy he once was. He was a man who had altered ideals, someone bent on reshaping reality as he pleased. He was a broken man that changed all throughout those lonesome years. You didn’t know him; you had a painted image of who he could possibly be. In contrast, your relationship with Kakashi was built with shared experiences and vulnerabilities. You two taught together, fought together, cried together. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable state and you’ve seen him in his. And that’s what you pushed aside? For someone who could be considered a stranger? Because Obito had not cried with you, had not fought with you, had not been there for you when you were hurt. All you knew about Obito was what he wanted you to know. You knew what he told you. You knew what you saw.
You rubbed your temple, attempting to dispel the thoughts from running your mind. Dwelling on them would only amplify the growing stress you had. There was no point in thinking about this now, considering how the mission demanded your full attention. Finally standing up, you opened the sliding door and stepped out, hearing the faint voices coming from the direction you had come from before. They were your students. The floorboards creaked under your feet as you approached them, their heads turning towards you when you finally got there. They had been sitting down on the floor at the table—waiting for something, you assumed.
“Hey sensei,” Toko grins, “Take a look at these,” He stands up and shows off his clothing, “They fit perfectly,” he strikes a pose, ultimately leading to Kenji pulling him down to sit, “Sit down and be quiet will you? (Y/N) sensei already looks tired enough for you to wear her out any more,” he rolls his eyes as Toko began to protest, “What’s your deal Kenji, I’m trying to show off these cool robes!” he exclaims, plopping down cross-legged, sulking playfully.
You can’t help but let out a chuckle at their banter, taking a moment to glance around the cabin, “They look fine,”you say, and as you gazed at the home, you noticed the lady was inside of what you assumed to be the kitchen. You approach the table and sit down, getting comfortable on the small cushion that was beneath you.
“Say, how’s Obito? I haven’t heard from him in a while,” Toko questions, leaning back and putting all his weight on his hands. The question makes you gaze up at him, and you shrug, “He’s been fine. He just hasn’t gone out lately. He’s used to being indoors all the time, so I don't blame him for always wanting to stay in the house,” Toko groans, pouting, “Oh man, I really wanna see him again. He’s so cool,” he says, straightening up, “Even if he was part of what happened… you know,” he adds, referring to the war, while glancing down at his legs, “I think he just needed someone to talk to,”
You observe Toko with soft eyes, watching how he spoke so empathetically. The boy has always had a gentle heart, sometimes too gentle. His empathy towards others was part of who he was. “I think so too,” you nod slowly in agreement while giving him a smile, Kenji looking away moments after, “It’s sad, you know?” Kenji mumbles, suddenly fixated on the floorboards as he tried to find the right words, “I remember what he said during the war. His reasons for the infinite Tsukuyomi,” he frowns, continuing “A person can be so lonely to the point where they need to distort reality,”
Your eyes fell on his expression, noticing the deep sadness etched on his face. “I understand why he did it,” he whispers, sighing and shrugging his shoulders, “But you know, it doesn’t mean what he did was okay,” You nod in agreement when he says this, replying “However, we shouldn’t focus on the past. Sure, it’s important to know what he did, but what matters is that he accepted change,” you smile warmly, “And he is willing to take another chance at life,”
“As he should, he would’ve been an awesome sensei,” Toko grins, making you playfully raise a brow at him, “Now hold on a second Toko, you’re not liking him better than me, are you?” you ask as you lean forward to look at him, making him shake his head furiously, “No! Of course not!” he chuckles nervously, his eyes darting around the room before insisting “You’ll always be the best teacher,” a soft hum of contentment escapes you, pleased with his answer.
“Alrighty kids, supper is ready,” the elderly lady suddenly approached the table with a gentle smile, carrying a heavy-looking metal pot brimming with soup. The smell was absolutely enticing, leaving you with a rumbling stomach and great anticipation. Toko eagerly rises, offering his assistance, “Let me help you,” he says, carefully taking the steaming pot and setting it down on the table, “Oh, thank you dear, could you be so kind and help me with the bowls as well?” She asks and without a moment’s hesitation, he nods and strides towards the kitchen to look for the wooden bowls she had pointed him to.
“I hope you like the soup, it’s my special recipe,” the old lady smiles as Toko sets down the bowls. She diligently pours the warm, flavorful broth into each bowl, her smile growing. “This was my grandsons’ favorite meal. They would beg for me to cook them some soup late at night,” a hearty chuckle escapes her, “Dig in,”
All three of you exchange glances before turning your attention towards the lady, sincere gratitude etched on each of your faces, “Thank you for this wonderful meal,” you express your appreciation, giving respect for her before digging in. All of you begin to eat, and the moment the warm liquid envelopes your tongue, your soul leaves your body. You had never tasted soup this good.
Toko’s eyes light up at the taste as well, “Oh man, this is amazing!” he exclaims and sips down the warm soup savagely, causing Kenji to snarl and smack Toko on the back of his head, scowling at him, “Stop eating like a pig,” he snarls, making Toko glare at him. “I’m not! You’re just so used to eating like a little prince, you don’t know what enjoying a delicious meal actually looks like,” he argues, setting the bowl down. They once again started bickering, which made your brow twitch in annoyance. They seemed to never stop bickering, not even when they’re tired. “You better stop it before I knock some sense into both of you,” you warned, making them stop momentarily, exchanging glares before they continue eating.
You exhale deeply, shifting your gaze down to the soup in front of you. The lady sits across from you, her warm presence a comforting sight. “Thank you so much for taking us in, and I’m sorry about the boys and their bickering. I promise they’re better behaved than this” you thanked her, bowing your head in appreciation. “If it weren’t for you ma’am, we would’ve been freezing out there,”
“It’s nothing, my dear,” she reassures you, her hands gently wrapping around a clay mug filled with steaming tea, “I could never leave you out there. Not when you’re from the leaf village,” Her statement hangs in the air as she takes a slow sip of her tea before examining your face intently. “Huh?” you respond, furrowing your brows in curiosity at what she means. The lady chuckles at your reaction before she sets the mug down.
“My husband was a leaf ninja, such a nice man he was. May he rest in peace,” she places a hand on her chest, “I welcome Ninja from anywhere. I help anyone who needs it,” she looks at you as her gaze softens, “And you certainly needed it,”
You chuckle sheepishly, humbled by her kindness, “Well regardless, I appreciate what you’ve done for us,” The lady waves her hand, “No need to thank me,”
After the meal, the atmosphere in the room relaxes as Toko and Kenji seem to die down. The persistent harsh weather outside was still going, and it was clearly draining their energy. The lady offered them a room so they could sleep in, and they immediately accepted her offer. They bid you goodnight and went to bed, leaving you sitting on the floor. The old lady was recounting to you some of her life stories, and you politely listened to her. You were glad, because it kept your mind away from Kakashi and Obito.
“You know, I didn’t know if it was really you, but now that I see you up close, it’s definitely you,” the lady smiles widely, making you raise a brow, “What?” you ask and the lady gives you a nod, “I know you. I saw you when you were just a little teen,” she pours you a warm cup of tea, “You had been wounded, and a young boy brought you here,”
You listened intently as she recounted the story, a puzzling frown decorating your face. You never recalled being here, even though you have gone to the mist village before, “I’m… sorry? I don’t recall that happening…,” you respond, meeting her gaze with uncertainty as she shook her head, “Well of course not, you were unconscious. The boy had brought you here because you needed medical attention. Nothing bad happened to you, just a few cuts here and there, but you were exhausted and fell unconscious,” the statement lingered in the air for a few seconds before you spoke up.
“So you’re saying you saved my life before? Who was the boy?”
“A silver haired boy, with a mask. Such a sweet boy. He never let go of your hand while I patched you up,” she chuckles, “He was very worried about you,”
A flicker of realization crossed your face as the lady’s description reminded you of Kakashi. The memory of an old mission to the Mist village surfaced in your mind. You recalled the long and exhausting battle that led to your loss of consciousness. However, when you had awakened, you were already in the Konoha hospital. Kakashi had carried you all the way there, and you had been left with only hazy fragments of what happened.
“So that’s…” a grateful smile tugs at your lips, “I never got to thank you,”
“Don’t worry, the boy had already thanked me enough,” she grins, “Do you still speak to that young man? Because a boy like that would’ve had me swooning,” your cheeks flushed at her comment, the corner of her lips raised in a smirk as she awaited your reply, “We still talk, but it’s nothing like that,” you clear your throat, “Well that’s just a waste,” she huffs in feigned disappointment, “You young people and your complicated feelings,”
“We just aren’t… well, we haven’t talked about it,” your cheeks flared with embarrassment as the conversation shifted to your love life. You found it pitiful that you were speaking about this with a woman you just met. But hey, they say old people know better than younglings, and you could definitely use some wisdom and understanding from someone like her. “Is that so? Then there must be another man in the picture,” shock flickered across your features as your eyes widened. Was she some sort of witch or something? How’d she know?
“Oh don’t look at me like that, I’ve lived in this world long enough to know what’s going on,” she laughs, “So, who’s the other man,”
“I uh… well…,” you sigh, looking at your hands, “This boy you mentioned, the silver haired boy, he and another boy were friends. I was friends with them too. We would’ve grown up together, but… things happened and the other boy and I… drifted apart,” you explain, trying to be as specific as possible without giving too much detail.
“Then what’s the hard choice?” the woman inquired, her brow raised in curiosity as she tried to understand your situation, “Well, me and the silver haired boy drifted apart as well, but when I became a teacher, we kinda began speaking a lot again. Then the other boy came back into my life, and now the silver haired man is starting to drift apart from me again,” you explained yourself, but in all honesty, you were barely making any sense.
“Drift away this, drift away that,” the woman rolls her eyes, her voice previously laced with sarcasm. “Honey, what you’re saying is making no sense at all,” she shakes her head “So, let me ask you,” she leans in, her eyes locking with yours to find pure honesty, “Who has been there for you the most?”
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, reflecting deeply on her question. You wanted to be honest with your response, not wanting to inadvertently deceive her. “Well… Kakashi,” you spoke after a few moments of contemplation, your voice soft but earnest. The name left your lips with a certain vulnerability, a mix of emotions attached to it.
The amused glint in the woman's eyes made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, “I don’t know who Kakahsi is, dear,” she teased playfully.
You quickly corrected yourself, “The silver haired boy,”
“Then what’s the point of liking the other boy, if the person who has always been with you should be your first choice,” you look down and at your hands, absorbed in her words “I didn’t waste any time. When my husband saved my life, I made sure I married him,” she hums and slowly stands up, “But, it is your choice. What does an old lady like myself know anyways?” she shrugs with a smile, “You should get some rest, you still haven’t completed your mission, and you’ll need all that energy for tomorrow”
Obito peered at the ninja standing in front of him, sizing them up with a thoughtful gaze. He paused for a brief moment before clearing his throat and responding, "A summoning? Urgent?" A glint of curiosity flickered in his eyes as he feigned nonchalance. "I’m guessing this must be really important then?" he mused, noticing the confused expressions on the faces of the ninjas before him. "Naturally, given the Hokage's busy schedule, any meeting he initiates is bound to be of utmost importance," the men responded, avoiding any unnecessary conversation.
Obito sighed, stepping outside and addressing the ninja with a hint of irritation, "Very well, let's not keep your precious Hokage waiting any longer," Despite his attempt to conceal his feelings, a tinge of bitterness laced his voice. He wasn't apprehensive or troubled; he was simply curious. After so long without exchanging words, what could be so important that the Hokage had summoned him in such haste? It was suspicious to him. Nonetheless, he followed the men closely, "Any idea why he would want to see me all of a sudden?" His question was met with pure silence.
Obito walked quietly, his eyes taking in the changes that had swept over the village since his absence. New buildings had appeared, old shops had vanished, and even the places he used to visit with Kakashi and Rin were nowhere to be found. The realization of all he had missed out on weighed heavily on him. As the Hokage building loomed into view, he looked up at the window where he suspected Kakashi might be, feeling the weight of his gaze boring into him. Climbing the stairs and reaching the Hokage's door, the ninja escorting him left him there all by himself.
Obito's eyes closed for a moment as he readied himself for the impending encounter. With a firm pull, he opened the door, his gaze falling upon the silver-haired man who stood by the window, engrossed in thought and clutching a stack of paperwork. Something within Obito stirred the moment his gaze fixated upon that white Hokage robe that Kakashi wore, a pang of realization hitting him. Kakashi was living the dream that Obito had envisioned for himself, or at least what his dreams had been before life took unexpected turns. Turns he took by his own resolve.
Obito stood there, his voice carrying a hint of statement rather than question. "You called for me," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Kakashi to turn his attention towards him. With a deliberate motion, Kakashi set the papers he held onto his desk before sliding into his seat and replying, “Yes, we need to talk,”
Obito crossed his arms defiantly and stood a few feet away from Kakashi's desk, the silence between them weighed down by his sardonic tone. "Well I assumed so," he replied, his sarcasm hanging heavily in the air. "I suppose you didn’t just summon me here to jump rope," there was a moment of silence once he spoke, Kakashi’s eyes burning into him.
"I'd appreciate it if you could reserve your sarcasm for a later occasion." Kakashi responded with a weary sigh, his annoyance evident as he spoke. Frustration was etched on his face, a clear indication of the stress and irritation he was experiencing.
Obito uncrossed his arms in a display of carelessness, his gaze shifting away from Kakashi. “Yeah, whatever,” There was a moment of impatient silence as he waited for Kakashi to speak, fidgeting and shuffling on his feet expectantly.
Kakashi paused briefly, his gaze skimming over several reports scattered on his desk. With a glance raised towards Obito, his eyes met his, "As I was saying," he continued, "I've observed that your interactions with (Y/N) have yielded positive results. Her reports on you have been consistently favorable, and your acts of kindness towards others in the village haven't gone unnoticed." He paused once more, briefly glancing back down at the reports before returning his gaze to Obito.
It was remarkable how much the human body could endure, Kakashi thought to himself. Obito’s own body bore testament to that—scarred, battered, and permanently marked from the aftermath of war. Tsunade, in her medical prowess, had managed to restore parts of his body using his own cells, but the scars that had ingrained themselves on his skin stayed, indomitable, a constant reminder of his battles.
Obito's gaze traveled from the bookshelf to Kakashi, his stomach flipping at the revelation that you had been speaking highly of him. It filled him with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that his efforts had not gone unnoticed. Despite his own self-doubt, the knowledge that you found improvement within him gave him a sense of validation and contentment.
Kakashi's tone turned more serious as he continued, "Based on (Y/N)'s reports and my trust in her words, I've decided to offer you a position within the Anbu. You'll work under my direct supervision," he stated, his gaze remaining steady, anticipating a look of surprise on Obito's face.
Just as stated, Obito's expression twisted into a bewildered frown as the words left Kakashi's mouth. "You must be joking," he exclaimed, his disbelief evident. He was aware of his own capabilities, but the suddenness of this offer left him taken aback. The idea seemed ludicrous, especially since some within the village still harbored distrust towards him. Was Kakashi truly expecting him to become his personal assassin?
"You want me to become one of your assassin dogs?" He let out scoff, disbelief evident in his tone. "I thought the purpose of rehabilitating me was to prevent me from harming anyone else, given what I've already done," He paused, his expression filled with skepticism.
Kakashi leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. He observed Obito intently, "Yes," he acknowledged, "But I've had a change of mind. You possess the potential for greatness," he said, a hint of conviction in his voice. He paused for a moment before continuing, "It might even be beneficial for you. It'll keep you occupied, you'll earn your own income, and you'll get to experience the life of a shinobi once again," Kakashi explained, his gaze never leaving Obito.
Obito stared at Kakashi in shock, trying to process his words before speaking again, “What are you trying to say?”
Kakashi's tone remained firm and authoritative as he clarified his words. "What I'm trying to say is that by joining the Anbu, you'll earn my trust and secure yourself a decent position within the village. To be clear, I'm not asking for your permission. It's not a request," he reiterated, emphasizing the gravity of his demand.
“Right, you’re demanding I join,” Obito’s lip curls up in a slight snarl.
"You're free to refuse my offer, of course," Kakashi said in a condescending tone. "But doing so will deem you untrustworthy," he continued, his gaze fixed on Obito. "Keep in mind that you're here because I allow it. You're not exactly in a position to say no to anything I propose," he affirmed.
Obito's eye widened momentarily as a bitter chuckle threatened to escape his lips. It was a stark reminder that he was at Kakashi's mercy, alive only because the Hokage allowed it. The feeling of being bound and controlled by someone else's authority was not something he had yet forgotten. With a forced smile, he finally responded, "Ah, how could I ever forget," his voice was dripping with sarcasm and resignation.
“Glad to know you wouldn’t,” Kakashi smiled beneath his mask, his eye forming a crescent moon shape in response to Obito's sarcastic remark. He pulled out a bag from under his desk, revealing a familiar grayish-black uniform neatly folded inside. With a steady hand, he placed it on top of the desk. Next, Kakashi pulled out another object, a pristine white porcelain mask, molded into the shape of a bird. Obito recognized it as an Anbu mask; he had seen them before, or rather, he had once worn one alongside Itachi. Yet, the eeriness of this particular mask sent a chill down his spine.
Instead of the usual frown associated with the animal masks, this one possessed a unique feature: the red lines that adorned it curved upwards into a sinister smile, stretching nearly from ear to ear. The expression seemed far from natural, as if it was designed for intimidation rather than mere concealment. Furthermore, there was only one eye hole, while the other side was veiled and painted red, where his left eye should have been.
"So, you've been planning this for a while," Obito remarked, his tone containing a hint of sarcasm. "I'm assuming you don't have a spare Anbu mask with only one eye hole," Obito observed, causing Kakashi to chuckle. "I suppose so,"
Obito accepted the mask and uniform, his gaze fixated on the plastic bag as if he was contemplating the decision. However, deep down, he knew he had no choice in the matter. As if to add to the already less-than-ideal news, Kakashi spoke up again, "With this new job, you'll have to move out of (Y/N)'s house." He paused before continuing, "No one can know your identity as an Anbu member. Only a select few will be privileged enough to be privy to that information, and (Y/N) will not be among them."
Obito started to open his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by Kakashi's silencing gesture, his words cutting him off before he could speak. "I've already found a nice apartment for you, temporarily," Kakashi informed him, "You'll move out of her house while she's on her mission. That gives you about two to three days, maybe four if things get complicated and they get delayed due to the bad weather." Obito stayed quiet, considering the situation, realizing the reality: he had little choice in the matter. To further solidify his point, Kakashi added a crucial detail, a small nudge that might persuade Obito to comply. Depending on how Obito perceived it, it could either be seen as a subtle manipulation or merely a necessary precaution. "And just to be clear," Kakashi began, his voice firm but not unkind. "The primary reason why you're moving out is to protect (Y/N). You've shown a clear concern for her well-being, and to ensure nothing happens to her, she must remain ignorant of your new role in the Anbu."
"And what does that have to do with me moving out?" Obito asked, his tone laced with hesitation. Kakashi chuckled at his question, "Think about it," he replied, his eyes fixed on the dark haired man. "If word gets out about your identity, and they learn you're living with a woman, she'll instantly become a prime target for other dangerous ninjas." He paused, shrugging his shoulders. "Unless, of course, you want her to end up as rogue ninja bait. Whatever case it is, I suggest you start packing."
Obito's frustration bubbled up inside him, his lips pressing tightly together. He shouldn't feel this way; after all, he was simply moving out. Yet, a pang of disappointment and unease tugged at his heart. He'd lived with you since he returned to the village, and there was no denying that you'd positively influenced him. Your presence had helped him transform in unforeseen ways. He felt comfortable with you, like an old friend. You didn't hold anything against him, only offering care and compassion.
With a resigned sigh, Obito accepted the situation. No point in arguing further. After all, it's not like he wouldn't get to see you anymore. Sure, maybe he'd be busy with his new Anbu duties, but there was no way he'd be swamped 24/7, right? "Fine, I'll move out and join your assassin club. It’s not like I haven’t killed thousands before anyway," he mutters, his arms tensing as he tries to quell the burning feeling in his chest. A nagging anxiety crept inside him, "Is there anything else you'd like to say before I leave?"
Kakashi's brows furrowed, "Just remember that my main intention is to safeguard the village," he said, his voice steady. "You have immense potential that shouldn't be wasted, so try not to hold these circumstances too deeply against me," he added, his expression almost complimentary.
"Are you trying to flatter me?" Obito almost laughed in amusement, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. "You, of all people, dishing out compliments? I never saw that coming." He observed Kakashi's hands as they lowered to his lap with a cold stare, Kakashi's response following quickly, "Take it however you want. Ultimately, I'm making decisions that benefit the village. That's all that matters."
With a slight sense of defeat, Obito picked up the bag containing his new uniform. He couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle as he held it in his hands. This wasn't the life he'd envisioned for himself as a child, nor was he thrilled to be stepping back into the role of an assassin. But the past couldn't be changed, and here he was. He finally tore his gaze away from the uniform and posed his question, "So, when do I start?"
“I’ll give you your first assignment once you’ve moved out. Come to my office and I’ll present to you your new comrades,”
It was the morning after the storm had passed, and the sky was clear and the sun shone brightly, almost as if there had been no storm the day before. Despite the sunlight, though, the path was still damp and muddy, causing Toko to grumble and complain again. Before leaving, the old lady had packed some meals, bandages, and medical herbs for you and the boys, insisting that you take them. "You don't have to—" you started to protest, only to be cut off by her firm and gentle nudge.
"Oh, hush now," she insisted, continuing to pack your belongings. She filled your bags with supplies, making sure you were well-prepared. "It never hurts to be prepared," she added with a smile. "You don't know when you might need them." As you prepared to set off, the old lady stood in the doorway and waved you a warm goodbye, her expression filled with motherly affection.
Toko waved enthusiastically, a wide grin on his face. "Bye, granny!" he exclaimed, eagerly walking behind you. "I like her," he continued, his voice filled with cheerfulness. "She's just like my grandma." Kenji, who seemed well-rested, walked beside Toko, his expression one of contentment. However, it was suddenly cut short when Toko continued his loud ramblings.
"Keep it down, will you? It's too early for this racket." Kenji grumbled, his tone weary. He shoved his hands into his pockets, obviously not quite fully awake yet. Toko was ready to respond, but your intervention cut him off. "Let's keep the squabbling to a minimum," you advised, peering at the map in your hands with a frown. "We're about to enter dangerous territory, so let's stay focused." You mention, furrowing your brows as you tried to make out the direction you were supposed to head towards. “There’s so many paths… but not a single one connects to the city…,”
Toko's curiosity got the better of him as he peeked over your shoulder, his head tilted to the side as his gaze darted across the map. Confusion etched on his face as he examined the symbols and drawings that adorned the scroll. "Why bother with a map if it won't even guide you to where you need to go?" he questioned, genuinely baffled.
"It's a hidden village, idiot," Kenji interrupted with an exasperated sigh. "If the village was easily found on a map, it would defeat the purpose of being 'hidden.'" He rolled his eyes, continuing his explanation. "They've been kind enough to give us a basic layout of where they are located, so it's better than having nothing at all." You added with a sigh.
Toko opened his mouth to retort, but you quickly hushed him, lowering the map and bringing the group to a halt. You had walked for a good amount of time, and the old lady's house had long vanished from sight. Time had passed faster than you realized, and now you stood before a colossal forest, its towering trees casting a shadowy canopy over the path ahead. As you observed the towering trees that loomed overhead, a nervous churning settled in your stomach. There was an inexplicable unease that gnawed at your senses, even though no foreign chakra presences threatened you at the moment. Perhaps it was the imposing shadows cast by the trees, or the dense mist that engulfed the forest, which left you feeling queasy. Whatever the cause, the feeling was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
As you struggle with the inexplicable feeling, Toko's voice breaks the silence, tinged with concern. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder and asks, "Are you okay, sensei?" With a forced composure, you respond, "I'm fine, we have to go through here,” You take a deep breath, attempting to ease your tensed shoulders. "We should be cautious," you advise, your voice steady as you speak. "There's likely to be traps. We won't be able to see much inside either, so we need to focus." Your hand tightens around the straps of your bag, a comforting reassurance against the uncertainty that lies ahead. “If anything happens, leave your bags and evacuate. If you manage to split up, use paper bombs to find each other. If you can’t find me, leave me behind and forget the mission—,”
“You know we’re not going to do that, sensei,” Toko cuts you off with unwavering worry.
"It's not a request. This is an order. You will follow my instructions, understand?" Your eyes narrow as you address him. "You're both Chunin now, but don't overestimate yourselves. You have limits, and you need to know them." You take a moment to gather yourself, steadying your breath and grip on your kunai. Despite being well-rested, your body felt heavy, and a cloudiness lingered in your mind, despite your attempts to stay focused. "Let's move,"
As you journeyed deeper into the forest, the path became increasingly obscured, shrouded in a dense gray mist that blanketed the ground. Seeing no other option, you curse under your breath, peering up at the towering trees that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. "Dammit," you muttered. "Looks like I'll have to climb up there and see if we can find a way out of this forest." With a decisive movement, you buckled your bag tightly on your back, ensuring it was secure before preparing to scale the trees. “I’ll be quick, so you two stay where you are,”
Toko adjusted the straps of his bag, nodding earnestly in agreement. "No worries, sensei," he chimed in, his eyes fixed on you with a confident smile. "We'll keep a watchful eye out for anything suspicious." With a silent understanding between them, Kenji bobbed his head in agreement. The boys had observed your uneasiness since leaving Konoha, and they were trying to ease it. A glimmer of relief washed over you as their reassurance eased the tension in your shoulders, even if just momentarily. You centered your chakra in your feet, preparing to scale the towering trees before you. Sensing that reaching the top of the trees would take you at least five minutes, you mentally steeled yourself to be as swift and efficient as possible.
Despite your best efforts to maintain focus, the unsettling feeling in your stomach persisted, growing more intense with every passing moment. Not being a sensory ninja, you questioned the source of this unease, attributing it to your stress. Was it the conversation that you had with the lady back at the cabin that was making you nervous? Or maybe you were becoming paranoid with each passing second thanks to this mission. As you immerse yourself in your thoughts, your footing falters, and your foot slips on the bark of the tree. You would’ve fallen down, but thankfully your chakra was strong enough to maintain your weight. However, the extra weight of your bag pulled you downward, and a sense of panic surged through you. In a desperate attempt to regain balance, you hastily let your bag fall off your shoulders as you propelled yourself forward, managing to regain your position on the tree trunk once more. The unexpected scare left you panting, your breath coming in ragged gasps. A cold sweat trickled down your forehead as adrenaline coursed through your burning veins. That was a close one, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself out. There was a slight delay, and then the loud thump of your bag hitting the ground echoed through the air, reverberating through the forest.
Craning your neck to look over your shoulder, your eyes widened as the dense mist obscured any view of the ground below. The realization of your position set in, and the thought of plummeting headfirst down to that unseen abyss sent a shiver down your spine. "What the hell is wrong with me?" you muttered under your breath, swallowing the lump of saliva that had accumulated in your mouth. A pang of worry laced your thoughts as you hoped the boys wouldn't panic upon seeing your bag fall.
Climbing the rest of the way up with a moment of hesitation, you finally reached the top of the tree. As you placed your foot on top, a soothing breeze greeted your face, caressing your nose and playfully tousling your hair. The view was breathtaking, a vast expanse of trees stretching as far as the eye could see. Amidst this forest kingdom, your gaze snagged on something significant. "There you are," you murmured as you spotted what you had been searching for.
Toko and Kenji waited anxiously, their backs resting against the trees as they watched you vanish into the distance. After a few minutes, Toko's restlessness got the better of him, and he started fidgeting with his gloves, stealing glances upwards in search of your descent. He turned to face Kenji, who was immersed in his book, and voiced his concern, "Do you think she's alright?"
"She might take a while," Kenji responded calmly, casting a brief glance upwards before returning his attention to his book. "This isn't exactly a small forest. Stop worrying so much." He paused for effect, then added, "It's only been about five minutes, anyway."
Toko let out a sigh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, maybe I’m worrying too much." He sat down cross-legged on the ground, leaning back on his arms. A lighthearted chuckle escaped his lips as he continued, "I have no idea how you—," His sentence was interrupted by the abrupt sound of something hitting the ground beside them. The unexpected thump caused Toko to jump, his senses alarmed. In a swift motion, Kenji had already tucked away his book and drew his kunai, ready for whatever lay ahead.
Kenji turned to Toko, concern etched on his face, "Toko, you okay?" He asked, searching their surroundings for the source of the sound. Their minds raced with paranoia, convinced that they were being followed and watched. Toko patted himself down, readying his own weapons as he replied, "Yeah, I'm good." Together, they carefully approached the direction they thought the sound had originated from, weapons ready, prepared for whatever danger might await them.
They came to an abrupt halt as they reached the spot and laid eyes on the heavy bag, its contents scattered on the ground. "It's Sensei's bag," Toko exclaimed, lowering his shuriken and rushing toward it.
"She dropped it?" Kenji muttered, his gaze darting skyward in the hopes of seeing you descending from the treetop. However, Toko was unconvinced. "Dropped? That doesn't make sense. Something must have happened," he says, already retracing his steps towards the tree you had initially climbed. Dropping his own bag, he prepared to ascend the tree so he could look for you.
"She probably dropped it because of its weight," Kenji reasoned, attempting to calm Toko's growing concern, "Maybe it was weighing her down the farther she went." He grabbed Toko's arm and pulled him away from the tree, "Let's wait a little longer. She told us to wait."
"We can't wait!" Toko protested, his voice filled with urgency. "What if someone got to her up there?"
"Then we would have seen her body dropping. Toko, there are so many other reasons why she would have dropped her bag. You're being dramatic." He attempted to reason, only to have his hand slapped away by Toko.
"Dramatic? No, I'm concerned for her safety!" he retorted, frustration evident in his voice. "You're the one who doesn't seem to care! You never care about anything!" He jabbed an accusing finger at Kenji, his tone laced with anger. Frustration ignited within Kenji as he clicked his tongue at the harsh accusations coming from his friend, "Of course I care, but I also use common sense."
"Common sense my ass," Toko snapped, "You're the last one to talk about common sense." The shift in Toko's tone was familiar territory for Kenji. The implications of his words were clear, a biting jab at something they both knew very well.
"Don't you dare bring that up," Toko warned, his voice a low, sharp hiss. Both of them knew exactly where the conversation was heading, a topic that had been avoided for a long time, but the memories and feelings still lingered fresh in their minds.
“You know exactly what happened, so stop blaming me for everything,” he snarls at his friend, obviously bothered by the matter.
“I blame you because you were stubborn. You think you’re the smartest, strongest ninja out here, and that’s why she died,” Toko argued, turning around to face him fully.
“I didn’t think any of that. You were a coward and you stepped back. We needed that mission more—”
"What we needed was to go back and get help!" Toko’s voice escalated into a yell, frustration reaching a boiling point as he pushed at Kenji. "Don't you dare put your hands on me," Kenji shot back, his own frustration rising. But Toko, fueled by anger and past memories, paid no heed to his warning.
"You left us behind and went on your own, just because you thought you could do anything without us," Toko seethed, grabbing Kenji by the collar. "I would've left, but she was worried for you.” His voice trembled with anger and grief. "And we went back. And she died because you couldn't let go of your pride and forget the mission," the words hung heavy in the air, their impact as potent as a physical blow. That’s why Kenji didn’t think about his actions. He couldn’t, not when he was being accused of something so serious.
Toko's body connected with the ground, his cheek inflamed and stinging from the impact. He looked up to see Kenji towering over him, fist clenched tight. "You bastard," Toko spat, pushing himself up off the ground with a surge of anger. He lunged forward, tackling Kenji to the ground, and his fist shot forward, aiming for his friend's face. However, Kenji was quick to react, pushing Toko off and pulling out a kunai in the blink of an eye.
The situation escalated, and the sight of the drawn weapon and the intent to harm each other fueled the conflict. Toko saw it as a direct threat to his life, and drew his own kunai. They both launched forwards with only one intent in mind; to hurt each other. However, as the two boys were about to clash, a pair of strong hands intervened, seizing their wrists and squeezing them hard enough to make them release their weapons in a swift motion.
Your voice echoed through the clearing, filled with disbelief and anger. "What the hell is wrong with you two, huh? What were you thinkin?!" You shoved them away, making them stumble onto the dirt. Your eyes darted between them, their heads lowered in shame, attempting to avoid your piercing glare. "You guys never turn on each other, do you understand me?!" The anger in your tone was evident, a boiling cauldron of frustration and disappointment at what they were doing. Your hurt and disappointment were palpable as the memories of your past resurfaced. The uneasy sense of déjà vu weighed heavily on your heart. After receiving no response from them, you spoke again, your voice firm and demanding, "I asked you something, so you better answer me!"
"Yes ma’am," Kenji responded, his voice obedient yet filled with tension. He stood up, grabbing his arm as his head remained bowed. Toko's response came next, the venom in his eyes directed at Kenji. "Whatever," he responded bitterly, wiping the blood that dripped from his nose. His gaze never wavered, filled with a potent mix of hatred, anger, and spite. Your hands came up to rub your face, attempting to ease the headache that formed. "I taught you to never betray each other. I hope this is the first and last time you two ever pull out your weapons on each other,”
"Maybe he should learn to keep his hands to himself." Toko retaliated, but your head whipped around, your eyes locking onto his. "And maybe you should learn how to forgive," you retorted, the words cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "I heard your argument, I know what this is about. I heard everything as I was coming down. Her death was no one’s fault" Your eyes trailed down his face, watching as his expression twisted in pain. "It doesn't seem that way," he finally said, grabbing his bag and harsly pushing past Kenji, who was still staring at the ground.
Kenji's hands were clenched tight, his fingernails digging into his skin and his knuckles turning a pale white. You could sense the tension in his body, recognizing the need for a conversation on this matter. You knew deep down that the underlying issues had to be addressed once you returned home. All of you had been avoiding it ever since it happened, and you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it. However, there was still a mission waiting to be completed, and you would have to push aside the issue once more.
“We’ll speak about this when we get back, for now, just focus on the mission,” you say, grabbing the kunais that were on the ground, “I found out where we have to go,”
The trek towards the destination proceeded awkwardly, each step taken in complete silence. The atmosphere was thick with tension, making it feel nearly impossible to breathe. Hours ticked by without a word being uttered between any of you, none of you sure of what to say. It was then that you settled on waiting until you reached the village to address the situation. You felt it was best to hold off on any conversations until you were in the safety and comfort of your own home, knowing the pressure on them would only grow if you brought it up now. Your sole focus was on the mission at hand. As long as you kept your mind free from any distractions, everything would go smoothly. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself in hopes of managing your anxiety. You observed the boys walking alongside you, their eyes avoiding each other like magnets repelling the same pole. They seemed immersed in their own thoughts, perhaps consumed by anger and regret. The scene reminded you of Obito and Kakashi, and your heart ached slightly as the memory of your friends surfaced once again.You had made a silent promise to yourself that your students would never turn against each other like Obito did to Kakashi. Yet, the events that had just unfolded had planted seeds of doubt in your mind about what the future held in store for them. The thought of your students becoming ensnared in a cycle of hatred filled you with dread and fear.
Your body felt weighed down once again, but not due to the muddy terrain. This time, it was the weight of worry that was resting on your shoulders. It was as if you were being physically held back by the embodiment of anxiety. Yet, despite the weight, you also inexplicably felt a sense of lightness. The suppressed emotions you harbored were taking a toll on your physical self, causing you to silently curse at your own vulnerability. As their teacher and mentor, you were meant to inspire them to forge forward. You were supposed to set an example, yet here you were, feeling crushed beneath the weight of your own worries. Doubts clawed at you, making you question if you were truly fit to be their sensei. You were acutely aware of your previous failures, of your imperfections. Now, you found yourself failing them yet again, berating yourself for not taking action when you could have. You should have addressed the incident and spoken to them, but you held your tongue. The unresolved tensions and bottled-up emotions continued to fester between your students while you tried avoiding ever mentioning anything. Your eyes remained fixated on the path, and your legs moved mechanically, even though you were unaware of your surroundings. It was as if you were caught in a trance, your mind stuck in deep reflections while your body went through the motions. It wasn’t until the giant gates of the Hidden Mist Village emerged before your eyes that you finally snapped out of your contemplative daze. The guards stood vigilantly at the gates, their masked faces intently focused on you and your students. Their weapons were raised in anticipation, their gaze unwavering. It was only then, as their intense stares met your eyes, that your body snapped back into reality. The haze of your thoughts lifted, and your mind cleared, becoming acutely aware of the moment.
Your arms slowly raised, palms facing the guards to signal that you meant no harm. Your feet remained firmly planted on the ground as you addressed the guards with a firm tone. "We're from the Hidden Leaf Village," you explained, "We were called for an important mission. We've heard reports of rogue ninjas terrorizing your village. We're here to assist your people." Your voice was crisp and precise, making your purpose abundantly clear. "Please," you reiterated firmly, "If you need more information, let me approach so I can present the mission scroll." The guards exchanged glances again, before one of them finally stepped forward. It was the captain, you assumed, and his hand reached out, silently asking for the mission scroll.
Without wasting another moment, you reached into your pouch, quickly retrieving the scroll and placing it in the waiting hand of the captain. You waited patiently as he perused the scroll, making sure that you posed no threat to them. Your eyes darted back to Toko and Kenji, who stood behind you, their heads downcast and avoiding eye contact.
"You may come through. We have been waiting for your arrival." With a deep voice, the captain’s words reverberated through the air. He then gestured for you to follow, leading the way into the village. Initially, you didn't notice how empty the streets were, until you walked past a nearby hospital. The sight of numerous civilians lying pale and ill on the floor caught your attention in an instant, and the scene unfolding before you was nothing short of horrific. Nurses were overwhelmed, tending to the massive number of ill patients who had filled the entire hospital and were now flooding the streets. The people lying on the floor appeared deathly ill, their bodies wasting away as the nurses fought desperately to keep them alive. The sight was eerie and heart-wrenching, sending chills down your spine. However, you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from the patients, which didn’t go unnoticed by the captain.
"They're all dying," the guard stated matter-of-factly, his gaze fixed forward as if refusing to acknowledge the suffering of the people around him. "All because of poison," he added with a callousness that sent a chill down your spine. Your eyes then fell upon an elderly man who was writhing in agony, his leg profusely bleeding and contorting in ways that defied the limits of the human body. He was wounded, a large gash the shape of a large blade tainted his weak leg. His wound appeared to be decaying, yet fresh blood continued to flow from it, a stark contrast to the slow decay. As your eyes locked with the elderly man's pleading gaze, he muttered a desperate "help us" before you averted your eyes and shut them tightly. Your body trembled at the sight, the suffering of the people weighing heavily on your heart. "And there's no cure for it," the captain’s words echoed in your mind, causing your eyes to open in disbelief. Slowly, you walked past the hospital, your senses still reeling from the stark reality you had just witnessed. A few people could be seen making their way towards the hospital, but beyond that, the village seemed eerily deserted once more.
“No cure? Then all those people….”
The captain's voice was raw and frustrated as he clenched his spear tightly, “All my people will die in vain,” he exclaimed, his anger noticeable. "We've always dealt with similar cases, but after being repeatedly attacked by those damn rogue ninjas, the number of incidents has tripled over the past few months. I can feel it in my bones – they're to blame for this, but I can't prove it, because we’ve never caught them" the captain continued, the helplessness in his tone was obvious.
With furrowed brows, you looked at the captain, "Do you have any information on them?". It was difficult for you to fathom how anyone could be so cruel as to slowly torment and kill an entire village of innocent people.
The captain exhaled a deep sigh, his expression heavy with disappointment, "I wish I had something of value to tell you, but the truth is, I don't," He paused, his voice carrying a sense of helplessness, "We've only spotted cloaked figures breaking in and harming innocent civilians, and anyone wounded in those attacks always end up the same – poisoned and rotting." Frustration tinged his voice as he continued, "We don't know where they come from or why they're doing this. We don't even know how they create that poison they use." You understood how he felt—you understood the helplessness of not being able to protect someone, in his case, everyone.
"I appreciate that information, sir. In situations like this, any information is helpful. Rest assured, we will do our utmost to protect your people. The safety of your village is our top priority." The captain didn't meet your gaze as you spoke, and you could sense his struggle to believe it. Given the countless lives lost, it was almost impossible for him to harbor hope that the nightmare would end. Toko and Kenji stood beside you, their faces betraying a mix of horror and sympathy for the village. Toko, in particular, fidgeted nervously, his uneasiness evident. The weight of the situation was becoming more real and pressing with every passing moment.
"It'll be alright, Toko," you offered a faint smile, trying to provide reassurance. Meanwhile, the captain continued his instructions. "Make sure you avoid getting hit by their weapons. From what the doctors have reported, every patient who’s ended up in the hospital has been stabbed or cut by those ninjas. It seems they carry poisoned knives of some kind. If they even scratch you, you'll find yourself dead," he warned gravely. You couldn't quite determine if the captain's intentions were to scare you or if he was genuinely worried for your safety, but regardless, you nodded in response. "We will be careful,"
The captain led you to the highest point in the village, situated atop a hill on the outskirts. This vantage point would serve as your watchtower for the remainder of the day, with an unobstructed view of the entire town below. You knew you had to remain vigilant, ready to take action at the first sign of trouble. With a resolve to put an end to the suffering of the villagers, you silently vowed to complete your mission as efficiently as possible.
"You will stay here. This vantage point offers a perfect view of the village. I wish you the best of luck, to all three of you. May you emerge victorious and save our people." The man then bowed his head in respect, but you caught a glimpse of his eyes beneath his mask. They were dark, as if the light of hope had been extinguished from within them. He had witnessed the grim reality of the situation time and time again, and his eyes seemed to convey the belief that at least some of you would not survive this ordeal. Countless Jonin from other villages had faced the same grim outcome. They had come, fought valiantly, yet ultimately succumbed to their fate. The captain's eyes reflected the weight of past failures, and yet, within him, there lingered a faint hope—a slender thread of fate that perhaps you and your students would defy the odds and succeed. He desperately yearned for it, hoping that you would put an end to the suffering that had ravaged his village.
You observed as the captain descended the hill, your face contorted in a frown. The pain and despair you had glimpsed in his eyes continued to haunt your thoughts, making it difficult to fully focus on anything else. It wasn't until the captain was completely out of sight that your mind finally caught up, and you turned your attention towards the boys, who had already taken a seat on the ground, their gazes wandering around the barren hill that offered nothing but patches of grass and a few scattered rocks. They were still silent, and you quickly noticed the somber expression on Toko's face and attempted to provide reassurance. "We'll help them," you stated firmly, placing all the bags together and double-checking your weapons to ensure you were ready for any situation. "And we'll be okay,"
"Even if we capture those ninjas, what will happen to all those people who are already poisoned?" Toko, who had not spoken a single word during your time here, finally spoke. His voice trembled, void of the earlier excitement that had filled his words before. Your gaze shifted towards the village, taking in the unsettling sight of deserted streets—a haunting portrayal of the misery and despair that had ensnared these people.
"They'll die. There's nothing we can do for them except avenge them. They will die in peace, knowing that no one else will get hurt." There was no room for debate or argument. Toko accepted your words without protest, a clear indication that the emotional toll of the events had left him exhausted. Kenji sat quietly nearby, leaned against a rock, listening intently to your exchange. In a rare display of positivity, Kenji spoke up, "Maybe our medical ninjas can find a cure for them," His words stood in stark contrast to his usual stoicism and pessimism, and you couldn't help but appreciate the glimmer of optimism. However, Toko's frown remained unchanged, and he paid no heed to Kenji's statement.
"Maybe so, Kenji," you replied with a faint smile, slowly standing up to keep watch. Silence blanketed the area once more as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, transforming the city into a canvas illuminated by the street lamps. The translucent mist began to form, casting an eerily beautiful yet ominous veil over the surroundings. Minutes turned into hours as you, Toko, and Kenji took turns observing the village, looking for any signs of unusual activity in the silent and deserted town. The sky was obscured by thick gray clouds, concealing the moon's silvery glow and blocking any natural light from filtering through. The temperature had dropped significantly as well, and you had been shuddering all night long, your cheeks reddened from the biting cold. From the corner of your eye, you could see Toko and Kenji also shivering, the winter chill seeping into their bones and making them restless.
"You boys okay?" Your aching feet, throbbing from standing for so long and prompted you to speak up as your voice echoed through the silent night. The idea of standing for the entire night seemed both physically draining and unnecessary, considering the uncertainty of whether the rogue ninjas would even make an appearance tonight. Who knew if they would even show up? Doubt began creeping into your mind as you considered the slim chances of any action occurring in the next few hours.
“I’m fine,” Kenji answers, his head body leaned against an uncomfortable rock, “Just uncomfortable,”
"You're not supposed to feel comfortable," Toko retorted, finally speaking to Kenji after hours of icy silence. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood, relax," Kenji responded with a frustrated huff, his body straightening up as he shot a glare at Toko, who sat a few feet away from him. “Funny, you never try to lighten the mood but now you’re suddenly caring if it’s tense or not,”
“Boys, stop it,” you warn before things got heated, “It’s not the time or place to argue,”
“Oh please, when is it ever the time or place?” Your eyes widen at the sudden hostility towards you, making Kenji stand up to your defense. “Don’t talk to her like that, asshole,” he warns, his voice dripping with a venom you had never heard before as he made his way towards Toko in a threatening manner, “Or what? You’re going to hit me again?”
“Stop it you two!” you exclaimed, quickly standing up and forcefully pushing them apart, “You need to stop this bullshit, or else all three of us will go down. Is that what you want? You want to put us in danger?” your voice was stern and authoritative, trying to paint a clear message for the both of them. Your eyes flicker back and forth between them, searching for at least an ounce of shame on both their faces. However, Toko simply let out a loud scoff, backing away while his eyes sent a scorching glare at Kenji. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned on us,” he accused, his expression turning bitter once Kenji’s body tensed. “What the hell is your problem? I’m suddenly the bad guy here?”
“You always were,”
Their argument was about to continue despite all your attempts to alleviate the situation, but the sudden sharp and horrific scream of a woman that pierced through the cold and silent night caught you off guard. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when the scream echoed through the night, and the boys were quick to gather at the edge of the hill beside you. Your eyes scanned the darkened town, searching for an explanation or a culprit, catching a glimpse of four cloaked figures jumping out of one of the townsfolk’s windows. Their backs were adorned with toll rods, a knife at the end of each one gleaming ominously in the shadows below. You assumed it was their weapons as one was tainted crimson red—Blood. “It’s them,” your voice hardened, and without any hesitation, you jumped down from the hill, your students quickly following behind you. Your presence had been figured by the ninjas as they immediately split up and darted in different directions. Instead of attacking you, they decided to avoid you, as if their attention was focused on something else. Something more important. “Alright,” you stop your tracks on top of one of the rooftops, memorizing the directions the ninja went, “We’ll go for the one up north first—,”
“I’ll go for the one on the right,” Toko exclaims in impulsive haste, giving you no time to react nor respond as he sprinted into the deep night. Anger bubbled up in your chest, making you curse, “Dammit! Toko! Come back here!” you called out, but he was already out of sight. “Shit, go after him Kenji, I’ll take care of the other two. Don’t get cut. Be careful,” the boy nods his head, muttering a soft “You too,” before vanishing into the shadows, leaving you all by yourself. You shook your worries away and began jumping over the rooftops towards the direction two of the ninjas had gone, and thankfully, they hadn’t gotten too far. They had soon made their way into your line of vision, and you swiftly followed behind them. They were under you, running through the paths of the village as you followed on the rooftops.
They were faster than you expected, and your breath came out as ragged gasps as you sprinted after them. There was no way you were going to catch them like this. They knew the village. They knew where to run to. They knew every corner and curve, as if they had done this thousands of times. “Shit,” you cursed under your breath, continuing to jump from roof to roof as you followed both cloaked figures. As you followed them, you reached for the pouch on your vest, pulling out a few paper bombs. ‘You’ve got this,’ you reassure yourself as you gain enough speed to jump down on top of one the figures. Your fingers swiftly stick the bombs onto its back, and you push yourself off and away from it. The cloaked figure reacted instantaneously, reaching for its weapon and swiftly swinging it at you, the knife-tipped rod a deadly threat. You felt the slightest brush of air as the weapon narrowly missed you, just barely avoiding a serious cut. Before the blade could do any harm, the paper bomb detonated, sparing you from injury. The ensuing blast sent you staggering backward, your feet struggling to maintain balance in the aftermath. As the smoke dispersed, you surveyed the scene, expecting to find the slumped body of the rogue ninja. However, to your surprise, nothing remained except an empty spot. Has it been a clone all this time?
‘Crack’
A wave of shock flashed across your face, your reflexes pushing you backwards just in time to avoid the figure that plummeted onto the spot you had recently occupied. Once again, the weapon-wielding figure narrowly missed you, your luck holding strong, "Who the hell are you, and why are you doing this?" Spinning the kunai skillfully around your finger, you clenched the handle tightly as you waited for an answer.
The mysterious figure stood mute, shaking its head as it spoke in a low, distorted voice. "Stay out of my way, and you shall not get hurt," it warned. Confusion gripped you, as you found yourself unable to determine the figure's gender from their concealed features. As you scrutinized more closely, you glimpsed what appeared to be a mask under the expanse of their large straw hat, further obscuring their identity.
Your determined eyes locked onto the mysterious figure, "I'm not letting you guys terrorize this village any longer," you hissed. As your mind briefly wondered about the whereabouts of the second figure, you remained vigilant, refusing to let your guard drop. "You have no idea what this village has done," it pauses for a brief moment. "Please, just be on your way. You have nothing to do with this. I do not want to hurt you, but if you get in my way, you will end up just like them." It trained its weapon on you. “I am sparing you and the young men, leave, or seal your fate this very moment,”
“I don’t need your mercy,” you glare at him and take out your shuriken, “I’m not letting you kill these people,”
"Then you shall die like the rest of them," suddenly, the second figure reappeared, delivering a powerful kick to your abdomen, sending you sprawling against the wall. Your head hit the bricks and snapped back, leaving you unconscious for a few fleeting seconds. As you slowly regained yourself, your eyes snapped open just in time to avoid another attack. With a well-aimed kick, you connected solidly with the figure's head, causing it to stumble as it tried to extract its weapon from the ground. Without hesitating, you took its own weapon and jammed it into its stomach, making sure the blade pierced its muscle deeply. However, as you gripped the handle tightly and pushed it even further, the figure turned into some sort of liquid that melted away under your feet. “A clone?!”
As you glanced back, your confusion grew as the person you had been speaking to appeared a few feet away from you, now charging towards you with an additional rod in hand. The blade swung past you multiple times, trimming some stray strands of hair caught in its path. You swiftly dodged and ducked, sweeping your leg across the ground to knock its legs out from under it. It briefly stumbled but quickly caught itself, and before you could react, it attempted to swing its weapon at you once more.
With lightning reflexes, you grabbed the rod, yanking it toward you as you discarded your previous weapon. A firm kick to its stomach sent it stumbling backwards. As the rod slipped from its hands, you firmly held onto it, a hint of superiority in your voice. "You're nothing without your weapon, aren't you?" you taunted, hurling it to the side, out of reach for both of you along with the other.
"You have no idea what you are doing," it said, rising from the ground. It locked your wrist in a firm grip, and you fought for control. "You think you are doing good, but you are only defending horrible people," it continued, its strength surprising you as it began to push your arms downwards. "Everything you do now will be in vain," it taunted. "They will die, and so will you." With immense strength, you managed to break free, swinging your kunai at its neck. To your surprise, it lifted his hand, allowing the blade to pierce through its palm with no reaction.
"Your students will perish because of your decisions," it sneered. "You could have turned away from all of this, yet you chose to blindly follow your foolish orders," it continued. A powerful kick to your stomach sent you stumbling to your knees, a pained groan escaping your lips. Your arms instinctively wrapped around your aching stomach as you struggled to catch your breath.
The figure unflinchingly removed the kunai from its wounded palm, its expression remaining stoic despite the blood trickling out. Its words hung in the air, a mix of nonsense and malice, as you gazed up at it, your teeth clenched together. "But, I must admit," it continued, "you will die with honor. I admire that." With deliberate strides, it approached you, firmly grasping your weapon in its hands. "This is your end," Its ominous words trailed off as it prepared to deliver a final blow. You were about to dodge, but the sudden intervention of another figure caught you off guard.
Toko lunged at the figure with lightning-fast precision, tackling it to the ground. Moments later, Kenji rushed into view, his voice filled with concern as he called out to you in worry, "Sensei!" He hurried to your side, helping you up and diligently checking your body for any injuries. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, his gaze scrutinizing every inch of your frame in search of any signs of harm. "I'm okay," you responded, wincing as a sharp pain radiated from your stomach. “We fought those two ninjas, but both of them were clones,” he says and looks at Toko who jumped back towards you after tackling the figure, “I’m assuming that guy is the real deal,”
“Yeah, they haven’t used up much chakra, and they only used clones,” you hiss, “But we can’t let them escape,”
"You think I'll let him escape? I've had enough of this damn mission to let that happen." Toko sneered as he was about to dash back at the figure when you intervened, stopping him. "Wait, we need to work together," you urged. "I fought with them, and I barely got any information of what they can do, so we have no idea what they’re capable of." Your arm halted his advance, but it didn't deter his anger. "So what?" he snapped, shoving your arm away. "He's on the floor. Let's get the job done." He sprints towards the figure, pulling out his blade to finish it off.
"Toko!" you yelled, your voice strained with the effort, your lungs burning in protest. Before Toko could get any closer, you noticed the figure slyly retrieve the kunai it had taken from you, hidden beneath its form to secretly attack Toko. "Toko, get out of the way!" you warned urgently. With a swift movement, you pushed Kenji safely away from you and dashed toward your other student, just in time to shove him out of the path of the incoming blade. Kenji's quick thinking resulted in the figure being entrapped in an earth style jutsu, the ground surrounding him turning solid and trapping him in place.
Toko’s eyes were wide, and for the first time during the whole night, he seemed to snap back into reality. “Shit, sensei—,”
"I’m fine," you reassured as you glanced between Kenji and the now immobilized figure. You took a step towards it, your voice firm as you declared, "You're done." With a swift motion, you pulled the straw hat and mask off its face, revealing the true identity beneath. To your surprise, the person behind the mask was a young man, no older than your students. A wave of realization washed over you, causing your stomach to drop. This person was so young...
The young man, having shed his disguise, locked his pale eyes with yours, his voice carrying a note of resignation. "You should have stayed back," he told you. "She will have it her way, no matter what it takes," he continued, his gaze drifting towards the approaching town guards. The captain, who had previously assisted you, appeared beside you, his voice filled with surprise as he spoke. "You did it," he exclaimed, "You actually caught him..."
A nagging sense of wrongness crept over you as you observed the situation. It all felt too easy. How could this young man, this seemingly helpless individual, have defeated other jonin from various villages? How could he be solely responsible for the terrorizing of the village? Your supposed victory felt strangely hollow, as if the pieces of the puzzle didn't quite fit together. If this was the person responsible for the commotion, why hadn't he been apprehended earlier?
Your gaze lingered on the young man, observing as he silently accepted his fate, the guards quickly restraining him now that he was freed from the muddy trap, "Your reign of terror ends here." The captain exclaims, his masked face leaning towards the young man.
However, his words continued to echo in your mind, a sinister melody. "She will have it her way, no matter what it takes." Who he was referring to was unclear, and the possibility of there being another person behind the terrorizing acts only added to the mystery. Questions raced through your mind, but your body had finally caught up to the events of the day. The adrenaline wore off, and the sharp pain on your side became overwhelming, forcing you to close your eyes in pain. You glanced down at your vest, noticing the growing red spot on it. The wound was located right where the man had attacked you when you had selflessly pushed Toko away. Kenji, alarmed by your condition, quickly rushed to your side, concern etched on his face. "Sensei, you're hurt," he exclaimed, his voice filled with worry.
The guard's attention immediately shifted towards you as he registered your injury. "You're... hurt," he uttered, his voice filled with dread. "I'm so sorry," he apologized, but you shrugged it off, a hint of humor in your words, "Don't worry, he didn't stab me with his blade. He hurt me with my own weapon." His shoulders visibly relaxed as he exhaled, relieved to hear your reassurance. "I see," he finally responded. "I was worried for a moment. I wouldn't want our hero to suffer such a terrible fate." You could hear the smile on his face, “Thanks to all of you, we will finally live peacefully once more,”
Your students, ever humble, responded to the guard's gratitude with a sense of duty. "There's no need to thank us," Kenji explained, firmly supporting you from one side, "We're just doing our jobs." As the group moved along, Toko, who had been deep in thought, snapped out of his contemplation and quickly rushed to your side, firmly grasping your arm to provide additional support.
“Please, come to the hospital. Let us take care of your wound,” the captain offered, and you hesitantly agreed.
With the stitches in place and your injuries tended to, you finally made your way out of the village with a completed mission, guided by a sense of accomplishment yet plagued by an underlying dissatisfaction. The villagers cheered as you passed, celebrating your victory, but the lingering question of whether more of the perpetrators were still at large nagged at you. Despite the celebration, you couldn't shake off the feeling that the threat wasn't entirely neutralized. Nonetheless, you walked out the gates with your students, Toko and Kenji, both of them remaining quiet and tense but safe and sound.
Each step back felt like an eternity, your wounded body protesting with every movement you made. The pain radiated from your injury, making the journey seem considerably longer than it actually was. In a moment of misplaced stubbornness, you had refused to accept the offer of a full healing from the medical ninja who attended to you. Instead, you had insisted on merely receiving stitches and bandages, reasoning that there were patients who required the medics' attention more urgently than you did. As a result, you now found yourself regretting that decision, every step an agony.
As you kept walking, a sense of relief washed over you as you passed by the familiar cabin where you had once stayed at. There, the old lady, sitting on her porch, noticed you and instantly broke into a wide grin, eagerly waving at you in greeting.
Kenji and Toko both urged you to take a break, sensing your stubbornness but knowing you needed the rest. "We should stop here, Sensei," Kenji insisted, with Toko nodding in agreement as well. However, you protested, "I just want to get home as soon as possible." They were right, though. Your body was exhausted, and pushing yourself could lead to you collapsing before reaching your destination. With each step towards the cabin, time seemed to slow down, particularly for you as your injured side protested with every movement. Seeing your struggle, the old lady's expression immediately filled with worry as you approached her. "Oh, my dear..." The old lady quickly stood up upon noticing your uncomfortable demeanor and reached out to grasp your arms, gently guiding you inside the cabin. "Look at you, come, come," she said, her voice filled with maternal concern. "I will take care of you." Toko and Kenji followed closely behind, their concern matching hers.
Once you were inside, you chuckled apologetically, leaning heavily against the wall while clutching your wounded side. "We're sorry to bother you again," you said, wincing slightly. "I hoped you might have something for my pain?" The old lady, ever resourceful, began rummaging through her cabinets, and you watched as she took a jar filled with various herbs. "Of course," she replied, turning towards you. "But tell me, how did you get hurt?"
Your eyes carefully scanned the contents of the jar that the old lady had taken, before darting up to meet her gaze. "It was some rogue ninja," you explained, grimacing slightly. "Fortunately, he hurt me with my own weapon. Otherwise, I would’ve been poisoned," you continued, wincing as the pain flared. "But it still hurts like a bitch," you grumbled, shifting uncomfortably against the wall.
“I see,” she hums, pulling you towards the fireplace, “I’ll patch you up my dear, I have some soup ready too. I’ll pour you some after I take care of you,”
Toko's concern was evident as he glanced at your wounded side, his worry growing. "It's not bad, right?" he asked nervously. You attempted to soothe his concerns with reassurance, though your voice trembled slightly with pain. "It's just a small gash, Toko," you managed. The kind lady had already laid out a silk mat for you to rest on, and you gingerly laid down, wincing slightly as you did. The old lady then spoke up, shooing Toko and Kenji away. "How about you two boys start pouring the soups while I work on your teacher? Go, go,”
The old lady gently shooed Toko and Kenji away towards the kitchen, gesturing for them to go. You sighed, watching them leave as the lady began to tend to your wound, carefully removing your vest and lifting your shirt to reveal the injury. "Been a long day, hm?" she mused, her voice filled with warmth. As she poured some liquid onto the wound, you involuntarily hissed, the pain sharp and intense. “Yeah,” you managed to squeeze out. After a few moments of silence—and pure agony—your curiosity got the best of you.
You observed as the old lady skillfully mixed and crushed various herbs together, her expertise evident in her movements. "You seem to know a lot about medicine," you noted, your gaze fixed on her hands, "Yes, I was a medical nin back in the day," she replied, her smile warm and reminiscing. As she gently rubbed the herbs around your wound, you continued to observe her, intrigued by her past, "They even called me the 'miracle doctor,' but that's all just old news," she added, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.
Your eyes stayed fixed on her hands, watching intently as she poured more liquid onto your injury. "However, I barely have any chakra left to fully heal anyone anymore," she explained, her voice laced with a hint of regret. "I can only resort to medicine now," she continued, gently wrapping the bandages around your wound. Her words were interrupted by your suggestion, "Maybe you can help the people in the village," you proposed, your voice filled with hope. "You might have something that could help them, some sort of cure—,"
“Those people don’t want me, dear,” she shakes her head, “Trust me, I have tried,”
Your expression turned puzzled, "But why?" you asked, watching as she skillfully bandaged your stomach. "I was banished from my village, and am no longer welcomed," she replied, her voice steady and accepting. Once she finished, she handed you a bowl filled with a thick substance. "Here, drink this," she instructed. "It will help you with the pain." You obliged, lifting the bowl to your lips and taking a sip. The bitter liquid burned your throat as you swallowed, its thickness and heaviness leaving an unpleasant aftertaste. After swallowing the bitter liquid, you were left with a sour taste in your mouth, the experience far from enjoyable. Nevertheless, you mustered a grateful expression and thanked the old lady, though your face still showed signs of discomfort. "I don't understand," you finally voiced your confusion, turning your gaze towards her as she began organizing her medical supplies.
“It’s not for you to understand, dear,” she smiles, “Besides, I’ve come to term with it. I had a family and lived my life happily here. What more could I have asked for?” The smile that was plastered on her face was one of genuine happiness, and so you decided not to question any further.
After enjoying a meal and giving your body the rest it needed, you finally bid farewell to the old lady, expressing your gratitude for her assistance. She simply brushed off your thanks, insisting it was her duty to help those in need. As you waved goodbye and set off back towards the village, the journey seemed eerily similar to the one you had undertaken earlier. Although your wound had lost its initial stinging pain due to the medicine the old lady had given you, the trek back felt even longer and more arduous than before.
With your head feeling light and your body heavy, each step felt like a struggle. The only thought keeping you going was the idea of finally reaching the comfort of your own home. To your relief, the familiar gates of Konoha came into view, and you took the first step inside. A wave of relief washed over you, your smile growing bigger as you savored the feeling of being back in the safety of your village.
“Finally, back home,” you mumble, the boys stepping at each side of you, “Yeah,” Kenji sighed in relief as he uncrossed his arms, “You’ll… be going to the hospital?”
“I think I’ll go home and rest first,” you chuckle, rubbing your face tiredly, “I barely used any chakra but I feel like I did,”
"Then rest well. I'll see you later, sensei," Toko chimed in, his voice fading into the distance as he walked away. You couldn't help but frown as tension coiled in your stomach, a sense of dread settling over you as all your worries and unresolved issues assaulted you like a relentless wave. You exhaled deeply, turning to face Kenji, "Go home. You need to rest as well,”
“I barely did anything, you did all the work. All we did was stand by and watch,” he rubs his neck, “I’m sorry… if I acted out or anything like that,” he apologizes with a low head, “It’s never gotten this bad, ever,”
“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me,” you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, “We’ll work this out. The three of us. But right now, I’m more worried about our physical condition. Go home and take a break,” you smile, earning a nod from him. “I understand… see you around, sensei,” a small, yet gentle smile decorates his features, his feet guiding him away from you and towards his home.
Your exhaustion was evident as you rubbed your temple, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Right..." you murmured, your voice tinged with stress. "I need to file a report," you reminded yourself, recalling the formalities and paperwork needed to officially mark the mission as complete. Frustration and exhaustion weighed heavily upon you as you reluctantly began making your way towards the Hokage building, reluctant to face yet another task that stood between you and the sleep you longed for.
Every fiber of your being ached to collapse on the ground, and a familiar feeling of dizziness and disorientation washed over you once more. You couldn't understand why you felt so utterly exhausted, your annoyance growing with each passing second. This was a new level of tiredness, one you had never experienced before, not even during the traumatic days of war. The fatigue weighed heavily on you, and you found yourself becoming increasingly irritable as you struggled to push forward.
As you made your way across the bridge, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a familiar figure with silver hair caught your eye. A sense of curiosity washed over you, as you wondered why the man was there at all. You approached him, and as you drew closer, you noticed that he was standing near the river, gazing out at the water with a book in one hand and the other resting on the rail.
“Having fun, mister Hokage?” Your voice echoed and reached his ears, making him turn towards you and give you a welcoming smile. Not that you saw, you just assumed he smiled at the way his eyes formed a crescent.
“Ah, (Y/N), you’re finally back,” he greets, closing his book as he takes in your features, “Though, you seem a little worn out,”
“Well, the mission wasn’t exactly easy,” you cross your arms over your chest, “Not only that, but the boys also got into a crazy argument, I’ve got a lot on my plate,” you close your eyes and furrow your brows, “It’s never ending,”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” he says sincerely, “Don’t be. Anyways, what’s the oh-so-busy Hokage doing walking around the village reading?” You raise your brow at him, tilting your head slightly before clearing your throat. Your hand flies up and grips the bridge’s rail, feeling a little weak in the knees. “Just admiring the day. It’s about time I took a little walk and got out of that office,” he chuckles, looking at your face for a reaction before he suddenly becomes concerned.
“(Y/N)?” Your name escaped the man's lips as he noticed you leaning against the rail, your body visibly struggling to stay upright. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he took a step closer to you. Your eyes met his, but they were dull and weary.
“I don’t… feel so good,” you mumble, your balance giving up on you before you stumble forward, thankfully having him catch you right before you hit the ground. Your vision was becoming a blur, and you couldn’t quite hear anything except for a faint ringing sound. Has the exhaustion caught up to you? No, this was way different. Your stomach tingles and your skin feels… out of place. You felt hyper aware of everything, yet nothing at all. All you could see was the blur of Kakashi’s figure holding onto you.
As Kakashi caught you, worry began to consume him as he watched you slowly fade in and out of consciousness, “Shit! (Y/N)!” His eyes scanned your face and body, to search for anything that might be causing this, and they fell onto the red patch on your vest that was stained. As he pulled away the arm that had been covering the wound, he found his sleeve covered with your warm blood. You were bleeding. You were hurt. Whatever had happened to you needed to be treated immediately. Even though you were patched up, you were in dire need of even more medical assistance.
“I’ve got you, (Y/N). You’ll be okay,” were the last words you heard before fading into the dark unconsciousness.
Part 3 coming soon...
A/N: what do you guys think of it? I was planning on continuing it, but it was getting way too long, so I decided to split it into parts! Do you guys prefer this series short like the first part, or longer like this one? Also, most importantly, I hope you guys enjoy it!!
Tag list: @saltybloodtears @capynul @yuujifii @sammyxorae @babychunks10 @yourlocaljobstealer @hbessey89 @mammons-master (sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!!! Please let me know if it bothers you!!)
#naruto#naruto shippuden#fanfic#naruto obito#naruto obito uchiha#obito uchiha#obito uchiha x reader#obito x reader#obito x you#kakashi fanfiction#obito x reader x kakashi#kakashi x reader x obito#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi x reader#kakashi sensei#kakashi hatake#kakashi x you#naruto fic#naruto fanfiction#anime x reader#anime
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Hey, genuine question, although I'm not honestly expecting a response: if tumblr users have been telling you what they want and what they don't want since you've taken over, and their feedback has more or less been ignored consistently whilst rolling out changes that nobody asked for or uses (tumblr live is coming to mind), and you're not getting the content use you want, might it be an idea to try those before abandoning the site? What is the worst that could happen, really? Listen to your userbase. You had a lot of good will from listening to people at the start of your ownership: blaze did well, as did ad-free, polls and so on, but there are some really popular things you've removed or made obsolete (prev tags, blog themes, avatars etc.) that a lot of people want back. Equally, there are some things I've never heard a single person want - this site isn't TikTok, and never will be. Instead of trying attract a crowd that is already catered for elsewhere, making the people who love tumblr still despite all the changes in ownership more comfortable under you can only be a benefit. Thank you for reading, if you did actually read this.
Thank you for the genuine question! First, I'll say that we've never launched anything with the expectation the community would hate it, but there sometimes is a big difference between what people say they want and how people respond or what information (and often misinformation) goes viral.
As an example, Post+, which is a feature where you can pay to subscribe to other users, had some misinformation go viral that if you used it you'd be sued by copyright holders if you did fan fiction, and there was a huge backlash that the site was going paid and a coordinated campaign to attack (including with death threats) everyone who signed up for the program.
I'll repeat, this was a program where the money all went to creators, Tumblr did not take a cut, and the creators were often already selling work on Patreon or Ko-fi, this just was an integrated way for it to work. Because of the hate and attacks, every launch creator canceled the program. It was sad, because this was a feature users and creators said they wanted, and we prioritized making users money over projects that would make us money.
Since then we've gotten better at managing attacks and threats, with new tools and a bigger Trust & Safety team, but Post+ never recovered.
You mention Blaze and Ad-free doing well, but their adoption is so small relative to the use of Tumblr their revenue couldn't support a fraction of the ~1,000 servers it takes to run Tumblr, much less any salaries.
To your broader point, though, one thing I'm hoping with a more focused approach in 2024 is that we can streamline some of the extra things that were launched (like Live) that haven't gotten the adoption we hoped, and focus in on the core functionality that people use a ton of on Tumblr. We will likely be shipping less new stuff and more focused on improving existing functionality and core flows.
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distracted (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, oral sex (female receiving), sort of a denial kink, and roman is a fucking tease
summary: you haven't seen your boyfriend, Roman, in a while because of some stupid assignment you have to finish-- and Roman's not going to let that slide
word count: 2,406
My eyes immediately shot towards my bedroom window as I heard someone repeatedly tap against it— I hadn't expected any guests tonight. With a sigh, I got up, unable to suppress my growing smile at the sight of my boyfriend, Roman. I opened my window, watching him sit on my roof with a smug smirk in the moonlight, handsome as always.
"Hey, you," I said, letting out a short sigh; "Rome, I told you I have to study tonight..."
Rolling his eyes, Roman huffed as he made his way past me, making me move away from the window. "But I wanted to see you," he prompted, brushing past the pleasantries, sitting down on the window-sill. Roman reached out for me, his hands resting on my hips as he led me between his legs, looking up at me with his gorgeous, green eyes. "Is Orwell really more important than me?"
I huffed, snaking my arms around his neck. "Oh come on, don't do that to me," I knew he was joking, but I picked up on the slightly whiny hint in his voice. "I've already delayed this assignment a hundred times... You know it's due tomorrow."
"I know," Roman put one hand on the small of my back, pulling me even closer. "Would it speed things up if I helped? I think I had this exact assignment last year."
"I'm almost done, though," I mumbled, running my fingers through his hair. I was pleasantly surprised to feel that he hadn't put gel in it tonight. "I have about a few hours left."
Roman's smirk immediately grew into a rather big grin, biting his lip as his eyes shimmered with mischief. "So if I distract you for about half an hour or more, you'd still have time to catch up?"
I should've known. Giggling, I buried my face in his hair, inhaling his intoxicating scent. "I don't think that's such a good idea,"
From this angle, it was ridiculously easy for Roman to lean forward and press his lips against my neck, one of his hands traveling into the back pocket of my shorts. "I disagree," he mumbled against my neck, making his way down to my collarbones. "I think it's genius."
I let my lips part at the sensation of his wet kisses down my neck, feeling as though I had been touch-deprived for a while. Which I actually had been— I had been busy with school all week, having had practically no time to meet Roman. I let out a breathy chuckle at his comment; "No, Rome, I'm dead serious,"
"So am I,"
I gave his hair a gentle tug, pulling him away from my neck. I cupped his face, making sure he was looking at me; "It's already way past midnight, and my parents are home,"
Roman's hand on my back had started to dip under the hem of my shirt, and it was clear that his mind was already elsewhere. "That hasn't stopped us before," he murmured, his thumb now rubbing small circles into my bare skin. "I bet you've been stressing about this stupid assignment for some time now... Let me ease your mind."
It was beginning to sound like a good idea, and that's when I knew I was done for. I wrapped my fingers around both his hands, taking them into mine. "Let me just finish this paragraph, then,"
I led him to my bed, watching him happily splaying himself out on half of it with a blissful smile on his face. With a slight chuckle, I sat down next to him, dragging my laptop back into my lap as I resisted the urge to reach out and run my fingers through his hair again. It was so deadly soft tonight, I could barely resist.
"You have ten minutes," Roman said, smiling softly up at me. "After that, I jump you."
Tsking, I bit down on my lip, trying not to look too happy about it. Checking the time, I made note of when I should start expecting him to lose his patience.
And I should've probably calculated a little better, because it didn't go more than three minutes before I felt Roman's hand on my thigh. I glanced at him, watching him meet my eyes with a certain I'm-not-doing-anything look that I knew way too well. I couldn't help but huff; "Rome, it hasn't been more than three minutes—"
"Really?" Roman said with a groan. "Feels like it's been half an hour already."
Chuckling, I turned back to my assignment, trying not to be too distracted by how gorgeous he looked without even trying. How he was just lying in my bed like a Greek god, the moonlight giving away the golden hues in his dark hair— he was fucking glowing. If he didn't have that darn grin on his face, I would've said he looked like an angel; but angelic was definitely not the right word to use for a man like Roman. Not when he was softly tracing up and down my inner thigh with his fingers.
I really, really tried to concentrate. I was supposed to have seven more minutes, after all— six, now. But as I moved my laptop away from my lap, shifting on the bed, Roman wasted no time coaxing my thighs apart, planting himself between them with a swift motion.
Eyes wide, I glanced down at him; "What are you?—"
"Just killing time," Roman mumbled, pressing a wet kiss against my inner thigh which made me shiver.
"...I shouldn't have let you in through the window,"
He chuckled; "Yeah, you probably shouldn't have,"
I sighed in defeat, deciding I would let him do whatever he wanted for now as long as my hands were free to type. I did my best to scour my brain for the next sentence, but it became increasingly hard as his kisses made their way up my thighs, closer and closer. I wanted to tell him to knock it off, and I opened my mouth, ready to speak— however, nothing came out.
I felt Roman hook his arms under my legs, dragging me a tad bit closer, which had me yelping just slightly. My eyes quickly darted towards the clock, realizing I had about four minutes left. However, as Roman's soft, eager kisses inched closer to the edge of my shorts, I felt myself holding my breath in anticipation— was he seriously about to do this?
I made the mistake of looking at him, immediately meeting Roman's green, challenging gaze. "What?" he said, his hot breath ghosting over the inside of my thigh. "Am I bothering you or something?"
And something told me that's exactly what Roman wanted. He wanted to bother me, provoke me, and I wasn't about to let him. So I shook my head— and this was the moment I realized I had walked right into a trap.
"Good," Roman said, eyes shimmering with want. "Don't let me distract you."
I held back a frustrated groan; was this what he was playing at? "I won't," I breathed, feeling my throat go dry. Roman and his games.
However, it got damn near impossible as he pulled my shorts aside, his hot breath grazing my underwear. I so desperately hoped there was no trace of my arousal, but I knew there definitely was when I felt his finger press against a rather wet spot over my entrance.
I glanced at the clock once more— three minutes. My heart thumped hard in my chest as I felt my brain shut down, staring at the Word-document in front of me with nothing going on in my brain other than thoughts of what Roman would do next.
I knew my cover was blown when he leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my clit through my underwear, making my breath hitch rather loudly. Fuck.
No matter what, I was not about to let Roman think he had won. I started to type random keys, hoping to make it look like my brain wasn't actively melting at the feeling of his hot breath against my dampening underwear.
"How's the writing going?" He smirked up at me, words warm like honey.
Fucker. He knew damn well. "Good," I breathed, clearing my throat-- it was getting increasingly harder to breathe.
Roman hummed; "How many minutes left?"
"Two— No, one,"
With a content smirk splayed across his lips, he licked a stripe right along the crease of my thigh, making me whimper just slightly. At this point, I wanted nothing more than for that minute to be over— screw the assignment. I bit down on the inside of my cheek as I realized he was now drawing forth a hickey on the inside of my thigh, moving further away from where I wanted him the most. This was getting torturous.
I let out a tiny squeak of joy as I saw that the time was up, tossing my laptop far away on the bed as I propped myself up on my elbows. "Done!"
"Yeah?" Roman looked up at me, his green eyes practically sparkling in the moonlight as he hooked his fingers around my underwear, dragging it off. "Thank God." He wasted no time dipping his head between my legs, licking a wet stripe up along my sex which made me go weak, lying back down on the bed with a content sigh. After having worked my ass off with this assignment, I realized that Roman might be right; this might be exactly what I need.
"Fuck, Rome," I reached down to run my fingers through his hair, smiling at the feeling of how soft it was as I tried to steady my breathing.
Roman repeated the action, his wet tongue sliding up my slit dreadfully slow once more. It only dragged out the feeling, setting my nerves on fire and making my toes curl— I was getting desperate at this point; "Roman, please—"
But I had never known Roman to be merciful, and I shouldn't have counted on it either. This time, he did it once more, but so stupidly soft, I couldn't help but squirm, my legs giving in to a slight quiver. The hand I had in his hair tightened, hanging onto him as he traced a circle around my clit, careful to ignore my burning need. "Please, Rome, be nice," I breathed, trying my best not to whimper, wanting more.
Roman hummed, pulling away with a smug smile splayed across his lips. "I'll be nice if you let me take you out on Saturday,"
I wanted to cuss him out so bad— he knew I had an exam on Monday, he knew I didn't have time. "You want to talk about this now?—"
"Just two hours," Roman said, leaning down to press a short kiss against my clit, making my back arch off the bed in surprise. "We'll grab a coffee to get you some energy, fuck in the car, and then you'll be right back."
I let out a broken whimper, knowing I wouldn't be able to say no when my mind was in this state. And who would say no to a free coffee and a steamy session in the back of Roman's car? I nodded, defeated; "Sounds good,"
Beaming with victory, Roman decided he had teased me enough as he dipped back down between my legs, wrapping his lips around my aching sex. He hummed as he gently sucked my clit, but still firm enough to drive me crazy.
The quiver of my legs returned and my breath came out in short, shaky gasps. Roman's fingers dug into my thighs as I raised my hips, rocking against his mouth in desperation, wanting so bad to have more of him— but instead, he forced my hips down, holding me in place as he continued to keep me on the edge.
Frantic, my free hand grabbed my bedding, biting down on my lip to suppress any load moans. "Shit, Rome, I'm close—" I breathed, feeling the familiar tightening of my stomach, a knot of pleasure balling up in my system.
I got ready for Roman to pull away as he usually did, ready for him to deny me what I wanted most. However, when he didn't, keeping a steady rhythm, my eyes widened as I realized he was giving me a wordless green light of permission.
And the knot in my stomach tightened, shrinking more and more until it had no other choice but to release, making my back arch off the bed with a broken moan as I reached my climax. I felt Roman's lips leave me, a shaky breath seeping out of me in relief and exhaustion.
I barely had the energy to let out a small fuck, Roman's accompanying laugh making me blush with the realization of what had just happened. He laid down next to me, pulling me in for a sweet kiss. I did my best to block out the taste of myself on his lips, letting out a sigh as calmness washed over me. "You were right, Rome... I needed that,"
Roman chuckled, brushing my hair out of my face with gentle strokes. "Believe me, I know,"
If I hadn't been working on that stupid assignment for several days straight, barely allowing myself to take any breaks, I would've probably not felt as tired as I did right now. My lashes fluttered slowly, growing more and more drowsy as Roman leaned forward, pressing his wet lips against my forehead.
"That was really nice," I breathed, still feeling the remnants of my orgasm in my fingertips.
Pulling me closer, Roman hummed; "I'm glad,"
And in any other circumstance, I would've returned the favour he just did me— if it hadn't been for the fact that sleep embraced me like a warm duvet.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
I woke up the next morning as though I had heard a gunshot, eyes screwed shut with the remnants of my deep sleep. Blindly patting around my bed for my laptop, realizing I had missed out on several precious hours of writing my assignment, I sighed as I didn't feel Roman next to me. He never stayed over, mostly because none of us wanted to be caught by my parents, but it still stung waking up alone. Every damn time.
Finally finding my laptop, I opened my eyes with a slight groan, sleepy beyond belief. However, as I spotted a post-it stuck to the front of it, my eyes rounded out in surprise;
woke up early, finished it for you. picking you up around three. good morning, baby
I let out a tiny squeak, beaming down at the note. God, he was the best.
#roman godfrey#fanfic#oneshot#hemlock grove#roman godfrey x reader#high school au#creative writing#smut#writing#roman godfrey fic#bill skarsgård#bill skarsgard#x reader#x you
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And just like that, Forge has a name.
I almost choked when I heard it. I use captions, so I could see I hadn't imagined it, and I was in absolute shock. I repeated "DANIEL?" in disbelief about 10 times, my hand on my mouth and my eyes wide. I looked at my husband to confirm I wasn't going insane. Then I stared into space for the rest of the episode.
X-Men '97 using Forge's real name was the last thing I expected. And the way they did it, too, so casually, in conversation. I'D BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR 30 YEARS.
You might think it's a small thing, but before X-Men '97 episode 10, so before yesterday, Forge didn't have a real name. He was introduced in 1984. Let that sink in: that's 40 years without a single Marvel writer bothering to give him a name.
The fans, myself included, came up with headcanon to justify the decision and sometimes made up names for him in fanfic (Jonathan Silvercloud being the most famous one - no it's not an alt reality name, it comes from fic), but no Marvel writer took the time to explain or rectify.
This was frankly insulting of them, especially when you consider Forge's constant presence in the comics, and the ridiculous number of names some other characters have. Also, and perhaps most importantly, Chris Claremont had already planned a name for him:
All Marvel needed to do was use this name to make it canon. Or perhaps ask Claremont if they could use it. (And if they didn't want to speak to Claremont, they could still just...make up another name. You know, that thing writers do all the time.) But no, even after the name was announced on Twitter, it still was never used, on panel or elsewhere.
Enter a simple piece of dialogue in X-Men '97, and boom, Forge has a name. It wasn't that difficult, was it? Such a small move, but it shook me like a bomb. It's a historic moment for the character, and for the people who love him as much as I do. It's like he was finally given an identity, and with it the basic dignity he deserves.
I had imagined all sorts of scenarios in which his name would be revealed - all quite dramatic or emotional. But I guess the best way to retcon something that doesn't make sense is to pretend it never happened. So revealing his long-withheld name in conversation, natural like, is absolutely perfect. I love that Forge doesn't even react, because, you know, it's just his name, no big deal.
(I'm a bit sad that Ororo wasn't the first one to call him by his first name, but hey, you can't have it all.)
As far as I'm concerned, the name is canon now. '97 isn't the comics, but it's still Marvel, and that's good enough for me. I've waited long enough. And if the first name Claremont wrote is canon, then so is the last.
Which means: Forge has a full name. *SQUEEEEEEE*
I don't know who made the decision to use Forge's name or why, but I want to thank them. They righted a major wrong.
Now catch up, Marvel Comics. Everyone deserves a name. Even the monkey wrench repairman with non-flashy powers.
Everyone, meet Daniel Lone Eagle.
#x men 97#xmen97#xmen97 spoilers#xmen forge#x men forge#forge#Daniel Lone Eagle#marvel#marvel comics#xmen#xmen comics#x force#x men
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We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)
Pedri x Reader
Part 1
Warnings: None
Word count: 8.7k
A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)
(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)
Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:
I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.
Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?
~~~
"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."
The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.
"Self-hating much? You are also American."
"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.
"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"
"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."
"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."
Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.
The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.
But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.
A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.
"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.
"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."
"Mhm I'm sure."
"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."
Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.
"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."
Huh?
After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).
"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.
"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."
No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???
Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.
Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.
No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.
"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."
A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.
"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).
"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).
You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.
"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"
A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.
"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"
Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.
"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."
You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"
You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).
"Bon dia, ladies."
The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.
"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."
"The magician?"
Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.
"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."
As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"
~
Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.
As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.
"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."
There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.
"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."
"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.
"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."
The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.
"Bon dia, ladies."
"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."
Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.
The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.
His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.
Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.
"Who is the new girl?"
He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.
"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.
"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.
"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?
"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.
"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.
"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.
"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.
"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.
"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"
The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.
"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."
Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.
"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."
"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."
The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?
"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"
"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.
"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.
"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."
"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.
"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.
Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.
"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."
You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.
"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.
"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.
Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.
"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.
"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.
"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.
"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.
"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.
"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."
He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."
The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.
"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."
"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.
"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.
"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.
"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.
"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.
"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.
"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."
The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.
"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."
You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.
"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."
"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.
"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."
Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.
"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.
"Please don't say-"
"You're hot."
"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."
"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"
A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.
"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."
Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.
"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."
You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.
"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"
The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.
"So, you think Pedri likes you?"
The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.
"Excuse me?"
"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."
You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,
"Why not?"
Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.
"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"
Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?
And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.
Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,
"Am I still invited out tonight?"
~
Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.
"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.
"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."
Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.
"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."
Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.
"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."
Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.
"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."
"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."
Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).
Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.
"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."
The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"
But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,
"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"
Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.
"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."
"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."
"I'm begging you not to."
~
You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.
Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.
The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.
"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."
You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.
Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.
[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that
[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer
The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.
You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?
You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.
"Are you okay?"
The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.
"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."
"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."
The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.
He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.
"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.
You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,
"Do you want to go back to your place?"
There was no answer but yes.
~
The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.
You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.
"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"
One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.
"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."
Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.
"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."
The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.
"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"
"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."
Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.
"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."
Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."
You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.
"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"
"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.
"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"
"She must have done something to my note. She-"
"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."
Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.
There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.
"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.
"His what?"
"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"
You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.
How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.
[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist
[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.
[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots
No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.
Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.
[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro
[Naranja]: we are not friends
[Naranja]: and we never will be
[You can no longer send messages to this user]
~~~
A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3
Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.
Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.
Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza
Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/
#gavisuntiedboot#gub we cant be friends#pedri#pedri x reader#pedri gonzalez imagine#pedri imagine#pedri blurb#pedri gonzalez#pedri x y/n#pedri x you#pedri gonzalez one shot#pedri fanfic#footballer#football rpf#football fanfic
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Warnings | yandere!gojo, mentions of su!c!de, au where geto didn't defect and no one is dead (riko is living it up as a teacher along with haibara, and nanami is ok too), reader is referred to as "y/n" and with she/her pronouns.
Summary | Gojo thinks of you fondly, and often. Yandere ! Gojo x Female ! Reader
Y/n likes those a lot, he muses to himself when he notices an antique shop. His eyes scanning the old objects that decorated the store's front window. Bet y/n would love to come here...
Gojo Satoru didn't allow himself to dwell on the thought as he noticed Geto waiting for him down the street. The man waving his hand to Gojo.
"Yo, Satoru. What took you so long?"
"This and that," he said with a smile and a teasing tone. His head turning back slightly to gaze at the antique shop again before returning his attention to his friend, "anyway, where is everyone else? Usually I'm the late one."
"They're all already at the diner, i was just the nice one and decided to wait for you here, you dumbass."
Gojo hummed lightly, "y/n there too?"
Geto didn't miss a beat, "she couldn't make it."
Gojo sighed, "she is always canceling. Bet those higher ups are making her go on yet another hard mission."
Geto shrugged, "you know how it is, but she always makes it back," he gave Gojo a side-long look, his eyes softening slightly.
The night waned on when the two finally made it to the diner, and everyone could tell that even though Gojo was with them, he wasn't really there. His mind was elsewhere. Thinking of someone. Thinking of y/n.
The day she died was a long time ago.
She was a jujutsu sorcerer, and they all had just graduated from Jujutsu Tech. She even became a teacher, too.
No one saw it coming, though. When she died, that is. And she didn't die by some cursed spirit. In fact, she ... she killed herself. No one knows why either. She didn't leave a note, there weren't any warning signs. She was just .. here one day and gone the next.
Everyone would say the same thing.
"She was a happy person."
"She couldn't have been depressed!"
"She had so much to live for!"
By the time that everyone was done and it time to go home, Gojo found himself waving to everyone and ambling on to his home. Feet treading against the ground as he walked.
It was so hard.
It was so hard keeping himself from smiling. Everyone thinks he's in denial about your death, but they couldn't be farther from the truth.
Because guess what?
You're very much alive and being kept very safe in his home. Locked away where only he can see you.
He thought about telling Suguru, but he thought better of it. Suguru wouldn't understand, he just knows it!
"I'm home~!"
The moment he opened the door, he immediately heard the soft padding of feet coming towards him. A smile cracked upon his perfect lips as he shut the door behind him, locked it, and then held his arms out.
And y/n flung herself right into his awaiting embrace, "You're home! What took so long?!"
There was also another small detail he was keeping hidden.
The day she supposedly "killed" herself was also a day that the higher ups sent her on a tough mission. The cursed spirit that she faced against hit her head pretty hard and gave her amnesia. The only thing she could remember was Gojo, who he was, and that she was dating him. She couldn't remember her own name or where she lived, and Gojo? He saw this as a perfect opportunity.
She was his, right for the taking.
It's been a few years since then and y/n hasn't remembered anything, and honestly Gojo wouldn't have it any other way.
"Sorry, sorry. My friends were holding me up. They were so insistent on eating out tonight."
"Can't I meet your friends some day?"
"Nope~"
And he left it at that because she knew better than to push him.
"Now, did you eat already?"
"Mmhm."
"Great! Let's get ready for bed then, I've been wanting to cuddle with you all day!"
"Ok! Can we watch that new movie you got too?"
"Anything for you~!"
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#yandere satoru gojo#yandere gojo#yandere#yandere gojo x y/n#yandere gojo x you#yandere gojo x reader
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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3 Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6 Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9
Word Count: 1328
Chapter 9:
Despite the circumstances, there was not a lot of panic; which could be considered a good sign. Being calm would help find a solution, and something was telling you that the clock with the counting down number was not there for show.
Suddenly, you heard a gasp followed by Alice's voice.
"Your face is back to normal." She said to Sharon, making everyone notice that indeed the swelling had all disappeared.
"Thank goodness." Sharon exclaimed, placing a hand over her heart.
You also went to Lilia, who surprisingly still held on the hand mirror and both observed your faces; deeply relieved you were back to normal.
A sigh of relief escaped your lips but you could still fill your heart racing faster, making you question whether it was from the sudden stress or something else.
Teen looked at all the women around him. "It went away so fast."
Somehow, this seemed to ring a bell in your mind. "Why do I feel this is not a good thing?" You questioned.
Surprisingly, Jen pointed a finger at you, but her mind was elsewhere. "No, she has a point. This is not a yay. Very much not, yay."
"What do you mean?" Teen asked for everyone in the room.
Jen did her best to keep her tone from faltering. "The fact that the face swelling decreased so quickly means it could be only one type of poison... Alewife's Revenge."
You could not help but roll your eyes at the name. "Is there anything in potions that doesn't have an ominous name attached to it?"
Lilia glanced at you and merely shrugged her shoulders, having no answer to your rather rhetoric question.
"Face swelling is just the beginning." Jen continued, bringing up all the symptoms. "Next is dizziness, delirium, loss of motor function."
Suddenly, Alice started to walk away from the group. "My heart's racing."
"That's another one... Also, hallucinations, and eventually... death."
Something inside Agatha snapped, and she lost whatever calm demeanour she had managed to keep all this time. "I've gotta get outta here." She said and headed for the balcony doors.
She grabbed the heaviest item she saw first and marched towards the glass doors before starting to smack on it with all the force she could master.
Everyone called for her to stop, but it was you and Alice that moved to do something instead.
The former police witch managed to pull the item away from Agatha's hands, earning a roar of frustration from the magicless witch.
Agatha was ready to attack Alice and get the item back, but you were faster. You had moved behind her, wrapping your hands around her waist and grabbing her wrist; keeping them close to her body.
"Agatha, Agatha, Ags... breathe, breathe" you whispered to her ear, fighting against her futile attempts to free herself from your grasp.
You were stronger than her, though, and at that moment; you were also far more determined to stop her from doing a mistake that would cost her... that would cost all of you.
Eventually, your former lover stopped and you slowly let her go; ensuring she would not try any surprise attacks or any other tricks. You knew better than anyone that she was the most dangerous when cornered.
"You can't run away from the poison." Jen scolded her, and she only scoffed in return before regaining her composure.
As you let her go fully, you failed to notice that one member of the group was missing. The boy had noticed something and soon came back, with a familiar glass of wine; it was still filled.
"She didn't drink the poison." He pointed out, looking at her in disbelief. "You can't cheat, Agatha."
"Why? Who says?"
Lilia glared at Agatha. "The Road." She reminded her.
"Oh, that's ridiculous! We don't all have to suffer." Agatha argued and pointed at the boy. "Teen didn't drink"
Jen, of course, already had her argument ready. "He's not in the coven. And he's underage!"
"I'm gonna shove it down your gullet, so help me..." Lilia threatened but Agatha did not let her finish.
"You know what?" She exclaimed as she grabbed the glass from Teen and smashed it on the ground, letting the red wine stain the white carpet and wooden floors.
Different expressions and shouts filled the room and even you could not help but take a deep breath to contain your reaction.
You had feelings for Agatha. You would protect her, but even you could not be an accomplished to a cheating scheme against the road.
Both you and Agatha knew better of the rules, and yet your lover still thought she could try her luck.
You got it. She was scared, but none would make it through unless you passed at least the four basic trials.
"You have to drink, Agatha." Alice shouted.
"Well, I would, but there's no more wine."
Something grabbed your attention as you stood next to Agatha. "There is," you pointed out towards the table.
Alice grabbed an empty glass left from one of the witches, noticing the remnants of the red wine left at the bottom. Surprisingly, the glass started to refill itself; proving to Agatha that this was the only way forward.
Agatha was still hesitant, and Teen was getting tired of this game, not wishing to see the other witches and you dying; not when you all had just started.
"Drink." He ordered Agatha, surprising her with his sudden and serious tone that was unlike him. When the woman hesitated, he chose to do it himself. "Fine. Then, I will."
"No!" Agatha exclaimed, surprising everyone with her reaction and her quick move to grab the glass before the boy.
You could not help but arch an eyebrow at the sudden protectiveness, but this time, she refused to meet your gaze; knowing you would be able to read right through her.
In the end, she emptied the glass in one go; pulling a face at the bitter taste. "Ugh! It's so cheap." She commented.
You all looked at her, waiting for the swelling to start but you did not manage to stare for long... for Sharon was the first victim of the next stage.
"Please, please." She begged as she walked on weak legs, staring pretty much at nothing. "Wanda? Wanda, I'm begging you. Let him breathe. Please."
Her begging tone, the fact that she was on the verge of tears; was an unsettling thing to see, especially since she had been so joyful and happy all this time... well, almost all the time.
Hearing Wanda's name made you realize she was hallucinating from her time in Westview but based on her reaction, it was not a good memory.
Dread filled your stomach as you speculated that the hallucinations were not going to be any good ones but most likely your worst nightmares.
Sharon started to pant heavily and in the next few seconds, she passed out. Alice and Teen moved fast to keep her on the couch, while the rest watched shocked at what had just taken place in front of your very own eyes.
"So the hallucinations seem chill." Teen said, trying to change the dooming aura in the room.
"Hey, Potions Witch." Agatha suddenly said and when everyone turned to look at her, were surprised to see her with her face swollen. "It's time to brew an antidote."
Jen moved towards the Kitchen as she started to think, the rest following. You and Agatha were the last ones standing and she dared to look at you.
This time, your look towards her was one of disappointment and you merely shook your head a few times. Without saying another word, you walked towards the coven; leaving Agatha behind to stare at your retreating back with her lips parted.
Hurt or not by your reaction was well hidden behind her swollen face, making one wonder if she did regret the latest scheme she almost pulled off.
Chapter 10
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha fanfic#agatha spoilers#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#marvel#moon phases fanfic
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You seduce Hitoshi.
Warnings: Hitoshi aged up | NSFW
2,000 words~
Hitoshi sipped on the glass of wine you handed him. He eyed you as you puttered around the kitchen finding another glass for yourself.
His mind was overflowing with thoughts. Why had you called him over so late suddenly?
It must have been a few years since you both graduated from U.A. and he hadn't heard from you since then. However, tonight he got a message from you asking- no demanding him to come over. Hitoshi had the largest crush on you back in U.A. to the point that it was stupid. Ever since your first spar he found himself captivated by you. You were a strong confident hero, everything he wanted to be himself and you did it effortlessly.
So- of course, when he received your late-night message inviting him over, he dropped everything he was doing and drove to your apartment.
Finally locating another wine glass, you slipped it between your fingers and poured yourself a sturdy glass.
"So, uh- it's good to see you again," he spoke, trying to break the confusing tension.
"Good to see you too general studies~" You teased as you stalked back over to where he was sitting.
General Studies
It was the nickname you used to tease him with at U.A. Even after he transferred to the hero course, you made it a point to continue to use the playful nickname.
If anyone else had called him that, his blood would have boiled. He worked hard to train and transfer to the hero course. However, when the teasing words danced off your lips, he felt no anger at all. Quite the opposite.
The way your eyes looked at him up and down, and the corner of your mouth raised to a smirk when you said it always left him flustered. Even now.
Hitoshi continued to attempt small talk with you however, found himself at a loss for words at your next action. "How have you been? I think I heard you are working at-," he was in the middle of saying as you plopped yourself down in his lap.
He was left open-mouthed as you adjusted yourself on his lap making yourself comfortable.
"Hmm~ what were you asking me?" You teased him taking in the stunned boy's expression and placing a hand on his cheek.
"Uh-" Hitoshi tried to regain his train of thought but your hand found its way to his hair, running your fingers gently through his purple strands.
Boys are so easy, you laughed to yourself.
"That's ok Shinso, I didn't call you over to make small talk anyway," You spoke and placed a kiss on his neck eliciting a soft moan from him.
"Hey, I-," Hitoshi spoke clearing his throat. "You know I- I've been interested in you since U.A.," He spoke.
"Mhm~" You murmured.
"So, I-," Hitoshi kept trying to form his words into a complete sentence but the way you began to rock back and forth on his lap sent all the blood from his brain rushing elsewhere. "So, I- uh- would actually like to get to know you." He finally managed to say.
"Mmmm~ this is a good way to get to know me wouldn't you say?" You said with another wink and a small lick to his neck. "Besides little mockingbird~ do you really want me to stop?" You challenged and moved your gaze to make eye contact with the hero.
Hitoshi's eyes were already swimming in lust, his mouth hung agape as he tried to get himself to reject your advances. He was interested in more than just a one-night stand with you but-
"I didn't think so~" You whispered pressing your lips to his ears. "You said it yourself- you've been wanting this since U.A. haven't you? When we sparred and I pinned you down I could feel how excited you were~ Tell me Shinso- did you go back to your dorm and think of me? Did you touch yourself and pretend your hands were mine? Come on let me finally show you the real thing~"
Your words sent Hitoshi over the edge. Whatever resolve he had was far lost now. Another moan escaped his lips as you settled more into his lap swinging your other leg over him bringing yourself to straddle him now.
Every word you said bounced around his brain and hardened his excitement. Every word was true too. He lost count of the times that he had thought about you alone in his dorm. Finding his hand wrapped around his cock before he could even register what he was doing.
Despite his fantasies when he was a young boy, he had every intention of approaching this traditionally and respectably. He wanted to take you to dinner- go on dates- get to know you. But- how was he expected to stop himself now- now that you were presenting yourself so straightforward and singing such lewd words in his ears.
"That's a good boy~ it's ok to give in. Your body is speaking for you," you said resting your hand on the growing bulge in his pants.
The feeling of your hand on his excitement caused Hitoshi to snap. His hand found its way to the back of your head, fingers grazing your scalp as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and guided your lips to his. He pressed a heavy kiss full of lust onto your lips, and you parted them obediently giving him access to whatever he wanted.
Hitoshi eagerly followed your signals- his tongue exploring your mouth in rhythmic movements that elicited a deep moan from you. Your moan excited him further as his other hand found your waist and encouraged you to press further into his lap- his bulge rubbing up against you through his jeans.
"Mmm that's it~ I knew you had it in you, general studies~" You pulled away catching your breath.
Hitoshi didn't speak but sucked in the air attempting to catch his own breath. His lavender eyes pierced through you full of lust and begging for more.
"Do you want to feel~?" You asked seductively guiding his hand under your lingerie to your entrance. Hitoshi happily obeyed once more, his finger sliding slowly over your clit as he made his way to your entrance.
His finger slid inside you easily, "Fuck-," he moaned out. "You're so wet," his voice was deeper and heavier than before as if the lust had taken him down an octave.
"Mhm~ Do you think you were the only one that thought about this back at U.A.? That seductive sex hair of yours and bondage scarf you ran around with~ come on general studies show me what you can do," you provoked.
Hitoshi followed through sliding his finger in and out of your entrance slowly and rhythmically. You moaned out and moved your hips in motion with him, fully intending to give him a show.
"Damn~" Hitoshi marveled at the way your body moved for him and sang out. It was hotter than any fantasy his young boy brain had concocted. He was utterly spellbound by you.
"Come on little mockingbird give me more~" You pleaded.
Hitoshi slid another finger inside and lost his breath once again at your deepening moans and whimpers that you let out for him. You fully bounce up and down fucking yourself on his fingers- giving Hitoshi nothing left to do but gawk at the sight.
"Mm~ want to feel you~" You moaned halting your movements. "Please- can I?" You asked pressing a kiss to his jawline as your hand ran across the throbbing bulge in his pants.
Your performance had left Hitoshi speechless, but his hand guided yours to his belt.
"Enjoying the show so far~?" You asked teasingly as your hands worked to undo his pants. Hitoshi let out a breath of air trying to form any words. "You're so cute all pussy drunk already~ don't worry I'm going to finish the job," You winked and pulled down his jeans and boxers.
"Ohhh~" You sang out taking in the sight of his full-grown excitement. "I felt you were big when we sparred but- this is quite the pleasant surprise~" Hitoshi's face flushed at your praises to his member.
You smiled enjoying how much power you had over him. You wrapped your hand around his cock and moved your hand up and down the full length of his shaft. "You know after we sparred, and I felt your bulge- I had some dirty thoughts of my own when I was alone in my dorm. I wondered what your cock looked like- what it would feel like~ I'm so thankful you came over tonight, don't worry I'll make sure you won't regret it~" You spoke as you placed your hands on his thighs to lift yourself up. Hitoshi placed his hands on either side of your waist helping guide you as you sat back down on his cock.
"Fuck~" Hitoshi let out a loud moan that filled the room as your walls stretched around him and you sat back on his lap- cock fully inside.
You placed a gentle kiss on his lips, "You want me to move right little mockingbird~?" You asked.
Hitoshi nodded eyes half-lidded filled with lust.
"What happened to wanting to get to know me first hmm?" You mocked him.
Hitoshi's eyes widened as he took in your teasing expression. You had him and now you were playing with him. His eyes said it all as they silently begged you to move.
"Come on then- tell me, what do you want? Did I break you that easily?" You asked, a twisted grin growing on your face.
"Move- please move~" He begged giving in to your taunts. You had him, and he knew he had no other option than to concede. He couldn't remember a time he had ever felt so dominated in his life.
You smiled down at him, "Again- I didn't hear you."
"Please- fuck yourself on my cock," He spoke again.
Boys are so easy.
Taking mercy on him you began to bounce slowly on his cock. The pleasure that erupted on Hitoshi's face was unmistakable.
"Such a good boy~" You taunted as you picked up the pace causing Hitoshi's moans to increase.
"Fuck- mm~" He mewled out.
Your pace did not let up or give Hitoshi any time to restrain himself, his end was coming near, and it was clear from the flushness of his face. The way you took complete charge of him- and the lewd sounds that echoed through the room were doing him in.
You bounced up and down further observing the increasingly euphoric look on his face.
"Shinso brainwash me~" You called out as you continued to bounce up and down on his shaft.
"What?!" His eyes snapped open.
"Brainwash me~ I want to cum with you~" You pleaded.
"Mm~ no~" he moaned out during your thrusts.
You slowed down your pace to make your case, "Please I want to cum with you- I can see you're almost there,"
"No," he said stubbornly, logic running through his brain for the first time since you sat in his lap for the night.
"Please I want my walls to squeeze you as you cum inside~ you have my consent~ brainwash me~" You continued to make your case as you slide down once more from his tip to his base.
"Fuck~" He sang out frustrated... His eyes searched yours. You were serious, there was no question about it. Hitoshi had his reservations about misusing his quirk but-
"You want to cum?" He asked you.
Your eyes locked onto his as an excited smile spread across your face, "Yes." You answered him, allowing his quirk to activate.
Hitoshi closed his eyes and allowed his end to come, simultaneously you felt a rush of pleasure ring through your body more intense than you had ever felt before- it put every vibrator you had to shame as you were forced to cum by his quirk.
Your walls squeezed around him as his release filled you.
"Holy shit~" You sang out and collapsed onto him, resting your head on his shoulder. "You have the best quirk for sex general studies~" You declared.
Hitoshi inhaled deeply, trying to catch his own breath- maybe he should have been using his quirk for sex he realized.
Catching your breath. you smiled up at him, "Tell me~ what do you need to get ready again? Some juice- water?"
"What?" Hitoshi asked breathlessly.
"Oh, don't get mistaken now- I'm not done with you." You smiled and moved your lips to ears once more to whisper, "You're fun I like you- so you're in for a long night~"
Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee
#bnha shinso hitoshi#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi shinso x y/n#mha shinsou#bnha shinsou#shinso x reader#shinso x y/n#shinso smut#hitoshi smut#shinsou x reader#shinsou smut#bnha x self insert#bnha x y/n#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader#mha smut#bnha smut#mha shinso hitoshi
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Jealous. - Theodore Nott X Reader
A/N: I haven't written here yet I don't think, but yeah. Didn't proofread and it's aggressively unedited, but in honor of Halloween and just October in general I've been rewatching Harry Potter.... so. kinda of based on a personal experience but not really lol.
Summary: Theo and Y/N are best friends, dating other people to make each other jealous. -*cheating, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort. partying, Slytherins being devious as usual. I'd like to imagine Y/N and Theo dated and broke up prior but use your imagination. Italian!Theo, obvi Lorenzo Zurzolo.
Theo was sat at the Slytherin table, with his new girlfriend. Y/N was seated in direct sight of him, at the Gryffindor table. Seated next to Cormac McLaggen, a tall handsome Gryffindor with his arm slung around y/n's shoulder. He watched as y/n would smile, fake a laugh, and flirt with the blonde boy. Theo wouldn't dare admit to his jealousy though, he wondered if y/n was even still his best friend, they'd grown so distant in the past few months, and they barely spoke aside from their classes together. It wasn't until his girlfriend, Astoria Greengrass asked him a question that he was pulled out of his jealous haze. "T, can we talk later?" she turned her eyes towards Theodore, who was a bit surprised. "of course. Is everything alright?" he asked, he felt as though he was operating on autopilot, He wanted to be a good boyfriend because the poor girl deserved someone who treated her right, but it didn't feel right, his heart wasn't in it and his attention was elsewhere making him feel a bit guilty. Astoria was a sweet girl, younger than Theo, but she already had an excellent reputation around school. she was smart, kind, and thoughtful. all the things that would make a great girlfriend, but Theodore knew deep down he was being facetious. there was a short pause, and Astoria's smile faded quickly, "I'd just like to talk with you about something." she said softly, somewhat disappointed. Theo nodded. The couple continued their meal, Theo being a bit more quiet than usual.
Y/n sat with the Gryffindors almost every day because of Cormac, a sometimes arrogant and always rowdy bunch. Cormac had asked y/n out a few months ago, and things had been steady. But Cormac was becoming very distant and wasn't as talkative and open. Y/n was onto him, hoping to catch him in a lie or a secret somehow although they both spoke about how happy they were. It wasn't until later in the evening, when Cormac said he'd walk y/n to the dorms from an evening meeting. But he wasn't there, this had been happening recently. Cormac would say he's in one place while being in another. Y/n heard it from friends and gossip around the school. So on this particular evening, it was incredibly frustrating. Y/n had to catch one of Cormac's quidditch teammates in the hall to ask where he could be. "He said he was with you, actually." his teammate said. "sorry." Y/n just smiled. disappointing. "it's not your fault. but thanks."
With a huge sigh, y/n decided to just head back to their cozy room to relax for the evening but to clear their head, y/n took the long way home, wandering around the winding corridors around campus. It was a peaceful walk, quiet and unbothered until y/n heard some voices in a small hallway nearing the Slytherin dungeon. hushed, secretive, quiet. Y/n heard the distinct sound of a muffled giggle, and someone whispering sweet nothings through a smile. Not wanting to be nosy, y/n considered turning back so as to not disturb them, immediately hiding in an adjacent corridor. but then, it was even more distinct. Cormac fucking McLaggen. "you know I really like you." he said, "We shouldn't be doing this... what about your girlfriend?" the girl smiled again, you could hear it in her voice. Y/N's heart sank. "Don't worry about her, I only care about you right now." Y/n, with tears in her eyes revealed themself. Cormac immediately pulled his arms away from the girl. It was a petite brunette girl in Cormac's Gryffindor sweater, y/n could tell because it was huge on the girl. The girl gasped, embarrassed. Cormac turned to y/n, "What are you doing here!" he stammered. Y/n had tears streaming down their face. "you were supposed to walk me home. you were supposed to be with me!" Y/n raised their voice in an emotional moment like this, all y/n wanted to do was lie down and cry. "Listen, it's not what it looks like... I- just," Cormac sighed running his hands through his hair. "we were just talking about an assignment, and-" He was cut off by y/n "Don't lie to me. You are so superficial. I can't stand you," The girl awkwardly started to walk away, not wanting to be involved in the situation at all, y/n didn't even know who she was, and couldn't exactly place her name. She was scarily familiar. Cormac was speechless, caught in the act. "Just leave me alone!" Y/n shouted, running off in tears, barely able to breathe. Cormac didn't bother to go after her. She was pacing forward quickly to get back to their room before anyone saw her like that, a total mess with tears streaming down her face, too upset to even think straight.
Thud! . . .
Y/N had run right into none other than Theodore Nott. Y/n looked up, their face was red, flushed and the tears stained their cheeks. without a word Theo embraced y/n tightly in comfort. "hey, Caro, it's okay." it was sentimental, comforting, and it felt safe. Y/n pulled back after a moment, catching their breath. "What happened?" Theo asked, there was a genuine worry in his tone. "I just caught Cormac in the hall with some girl." y/n sighed, breath shaking. "Y/n, I'm so sorry," Theo turned his head, he was sympathetic. but with how distant he had been y/n wasn't in the mood for romance like that anymore. "what are you doing here anyway," Y/n said, rubbing the tears from their tired eyes. "Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?". Theo shrugged. "she broke up with me." Y/N's expression hardened. "I'm sorry," y/n uttered quietly. "She said she was falling in love with someone else," Theo explained, attempting to turn the focus on his own issues for y/n's benefit to make them feel better about their own awful situation. "Astoria was right though, we just weren't right for each other." Y/n folded their arms in the chilly hall. It made sense Theo was wandering these halls, he was a Slytherin after all and he would often sneak around those halls to smoke cigarettes. "I'm not too upset over it, honestly. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her." Theo admitted. "why?" y/n asked, talking to Theo always made y/n feel better after a rough day. "I just don't love her the way I should, and honestly I've been thinking about someone else. She used a suffocating amount of hair products anyway," Theo chuckled, delighted to see y/n crack a small chuckle. "I'm not too down," he said. "I'm really sorry to hear that, teddy." y/n said. teddy was a nickname y/n had for him since they were first years, and no one else would dare call him that. "It's alright." y/n looked down. "So who is this someone else you're into these days?" Y/n offered, trying to continue the conversation. "well, it doesn't matter." Theo said quickly. "Shall I walk you back to your room?" he offered.
Theo walked y/n home that night, rather than their now ex-boyfriend. y/n was heartbroken, but their feelings for Theo weren't well hidden. y/n was a bit hurt hearing that Theo was supposedly in love with someone else, but it would take some time to heal, and it would certainly be one day at a time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------*I usually don't write part 2 for my writing but maybe if this is well received I'll pick up and start writing again, I've really enjoyed it. Let me know! :) hope you guys liked it.
#Theodore Nott#Theodore Nott x reader#Theodore Nott x y/n#hp#hp x reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#slytherin x reader#y/n#x reader#my writing#reader insert#x y/n
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Abandoned whumpee: Final 1/2
CW: Betrayal, team whump, whumper turned caretaker, assassination attempt, hurt/comfort, annggsst
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Whumper watched over whumpee all throughout the night. Whumpee would wake up, not remember where they were, then struggle until whumper soothed them back asleep.
Whumper knew the sleepless nights would catch up with them eventually. They downed a tall cup of coffee, hoping to stay awake until morning...
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Whumpee woke up that morning staring wide-eyed at whumper fast asleep on the bed with them. "Hey." Whumpee spoke, testfully poked whumper's arm. They groaned, but remained out cold.
Whumpee climbed over them and touched their bare foot to the floor, they immediately felt something cold as they flinched. There was spilt coffee at the foot of the bed along with an assortment of papers. They were badly stained, any information whumpee could have gleaned were long gone.
A silver key was dangling from whumper's pocket. If whumpee couldn't find information here, then there would be something elsewhere.
They clutched the key and snuck out of the infirmary. There were guards patrolling the halls as whumpee ducked around the corner. They let the guards pass, before slipping into the hall behind them. Whumpee tried every door they passed, all locked tight and the key fit none of them.
There was one last engraved door at the end of the hall. Whumpee heard the guards coming back around as they trembled and kept missing the keyhole. There was a silent *click* as the door swung open. Whumpee jumped in and shut the door behind them, taking a deep sigh of relief.
They stood in what seemed to be whumper's office; a large wooden desk, walls adorned with weapons, massive bookshelves. Everything whumpee expected whumper's office to look like, really.
They turned on a lamp and rooted through the desk. There were moundfuls of documents detailing whumpee's team. There were things here whumpee didn't even know... Things they weren't classified to know. They were told whumper was a murderer, someone who killed on sight; they took no prisoners and mercy was unheard of.
"Then why did you save me?" Whumpee whispered, looking at a framed picture of whumper proudly standing with their team. "Why capture me for intel if you had it already?"
In the depths of a drawer, whumpee found a roughly bound journal. It was branded with whumpee's team logo. They recognized it; each team carried one to document missions. Even whumpee had their own, though this one looked ancient...
They opened the first page before suddenly, the door opened and the lights flashed on. Whumpee gasped and dropped the book, frozen as they looked up like a deer in headlights. The person staring back had the very same expression. Horror, adrenaline, confusion.
-It was one of whumpee's teammates, dressed darkly and hooded as they took an astonished step towards whumpee.
"Whumpee? You're alive?" They whispered. "How? We thought they killed you." They gasped. Whumpee covered their mouth and clambered back to their feet. They were flooded with relief seeing a friendly face. They tried to figure out how to say a million words in a single breath.
"It's a long story-" Whumpee heaved, "I've been kept here by whumper, I got hurt in the attack and I-I was bleeding out and I was-" Whumpee trailed off with a flicker of doubt. They knew their team would think whumpee betrayed them if they were found alive in whumper's custody. The amount of intel that could be tortured out of them...
"I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't looking right at you." Their teammate filled in the silence, taking a step closer. "To think all this time, you survived..."
They didn't sound happy. Both of their eyes dropped to the journal between their feet, branded with their symbol.
"Ah, I see... So you found it." Their teammate stared.
"Found what? What have you not told me?" Whumpee demanded.
They crouched down to pick up the book, as they heard a *sswick* of a blade being unsheathed. Whumpee stopped in their tracks. They slowly looked up and stared into the tip of a blade and the eyes of someone who was no ally.
"I really am sorry." Their teammate whispered softly. "But you died that day, whumpee. It has to stay that way, for the good of all of us. You understand, don't you?" They took a step closer as whumpee snatched the book in their arms and backed away.
"Oh, come on, don't make this difficult. You've died once for us already. You can do it one more time, can't you?" They tilted their head.
"Can't I know why?" Whumpee's voice broke as their back hit the wall. "I- I didn't give you up, I didn't tell whumper anything. They weren't even what I thought they were... They weren't what you told me!" Whumpee suddenly shouted.
"I'm sure you didn't, you were always loyal. But it was never about that."
The blade came to their throat as whumpee shuttered and closed their eyes. The sound of a blade piercing flesh, a hot splatter of blood hit their chest, yet they felt nothing but cold adrenaline.
There was hollow silence. Whumpee opened their eyes, their teammate's face was blank as they sunk to the floor on their knees. Their silhouette was replaced by whumper, holding a dripping blade with a look of pure hatred.
"They dare set foot in my house!?" Whumper shouted. Their eyes suddenly darted to whumpee, who flinched. Their back was to the corner, face stained with blood, they trembled while hugging the journal to their chest.
"How did you get- ... No, one thing at a time." Whumper stopped themselves, putting the blade out of sight. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" They asked instead, nudging the corpse off their feet.
"I'm- ... I'm not hurt." Whumpee responded rapidly, trying not to show they were gasping for breath. "They were going to k-kill me." Whumpee touched their fingers to their chest where their teammates blood was splattered. "And you just... S-saved my life..."
"As much as I want to gloat and say I told you so- I'm just glad I got here when I did. Come with me, let's get you changed and we'll talk." Whumper held out their hand.
To be continued, 2/2
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@parasitebunny @starzabove @frog-hat-fa-ggot @morning-star-whump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @mommymarichatfurever @isita-torrrres @tobiaslut @anonintrovert @sausages-things
#I'm going to try and conclude the rest of the story in one more final chapter.#whumper#team whump#whump#whump writing#whump stories#whump assassination attempt#caretaking#comfort whump#hurt/comfort#betrayal whump#whump angst#whumper turned caretaker#soft whumper#caring whumper#defiant whumpee#whump escape attempt#whumpee#captured whumpee
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Back Off
Summary; Billy won't leave Lucas alone, the Chief's eldest daughter has had enough! Pairing; Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader WordCount; 512 Warnings; Mentions of violence, A/N; Hey lovelies, my requests are open and my guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!
Billy strode through the parking lot full of swagger, confidence and arrogance. He couldn't see the hurricane marching toward him. You were mad. Beyond that. You were fuming. Billy had threatened Lucas again. You were tired of him sauntering around the place. "Hey, Hargrove!" The crowd parted in the middle, Billy turned with a smirk on his face. "Princess." "You don't call me that! Do you enjoy picking on little kids? Does it make you feel powerful does it?" Suddenly Billy was face to face with you, your eyes were fiery, standing mere inches from him. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Are those jeans cutting off your blood circulation? I'm talking about you threatening Lucas at the arcade." "See all I heard was you'd been admiring me, Sweetheart." With a quick swing of your fist, you punched Billy connecting with his jaw. Billy landed on the ground, and suddenly a crowd gathered. A chorus of O's added to the already bubbling tension. "Chief Hopper's Daughter finally got some punk to her. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to know what you've done." "Who do you think taught me how to punch? Stay away from those kids."
Several days passed. Hawkins High buzzed about the altercation the other day. You were keeping an eye on Billy. You didn't trust him. "Hey, can you take the kids to the arcade? I've got a date tonight." Steve asked you as the ell rang signalling the end of the day. "Sure what time am I picking them up?" "Around five." With a nod, you left to get home before you had to go and pick up the misfits.
"Do I need to remind you not to punch Hargrove?" Your father asked while you were slipping on your boots and jacket. "No, but I'm tired of harassing Lucas." Jim sighed as he stepped closer to you. "Kid, I don't care if you give him a verbal beatdown. Honestly, he deserves it. But you know someday he'll get his comeuppance. So whatever you do don't lay your hands on Hargrove got it."
The arcade was busy. Expected on a Friday night. The kids were off doing their own thing as were you. You kept an eye out for the most part. You were trying to make the most of your Friday night. "Stay away from my sister Sinclair, or you'll regret it." You moved away from Pac-Man, heading directly in Lucas's direction. He held Lucas by the collar. "How about you stay away from him or was one black eye not enough? Lucas, are you okay?" "Looks like you need a girl to fight your battles." "Looks like you need to pick on someone younger than you. Does it make you feel big and powerful? Clearly, you're lacking elsewhere. You should want to be like Lucas. He's good, kind and loyal to his friends. He's the type of person you should aim to be. Not someone like you who uses their looks to hide their inner ugliness." Billy's eyes widened as he left without saying a word.
#stranger things imagine#stranger things imagines#stranger things one shot#stranger things oneshot#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove one shot#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove x reader#Drabble#Requests are open!
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all my thoughts, they're shaped like you: huh yunjin x fem! reader
request: i was wondering if you could write smth about yunjin and reader having a sleepover? it can be a smut or not js however you'd like <3
a/n: i decided to write this as sfw instead of smut just bc im...not confident in my smut writing abilities rn so i hope this will suffice! enjoy and thank you so much for requesting. *please note all pictures and videos are used for creative reference to give readers a visual of hair, makeup, clothes, shoes, etc. ONLY*
guilty was your first comeback in six months and by far your most successful since your debut four years ago. originally the song was to go to one of your seniors, but it was pushed your way when another caught his attention. the song was much more mature than the other songs you'd put out in the past which increased attention towards this new side of you as an artist. the past four weeks were filled with long schedules of music and variety show appearances, photoshoots, and too many fansigns to count. however, today was the last day of schedules before you got a two week long break to rest and recover.
you stood in front of your manager who was pressing you to take pictures for instagram before you got whisked away elsewhere. he smiled as you posed and the rest of your staff members made positive comments about you and your performance outfit. you didn't even bother settling back into your dressing room because not even two seconds later there was a knock at the door. you rushed over to open it and a small face peeked through as you beamed from ear to ear.
eunchae shyly greeted your staff members and you before she stepped back and onced you over with a gasp, "you're so pretty!" you reached forward and pulled her into a hug, "you're so precious oh my god." she giggled and led you down the hallway to the room where she films Eunchae's Star Diary. when you both got inside she motioned for you to sit down and she followed behind you.
for a moment there was silence after you introduced yourself before you and eunchae began laughing and you admitted in english, "i'm sorry i don't want to be awkward...it's this is just a little funny to me because we've never actually met." eunchae agreed and answered in korean, "yeah this is our first time meeting, but i feel like i know about you a lot because yunjin unnie talks about you all the time." similar to a professional she continued, "with your new comeback, can you tell us a little bit about the album and your favorite song?" you nodded and explained more professionally, "guilty is my first album since six months ago. it's also a different sound than what i've put out before. this time i wanted to focus on something that everyone can connect with."
eunchae looked at you with wide eyes and prompted you to continue so you added, "guilt is an emotion that everyone has to some extent or another. it's a feeling that has a negative connotation and that's something i wanted to change. of course singing about positive things is good, but i think singing about negative things and presenting them in a beautiful way is equally as important. more specifically, my single guilty’ is about a selfish love that hurts the other person. it’s not coming from my experience, but i used it as a way to define what love is and express it on stage.”
the younger girl looked at you and sighed, "everything you say sounds so smart." you laughed and shyly dismissed the complement out of habit before she asked you, "who was the first person to hear the single?" you side eyed her and she grinned because she already knew the answer but for the sake of her show you sighed, "huh yunjin of le sserafim." eunchae pointed and laughed at your facial expression and you playfully rolled your eyes but she shared happily, "yunjin unnie has been singing the song nonstop since it came out. when it dropped she was telling all of us in the dorm that she heard it first! she kept bragging that it was so good but didn't tell us any hints! but it was worth the wait because the comeback is incredible, unnie!" heat bloomed in your chest at the thought of yunjin listening to your music and bragging about how talented you were to those closest to her.
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the minute you got back into your apartment after your schedule all of your messages came rushing into your notifications. your best friends had blown up your phone all day which honestly wasn't new, but scrolling through 100+ messages was kinda annoying when you were tired. then, like clockwork your phone started ringing and you answered to see one of your best friends on your screen, "hey i don't know if you saw somi's texts or not but we're having a sleepover at your place tonight." immediately you responded, "who is we? you speak french now?" on the other line she laughed and said, "don't be like that y/n."
you whined, "aeri! i just finished promotions im TIRED! and why my place and not somi's?" aeri let out a small huff and said, "somi's apartment flooded like ten minutes ago so we can't stay there. you know the rest of us aren't allowed people to stay overni-" you cut her off immediately, "hold on it's not just you and somi?" aeri looked off to the side and bit her lip, "uh...so funny story..." before she could answer someone snatched her phone and continued, "jen is coming too." you spat out the water you were sipping, "WHY WOULD YOU INVITE YUNJIN?!" somi answered casually, not taking her eyes off of the road, "i thought you would've worked stuff out by now. besides it's kinda shitty if we have a sleepover and exclude one person. it's called a friend group for a reason, right?" you huffed, "yeah i guess..."
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the friend group started just as you and giselle when she entered SM entertainment back in December of 2019. the two of you clicked immediately even though you were technically her senior, having debuted that past summer. along with her members, they were the only girls close to your age in the entire company so you were quick to befriend them as soon as you were allowed. months after meeting giselle, you met somi who debuted a month before you as a soloist. then you introduced the two and the three of you were a trio of best friends...until yunjin came into the picture.
you and yunjin were familiar with one another but you only met once at a music show when you were promoting at the same time. from there you introduced her to somi and aeri, and she was added into the friend group. once you added her into the small bunch of friends you all were complete, and dubbed, The Plastics, by fans.
for the most part everything was fine with you four except that there were times when it was hard to meet up because of busy schedules. however, you started trying to distance yourself a bit when you realized that you had a crush on yunjin. the cardinal rule of friend groups was don't date other people in the same group. despite aeri and somi swearing up and down to you that yunjin liked you back, you refused to feed into it. your best friends weren't liars but you just couldn't bring yourself to believe them for whatever reason. besides even if you confessed to yunjin you didn't think much would come of it besides a ruined friend group. so you decided that you were just going to continue trying to compartmentalize your feelings and gaslighting yourself into thinking you didn't like her.
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you ran to your room trying to get everything ready for your friends, the least you could do is have a clean apartment. the vaccuum drowned out the sounds of the city streets below your building as you dragged it across your area rug. you hummed along to oceanfromtheblue that blasted through your headphones, further muting the noise from the outside world. unbeknownst to you, yunjin had already entered your apartment. she got in using the 10 digit code on your door that she memorized just in case because that's what friends do...right?
a pair of hands gently caught your hips as you backed up with the vaccuum in hand making you scream and jump. you whipped around to see yunjin standing before you looking perfect as usual. she was only in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie with those ugg slippers she liked to leave in your apartment for when she visited you. even in a basic dressed down outfit she still looked like an angel with her red hair pulled into a messy bun with a few loose strands framing her face. the pair of glasses she wore sat low on her nose causing her to push them up before pulling you into a hug. she laughed and apologized, "y/n i'm sorry! i called out your name a few times i thought you would have heard me." you let out the breath you'd been holding and assured her, "no it's fine i shouldn't have had my headphones this loud..."
there was an awkward silence and her eyes found yours bringing out a pinkish hue to her cheeks that was only reserved for you. her hands remained on your hips and you brushed a piece of her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. the simple action sent butterflies straight to her stomach and made her catch her lip between her teeth. neither of you knew where this was headed but right before you two could figure it out, the front door swing open and aeri entered with somi, "HEY BITCHES- oh." the two of you jumped and yunjin inched away from you, "heyyyy!" somi motioned between the two of you, "did we just interrupt something or?" immediately you refused, "no we were just um... yeah anyways hey guys." you paused and realized the two let themselves in, "wait- how did you two get inside?" yunjin and your manager were the only two people who knew the password for your apartment so how did they manage to get in?"
somi pointed to her phone and said, "i wrote it down the last time yunjin and i were over. the real question is why does yunjin know it and we don't. i thought we were friends." the blonde placed her hands on her hips and pouted to which aeri added, "how do you even remember all those numbers anyways?" yunjin responded, "i memorized it after seeing y/n do it once. and it's not hard, i just remember important things." both aeri and somi shared a glance and you joked, "so basically i need to make a new passcode. got it." the three of them laughed and put their bags down so you could start your plans for the night.
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yunjin pulled out a vlogging camera from her bag and said, "i know we usually have a 'no work stuff' policy for our hangouts but i have to vlog and this is the only interesting thing i've done all week." your other friends started getting baking utensils and ingredients out of your pantry and cabinets while you preheated your oven.
the american idol stood in front of the camera and started speaking, "hi everyone! today i'm with my friends- and we're going to do the blind, mute, deaf challenge while cooking. y/n is being so kind to let us use her kitchen today!" you fake side eyed her and muttered, "you all showed up on my doorstep unannounced but okay." the three laughed and finished setting up the things you'd need.
since it was yunjin's vlog she decided how roles were split up and it was through rock paper scissors: aeri was deaf, somi and you were blind, yunjin was mute. for the sake of your kitchen and everyone's safety she decided to have two people who weren't allowed to speak. before starting the challenge yunjin explained, "so we already have the roles assigned. basically we are going to try to cook dinner together with our roles and we aren't allowed to switch or break character. so aeri is deaf- she already has her headphones on." she pointed the camera to aeri who was in her own world listening to some tyga song on blast, not paying attention to anyone else. yunjin continued, "somi and y/n are blind- wait do we have a blindfold?" she turned to you and you shook your head, "why would i have a blindfold? somi smirked and winked, "i have many blindfolds." yunjin slapped her arm and she laughed, "what?" you huffed in fake annoyance, "we should have made her one of the mute ones. yunjin finished explaining, "and i'm mute so i'm going to be silent because i didn't want to tape my face. anyways, aeri is the only one that can see the recipe and we have to follow her directions." you ended up finding two scarves in one of your drawers to tie around your and somi's heads and you all started the challenge.
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"OKAY! BOIL THE POT OF WATER!" aeri shouted loudly making you flinch at the sudden outburst. you reached your hands in front of you as you cautiously dug a pot out from your cabinet and placed it in somi's hands. the blonde started to slowly walk to your sink, hitting the front of it with a soft thud and a whine while the rest of you laughed. somi filled the pot up and gently walked it back with the help of yunjin before she turned on the stove. the rest of it went like this, yunjin slightly helping you while aeri screamed the directions to you all.
when it came to cutting the chicken somi backed away from the counter, "i don't wanna touch it ew." you muttered, "you big baby." aeri asked in confusion, "YOU SAID YOU HATE ME?" the three of you burst out laughing while aeri stood still confused, looking around then into yunjin's camera as if it would talk back to her. you stood in front of the cutting board with the raw chicken and grabbed the knife that was within reach. you thought aloud, "this is probably a bad idea having the blind one do this part of the challenge but...i have bandaids."
somi was busy trying to drain the pasta from the water with the help of aeri guiding her as yunjin nervously watched you handle the knife and raw meat. yunjin tensed as she watched you nearly cut your finger once and then placed a hand on your arm. this time you didn't jump at her touch and let her come behind you. her hands placed gently atop yours and you giggled before playfully asking, "oh my god what is this? so romantic." beside you somi and aeri pretended to gag, somi not even facing the right direction as she teased you. when you both finished cutting the meat, yunjin moved from behind you and immediately you missed her body pressed against yours.
the remainder of you all cooking was a hot mess. from aeri forgetting she was in charge of instructions to take mini dance breaks, to somi trying to spoon in pasta water into the sauce with a fork by accident, yunjin trying to mime out her questions about the recipe to aeri, and you walking smack into the open refrigerator door- the whole thing was a mess. but an entertaining one that fans would love to watch once it was uploaded. somehow by some miracle you all managed to make the food exactly how it was supposed to taste which paid off at the end.
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hours passed and aeri and somi had fallen asleep after crying their eyes out to the notebook that just finished playing. you poked aeri with your foot and her head lolled to the side limply making you and yunjin laugh. you pointed to your tv and asked, "did you like the movie?" the red aired woman nodded and mumbled quietly, "yeah, it was good. i understand the hype now but it was sad too. i love a happy ending but leading up to it was sad, you know?" you agreed and admitted, "i was mad when they made me watch it for the first time so you're better than me. all of that emotion just for me to get something kinda nice at the end, it was exhausting." she hummed in agreement and you both fell silent.
yunjin's hands brushed your hair gently, the softness of your silk press beneath her fingers was different from the way you usually wore it. unlike when most people touched your hair, you didn't pull away or dodge her hands running through the strands. instead you scooted closer to her and smiled when she began dutch braiding one of the sides on your head. the two of you basked in the quiet which was the first of it's kind tonight.
there was a small snag in your hair that caused you to almost whimper when her long fingers tugged at it. yunjin murmured an apology and pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before continuing. she then spoke up, "imagine just...forgetting who you are and everyone you love like that."
you didn't think before answering, "i almost did. when i left home and came here. i was around people that said i needed to leave my old life behind if i wanted to be successful here. i was naive and thought it was true, that my past would hold me back so i tried to let it all go. i only realized they were wrong after i was all alone." yunjin began braiding the other side of your head and asked, "so how'd you fix it?" you answered, "i met people who were like me and i made friends and talked to people. i tried to do things that reminded me of home, like being around you guys." yunjin finished your two braids and you turned around to see her smiling at you fondly. she could see the slight pain hidden behind your gaze as you recall one of the harder times in your life.
yunjin sighed and blurted out, "you smell like home." for a moment she froze and you pulled away and asked, "like new york? cuz that's not a complement if i smell like a new york street." yunjin laughed and answered nervously, "no you just...i don't know you're just- whenever i'm with you i feel at home." she moved down to the floor mattress you laid out earlier that night, knowing somi and aeri would be laid out on the couch like they are now.
you laid side by side as you told yunjin, "it feels like that with you too, like i'm back in the states just living without worries like now." yunjin bit her lip debating on if she wanted to do this now, but she caved into herself, "that's not what i meant but it's okay." you turned to face her, now laying on your side as you asked, "what did you mean then?"
yunjin felt her heart begin to race and she tried to brush it off, "no there's nothing." but you were determined to understand what she meant so you asked, "no, talk to me. what's going on in your head? tell me. i want to know, i want to know everything about you." of course yunjin knew that you weren't ever going to force her to speak, so she still had an out if she wanted to just not continue the conversation. however, she was tired doing this same dance with you where she almost admitted her feelings then ran away at the last minute. she knew that even if you didn't feel the same way that you wouldn't let that ruin the friendship you already have so she bit the bullet.
there was a pause then yunjin huffed and confessed "when i'm with you i feel safe, like i have nothing to worry about. i can just be myself and i know you'll never judge me or leave because i express myself the way i want to. whenever i'm not with you, you're still living in my head...all of my thoughts, they're shaped like you. i love you and i love being around you and being with you and i never want to leave your side which is why i try not to come too close because i can't risk fucking this up. but here i am telling you what i told myself i'd take to the grave so...just promise me if this screwed everything up and judging by your silence i think it did- just pretend it never happened and leave somi and aeri out of thi-" you refused to let her talk herself into thinking she ruined everything, "i love you too."
yunjin's breath caught in her throat and you repeated, "i love you too, huh yunjin. i love you so much and i love being around you and with you too." she sat up so she was upright then looked back down at you until you were sitting beside her. the small nightlight on your hallway outlet was the only thing allowing you to see her eyes locked on yours. you inched closer to her and brought your arms to rest on her shoulders while her hands were on your waist. her long fingernails scratched the ribbing of your tank top while your fingers twirled with a piece of her hair.
her forehead pressed against yours and you whispered, "what does this make us then?" yunjin shrugged and giggled which made you smile, "i dunno but we can figure it out together?" you asked, "yeah?" she nodded and you noticed how she eyed your two friends who were asleep tangled together yet half off the couch. she looked back at you and asked, "so when do we tell them?" you scrunched your nose and placed a gentle peck on yunjin's lips. the red haired woman paused then kissed you twice more, "who says we have to?" right when you pressed your lips against hers for the last time, a bright flash lit up your entire living room. you both looked over and aeri smacked somi's arm as she soft whisper yelled, "what part of NO FLASH did you not understand?" the two smiled as big as they could from ear to ear before yunjin let out a huff and sighed, "you all suck."
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