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#-the one to make this. no one wants a reminder of their shortcomings.. and one could certainly see their failure to make this child happy-
fvsm4x · 5 months
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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]
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SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.
— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+
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„I think we should break up.“
Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.
“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.
Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.
A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.
As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.
But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.
How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?
But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.
And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”
You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.
“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”
You looked at him, surprised by his words.
“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”
As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.
You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.
As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.
Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.
As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."
His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.
As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.
He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.
"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,
With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.
As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.
-
In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.
In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.
It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.
What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.
Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.
The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.
But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.
His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.
To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.
Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.
However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.
As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.
But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.
Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.
Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.
However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.
Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.
And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.
And that's when you became a couple.
But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.
You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?
Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.
You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.
The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.
With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.
The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.
You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.
Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.
Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.
As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.
-
Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.
You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,
The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.
You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.
You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.
As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.
Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.
In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.
But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.
As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.
You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.
A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.
As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.
You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.
Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.
Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.
It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.
She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.
But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.
You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.
"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.
„It was an accident-“
He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“
„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke
„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"
Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.
Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.
You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.
„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.
Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.
With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.
„Call the manager.“
Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.
She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.
Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.
Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,
"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,
With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.
Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.
"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.
As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.
Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.
After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.
As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.
"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."
„Sure“ the girl replied.
-
Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.
As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.
“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”
The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”
Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.
“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”
The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.
Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.
Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.
"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.
A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,
“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”
The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?
“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.
“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.
“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.
“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”
“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,
“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.
“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.
“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,
His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."
Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"
Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.
A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."
„But-!“
„No buts.“
"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."
He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."
He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.
You nodded and followed after him.
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lavender-romancer · 1 month
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Starving
Astarion x (Durge) Reader
CW: angst, fluff, sexual tones
He needed you. But in his dark pit of starvation he feared he pushed you away past the point of return.
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*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*
You didn't seek love in Astarion no matter how much you wanted it. What would affection and adoration do for him when what he really needed was a friend, a confidante. Someone he would never think was using him. After so many years of abuse that violated his very understanding of intimacy and consent, you wouldn't dream of overstepping any boundary in existence. Trying to talk him off a metaphorical ledge of ostracism was more important than physical urges. He didn't need to feel alone or terrified someone would hurt him again. Whilst Astarion could easily protect himself, you decided that when he wasn't hiding in the shadows you would protect him from any enemy he came across.
After saving Faerûn the two of you had decided to live together, much to Astarions confusion, you wanted to stay close to him. Offer up your blood freely to him and create somewhere that felt safe for him. He was still plagued with nightmares, but you began reading deeper into alchemy to try and help him through his trances.
He never understood why you were so supportive of him. 200 years and he never met anyone so genuinely dedicated without expecting much in return. All you asked was that he wouldn't run away if they had an argument and that he wouldn't feed on any other people. It was simple and there was a deep rooted respect between the both of you no matter how much you flirted with one another, there was a boundary. It had never been crossed, he had never been touched without giving his consent, just as Astarion would never touch you or bite you without consent.
Why you had decided to help and live with him after everything that happened was beyond him. Why not Shadowheart? Or maybe Halsin? Even Gale would- Astarion had to stop himself in thought as he remembered how utterly boring he found Gale. He was much better company, even with a very slight fondness for the wizard, Gale was hardly a casual conversationalist. Mostly resorting to threats about hurling a fireball at someone or casually reminding everyone he was a walking bomb. No, Astarion was more fun. Maybe that was why you liked being around him? But he had become so comfortable with you, he found it so easy to talk about his past when the two of you would sit by the fire in your respective arm chairs and read.
Those moments in front of the crackling logs were monumentally special to him, he had no idea how to express his gratitude
You expected so little, asked for much less and respected him. Whenever he would make a mistake or break something he would immediately start profusely apologising, still mentally conditioned to expect a physical punishment regardless of remorse. But all you did was ask for his help to clean up the mess and you both moved on, you were two barely functioning adults but seemed to help one another. You still remembered little from your past, your childhood or anything in between but helping Astarion gave you a purpose that mattered. It was hard to focus on your own shortcomings when you had a whiny (bitchy) vampire to live with and help. But it worked. The two of you were trying to be normal and doubted that you could on your own.
Whilst the two of you had your own demons you were in a pact of some sorts, neither of you wanted to leave the other to deal with those demons alone. Your other companions were constantly confused by whatever your relationship was. Assuming it was romantic and sexual but, being even more confused upon finding out it wasn't. There was always a feeling something would happen between the two of you, but neither you, nor Astarion would admit it. Both of you too scared that you would lose the other forever if anything romantic happened.
“What wine would you like?” You asked, walking into the front room holding two bottles of red. Astarion was sitting in his armchair illuminated by the fire. The orange hue danced around the shadows of his face and it made you want to take him in your arms and never let go.
“Whatever is older, darling. Things do rather improve with age you know.” Astarion replied with a slight smirk and you rolled your eyes.
He couldn't take his eyes off you as you left, the way you leant against the doorway showed the curve of your stomach and hips. Astarion had to snap his brain out of it as he realised he was staring at the curve of your breasts as you turned to leave. Why was he so unbearably horny today? He supposed it was the night that he usually fed on you. Maybe his bloodlust created a different kind of lust all together? He had been admiring you like this for too long now, it couldn't be bloodlust that made his cock twitch and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sparing quick looks as you made a confused face when you were reading and got to a word you struggled with, he loved when you would ask for help so openly and without shame . It was something he desperately envied about your character. Your nose would sometimes scrunch up when he would tell you how to pronounce the word because apparently it was “stupid to have silent letters”. But recently, especially when he had been feeding on you, he couldn't stop wanting to touch you. He wanted to pull you close and never let you go, fuck you for hours and never leave your side.
“I made something for you. Well. Decanted I suppose.” You walked back into the front room with two goblets of wine and a vial of something tucked under your arm.
“What's that?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. After setting the goblets down you handed the vial to him. He already knew what it was before looking more closely, he could smell it. Your beautiful sweet blood.
“For your convenience.” You smiled down at Astarion but he didn't look best pleased. You thought this might be easier, at least for you. Everytime he fed on you all you wanted was to touch him, get some kind of friction because to your shame it made you so ridiculously aroused.
“When did you…” his voice trailed off and your palms began to sweat.
“Do you not like the idea?” You asked sheepishly, ready to snatch the vial back.
“Well, darling, the feeding process is a nice experience and it…” he was trying to find any words to retain the physical closeness you had whilst feeding. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you last time it happened?”
“What makes you ask that?” You sat down in the armchair adjacent to his.
“I…” He felt if he opened up that things would never be the same. So it was easier to close everything off again. “If you would like to change things I can go back to stalking other pretty things in the night.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Sometimes you're impossible. This is more convenient for when I'm not here or when I-”
“When you eventually leave, you mean.” The words crawled out of his mouth with such malice.
“I did not say that, Astarion. Stop acting like a child and communicate!” You yelled back as the heat rose into your face and your eyes began to prick.
“Oh shall I get on my knees and pray to the saint that has allowed me to exist with her blood? There are plenty of places I can get it if you won't offer up your neck for free!” He fired back, getting just as riled up.
“I'm freely giving you my fucking blood! I'm still giving it to you. What difference does it make? I try so hard. So fucking hard to make you feel secure and understood but you react to everything like a child!” You stood up and walked a few paces towards the fire with your back to him.
“I didn't realise I was such an inconvenience in your pretty little head.” Astarion almost laughed, a petty attempt to get a rise out of you when he was quickly running out of options to keep you close to him. You stayed quiet for a moment, one hand on your stomach, the other leaning on the mantle above the fire as if you were bracing yourself for the pain to follow.
“I just want the best for you. For our friendship and I…” your voice broke as you choked down the urge to sob.
“Yes, our precious friendship.” He sounded so vindictive that you wondered if he really cared about you at all.
“Do you not want it? Our friendship?” Your voice was so small and defeated.
“Oh, making me the bastard in this situation is just pathetic. After two hundred years of pure shit where I was always in the wrong and punished for it I don't want to hear it anymore!” He roared back at you. When he stood up you actually flinched, a fleeting thought crossed your mind that this was when he would ignore every warning and just drink you dry.
“I-” You tried to speak but you couldn't. All you wanted was to cry, just let it all out because the emotions were too much for you to carry anymore. The carnal desire you felt for him, the deep and earnest care you felt and the sense of responsibility for his well being. It always seemed that you were in control when really he held all the cards.
“Fucking hells.” Astarion muttered angrily before storming upstairs. You could finally sit back in your chair and cry.
Staring into the flames that usually brought you so much comfort but now, they just made you yearn for a life that was never lived. So long ago he said you were the only person he had ever truly cared about, that he would never hurt you and never leave your side. Those longing looks you'd steal when he'd laugh or the way you played into his flirting from the first day you met him. To this day you remembered nothing before the nautiloid, but, you knew Astarion. You knew he'd be there when you came home and would listen to your anxieties. He had always been in your life as far as you were concerned. So why had everything changed over something so ridiculous as the way you gave him your blood?
You pulled your knees up to your chest and sobbed, he wouldn't be there when you woke up and you knew it was all over. He's gone now, he's running away from your grasp and you'll never get him back no matter what you want from him- the voices in your head told you. You hit your forehead repeatedly trying to get them to shut up but they wouldn't subside. Why did you ever think he loved you? That he needed you for more than a pretty little snack? You wait around hoping he'll take more fucking interest in you when he wants nothing more than your beautiful blood. You should drain him of every drop in his body. It would serve him right, the decimation of a monster.
You wanted to scream. To pull out your brain and scrub out the voices, hurt yourself to a point where you would no longer care about what Astarion did to you. But how could any pain, any anguish overcome the love you felt for him? The Urge. The Urge was clawing it's way out of the depths of your psyche. How could it really be gone when it had penetrated every memory you currently held. You didn't know life without the torturous spasms and depraved thoughts. You thought they might end with the death of your butler but, no. The Urge was ever present.
The fire crackled and lit the shadows of the room, yet you couldn't feel its warmth as you sat cold and alone. He was your warmth, your sun, your stars. Whenever you spoke to him your day would be brighter and your head clearer. Seeing him would make you smile and make you feel safe. You cursed yourself, you should never have been so dependent.
He felt like shit. Utter shit. Why had he exploded like that? What was the point when you didn't do anything wrong, it was your neck he drank from and yet he felt some kind of authority? No, it was not his place nor his decision and he really did feel like the fucking idiot. As he was about to leave his room to apologise he heard it. The noise that haunted him whenever he heard it. Your sobs, that permeated into his soul and made his dead heart ache. He adored you so deeply that whenever it felt like you were pulling away he would double down on harshness. It made him feel in control of the situation because, if he was the first to leave then he won.
Astarion sat down quietly on the stairs. Wanting to wait till your sobs subsided but they seemed full of a sadness that would never subside. All you ever did was help him, try to find a way for him to walk in the sun, sate his bloodthirst and yet… sometimes in his irrational brain it felt like you were trying to find a way to fix him so you could leave. When he was broken you could fix him in a never ending loop. But as soon as he was put back together there was no reason for the two of you to exist together. He would never get to be close to you, never touch you or hear you laugh. But now, due to his own stupidity you would leave anyway but this time with hatred for him.
Just his luck that he would be turned into a monstrous vampire, be threatened with turning into a mindflayer but the true evil was always inside of him. It felt ridiculous when he pondered on it. He was so at home here with you, so comfortable and safe but it was never enough. The evil inside of him would always rise up and ruin everything around him.
He felt like such a fucking bastard to make you cry. Make you feel so lonely that you would feel the need to cry, which you rarely did. Once or twice in the many years you'd known one another he had held you as you cried. Whispered words of support and affirmation as he held you close, it was such a rarity that he reminisced on those moments more than he cared to admit. Being able to be a comfort to you was ridiculously cathartic for him.
For centuries he had been a death sentence to everyone he got close to. Cazadors favourite errand boy, collecting lost pretty souls for him to gorge his ascension depravity on. He would never overcome that guilt, not that he should- it was his cross to bear. But being your comfort, your home… it made it all less soul crushing. When Astarion was with you he felt worthy, like he had a purpose to be your protector when you were really his. He felt safe and respected and if he ruined that then maybe he deserved to step into the sun.
Deciding it would be better if he slipped away quietly he waited for your sobs to subside. Suspecting you were asleep he crept down the stairs and stayed to the back wall, hoping to avoid his shadow being plastered on the wall in front of you.
“Is this it then?” You said quietly and it surprised even Astarion that his hiding skills had become so lax of late.
“What?” Was all he could say, bewildered at why you would care if he would leave.
“Is this it? Are you leaving me?” You slowly stood up and faced him, your eyes still watering.
“I thought it might be easier if I left when I thought you were asleep. It appears my hiding deficiency needs some serious attention.” He tried to smile and make some joke to thinly veil his panic.
“Please. Don't, Astarion.” You took one step closer to him and he wasn't sure if you were referring to him leaving or the poorly timed joke. The silence continued into what felt like hours to him. Having no clue what the right response would be, he could only remain quiet and hope that you wouldn't tell him to leave.
“Do you want to leave?” You asked, looking down at the floor and trying to hide the very clear tears in your eyes.
“I- if it would be best for you then I will.” Astarion was teetering between each foot, one closer to you and the other closer to the door. Maybe if he left now it would all be less painful, he could learn to forget you. But if he stayed, what if you grew to hate him? He couldn't survive it.
“But do you want to leave?” You asked again, surprised by your pleading tone.
“I don't know.” Was all he said and it was enough for you to lose all hope, you wanted to cry until it hurt but it wasn't fair on him. If he wanted to leave then you shouldn't be restricting him.
“If this is the last time I ever see you, I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the best thing for our friendship because I couldn't remain your friend and-” You interrupted yourself, because it wasn't fair to practically guilt trip him.
“In all the time I have known you, you have only made decisions to better others. But, what do you want?” Astarion turned to fully face you, no longer edging towards the door.
All you wanted to say was that you wanted him. You just wanted him, in whatever form that would take it didn't matter as long as he stayed. You could remain friends, though you'd always crave more but, it was better than never seeing him again.
“I want,” you paused, pondering on a response that wouldn't send him running away into the night. “I want you to be happy.” Astarion looked at the floor and smiled.
“My ever generous confidante. That can't be the only thing you desire, the only thing that you want. My happiness is inconsequential compared to your own.” He wanted to reach out, show that you didn't have to worry about him. Prove that he could stand on his own without needing you but he wasn't so sure it was true. The constant insecurities he had were only amplified by the possibility that you would see his shortcomings and push him away.
“Inconsequential? How can you even consider that? I care about you more than myself sometimes and I don't see it as a weakness. We support one another, help one another and what is the point of any of this if I have to pretend that something matters more to me than your happiness? You have no idea how important you are, how loved.” You said it without thinking and the fear was evident in your eyes to Astarion as he had the same look on his own face.
As much as he wanted your adoration, your love? It absolutely terrified him. Was it all just bloodlust? Was he using you as some willing blood bag? If he stopped feeding on you at any point would it all fade away into nothingness and he'd realise none of it was love, it was his insatiable hunger? The silence between the two of you felt cursed, the one to break it would have to be a stronger man than he was because he was too scared to say a word. Rooted in place, not able to flee because of that look in your eyes. He couldn't leave whilst you looked so terrified, he had an urge to take you in his arms. But he didn't, he stayed in place
“Astarion?” You sounded terrified.
“Your life would be so much easier without me.” He sounded so genuinely exasperated, unable to understand why you would want him in your life. His eyes welled up and he looked so beautiful in the light of the fire and, you couldn't help but feel more drawn to him.
“And?” You replied, more determined than ever to prove how you cared for him.
“That's all you have to say?” He asked and you nodded, it elicited a laugh from him that sounded hollow and yet relieved.
“You make my life better. It feels enriched and happy, you are the only person who calms me and comforts me. The only one I am completely comfortable with, the only one I want to be around this much.” you held one of his hands tentatively.
“You’re shaking, darling.” Astarion softly told you, leading you to your armchair and sitting you down.
“If your only reason is that it is better for me, please stay. I want you to stay here with me and we can carry on as we always have and-” he stopped you mid sentence putting a hand up.
“I don't think we can continue as we always have my darling.” He let out a sigh and you dug your nails into the arm of the chair.
“Then…what do we do?” You asked, still feeling like you were shaking and feeling even more pathetic by the minute.
“I mean, I don't know how any of this works, what comes next or what you exactly want from me.” whilst he couldn't reach your gaze he didn't seem upset.
“Well what do you want from me?” Your voice was strained and anxious, you were so completely convinced he would tell you that he wanted space from you.
“More, more than this. I don't… how the hells do you do all of this?” He sounded a mixture of happy and confused.
“Slowly. If that's what you want, it's not exactly that much of a transition from how we were. Less longing glances and more actual contact I suppose? I haven't ever had a companionship. Well, if I have it's before I lost my memory so this is… intimidating.” Your eyes flicked from the floor to Astarions anxiously.
“I don't remember ever having it either. We really are the weirdos of our odd little group aren't we. Even La'zel has probably had a companion. Losing to La'zel when it comes to romance is not something I plan on continuing.” Astarion held your hand tighter, looking up into your eyes.
“I care about you, so much.” You placed a hand on his cheek and he leant into it.
“Stop being so nice to me. Makes me feel like a good person. Ugh.” Astarion mocked disgust but you knew he loved the praise.
“Only leave me if you want to. Will you promise me that?” your thumb stroked across his cheek and you saw a single tear fall across your hand.
“Darling, I will never want to leave you, and the fact that you willingly give me a choice makes it clearer that I want to stay with you.” Astarion pulled your hand up to his face and kissed the back of it before hugging you around your stomach. Leaning his head on your lap. You finally relaxed and stopped shaking, stroking his hair in the firelight, you both existed in perfect happiness.
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izvmimi · 7 months
Text
stubborn - izuku x reader
cw: infidelity as a topic, escalating mind games, jealousy, tbh toxic behavior but it’s okay cuz uwu, fem!reader, smut (oral female receiving, use of the word ‘brat’, penetrative sex). 5.6k words. summary: izuku is as good at playing games as you are, or is he? a/n: a repost!
Izuku is far too placid when in the midst of an argument, you blurt out that you’re officially done with him. 
In fact, there’s the ghost of a smile that flickers on his features, and you know that smile. It’s the same smile he gives you when he teases you, especially when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re whining about how little more you can take while he coos and reminds you that you can give him just a little more room, the same way you’ve done many times before, right? 
It’s the smile that signals that he is in no way taking you seriously, that he knows you are completely and utterly wrapped. Your teeth clench and so do your fists.
“Midoriya.”
His eyebrows raise. From his vantage point, you look as cute as usual, eyebrows knit together and lips twisted into a snarl. It reminds him somewhat of an angry prey animal, he thinks, and he’s resisting the urge to pat you on the head.
“Yes, baby?”
He makes the mistake of widening his grin as he says this and defeated, you let out a cry of frustration, blood rushing to your ears and heart thumping as you rush out of the living room. There’s a loud slam that sounds once you’ve reached the bedroom and the hero is left alone to consider his actions. 
Izuku tolerates a lot from you, he thinks. It doesn’t mean he thinks he’s always right and does manage to begrudgingly accept his shortcomings, but the jealousy, the mood swings, and the neediness can sometimes get to him, even if they’re flaws you wear cutely. Giving you a moment to simmer down and letting the argument replay in his head, he lets out a sigh and settles on the couch to take off his boots. If you were out here, you’d complain about getting his sweaty suit off your furniture, but you’re not here, are you?
Izuku doesn’t think too much of the situation until he’s fully showered and knocks on the door to change into comfortable pajamas, only to find that the door is unlocked, you are laying on your stomach with your feet kicking, positively giddy, and in deep focus on your phone. Thinking that the argument has dissipated - you’re never mad at him for more than a couple hours anyway - he lets himself approach and decides against laying his entire weight on top of you, instead choosing to lay behind you, eyes on your form. You’re pretending you don’t even notice him.
“What’s got you giggling so much?” He finally asks, curiously turning to the side and resting his head on your shoulder. You don’t move sharply, instead allowing yourself to support the weight.
“I’m finding my replacement.”
He holds in a sigh that nearly rattles his bones.
“You can’t be serious.”
At that, you turn immediately, eyes wide, classic crazy look in your eyes. He purses his lips. 
You are definitely serious.
Before he can even begin to reason you, you excitedly show your phone to him, scrolling through a list of matches you’ve already procured for him, despite the fact that you could not possibly have been working on this for more than an hour.
“You’re quite popular, Mr. Number One Hero!” you chirp.
He rolls onto his back and grabs a pillow and screams lightly into it for a moment, before turning back to face you calmly. 
“Please delete this.”
“Why? I have three dates lined up for you over the next two weeks.” You pout. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint these lovely women, would you, Mr. Midoriya?”
There’s a nervous tick in his jaw at the polite appellation but he can see the glint in your eyes. Two can play this game.
“You’re right, and I trust you, darling,” he says, lips curling into a teasing grin. He rolls over onto his belly, pulling off the small towel that wraps around his waist and tosses it to the side, a motion that engages the muscles of his back just enough that you can pretend you don’t see them ripple. You try not to look at his ass because you’re angry. You are so, so angry.
“Give me the schedule and I’ll go. I don’t think they’ll manage to be as lovely as you, but I’ll try my best.” His green eyes twinkle as he watches you not look, then places a hand on the small of your back, and the contact almost shocks through your spine. 
You get up immediately and leave the room, ignoring his low chuckle as you hide the warmth blooming in your face.
Midoriya cannot believe he’s actually seated at a mom and pop restaurant at the end of the week with a woman he’s never met in his entire life. You had actually called his bluff at calling your bluff, and had even gone so far as to lay out his clothes in the morning and adjust the collar of his shirt.
“Can we not do this?” He had asked right before leaving the house. You’d simply smiled sweetly, venomously. 
“Real love awaits, sir!” You flashed him a thumbs up and the genuine way in which your teeth gleamed almost struck fear in his heart. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”
His entire way to the location, he had been considering what manner of trap this was. Would there be cameras? Kirishima, who was like an older brother to you waiting to beat his ass (even though he wasn’t completely sure what he did wrong and arguably may have done nothing wrong aside from being extraordinarily busy for the past two weeks)?
But alas, rather than a trap, or you in a different outfit, there was an admittedly beautiful young woman who smiled shyly back at him as he took his seat.
The first thing he does is tell the truth.
“Hi, um, yeah so…” he scratches his head. “Let me explain a couple things first before there’s any misunderstanding…” 
His voice trails off as he notices the slight distress in her features, but decides it’s better to hurt her feelings now than later.
“I was not the one managing my Tinder profile. Whatever may have been said to you was not said by me and-”
She nods emphatically and he stops. “Wait, you know what I’m about to say?”
“Yeah, your profile says it’s managed by your ex-girlfriend and we chatted a bit through messages.”
There’s a little bit of heat that reaches his ears, not pleasant heat at all, but mild irritation. He presses his lips together as she continues.
“She said something about wanting to make sure she set you up with someone better than her since you won’t accept your breakup.”
Izuku’s eye twitches but he smiles peacefully and takes a sip of his coffee.
“She said you were a very sweet guy though so I’m assuming you’re on good terms?” The young lady laughs coyly, a hand covering her mouth as she does. Coquettish, he thinks, then he remembers how you literally said you’d set him up with someone cute and coquettish and his heart starts to race.
“We’re on excellent terms,” he says finally, breathing through his nose, then takes a look at the menu. 
She giggles a bit and it annoys him because none of this is funny. Not for a second.
“She chose really good pictures,” the woman says softly, who Izuku recalls from the schedule you had the nerve to send him is named Sachiko, reaching for her glass of water. Izuku mirrors the action because his throat is suddenly terribly dry.
He clears his throat. You’ve gone too far.
“What would you like to order?” Izuku asks in his most charming voice.
“You didn’t take her home?” You ask, voice dripping of malice, curled up into the bedsheets of your California King. He considers shooting you a dirty look but he doesn’t; rather he strips painfully slowly and again you avert your eyes. This time he doesn’t laugh at your ridiculous attempt to pretend you don’t find him attractive, and instead, he stands stark naked in his underwear, arms crossed and feet squared as though you are an actual adversary. Maybe you enjoy being the villain in his story for once. 
You look up from your book, noticing his stillness in your peripheral vision. He looks good when he’s angry, you think, his face twisted into a scowl and breathing a little heavier than usual. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, then bid him to speak.
“What?” 
He shakes his head, like he can’t believe he’s really saying what he has to say next.
“First of all, I don’t fuck on the first date.” You tilt your head ever so slightly with a mock inquisitive look that bids him to go on.
“Don’t look at me like that, if I did, we absolutely would have,” he replies flippantly. You pretend to disregard that sentence. Then it hits you. We, as in you and him or we as in, he and her?
“Second of all, you’re going to regret this. Good night,” he insists before finding his way beside you in bed. You dramatically scoot over to the very edge of the bed, but he’s annoyed enough that his back is turned to you. 
Good, you think, and turn the page in your book. The plot thickens deliciously.
Izuku doesn’t bother explaining himself on the date the following week. Rather, he treats it like a business meeting and speaks politely, diverting any flirty comments to other topics. He wishes you hadn’t picked such an expensive restaurant but the truth was, the food was good enough to match the price. 
The woman today is not Sachiko - while Sachiko was petite and sold the moe angle quite well, Natsumi was a bit more direct and businesslike. Still, not quite like you and frankly a little bit too talkative. According to you, who were having the time of your life swiping right and left with his likeness, Sachiko had wanted a second date, but any time you broached the subject, he simply refused to respond and you, despite all of your ability to push buttons know when to stop. Now faced with Natsumi who was giving him his life story and testing his patience while he was trying to get through his Hamburg steak, he realized Sachiko might have been better.
“So why did you and your ex break up?”
Izuku swallowed another piece of meat quickly.
“We did not.”
Natsumi gave him a quizzical look.
“So why are you on a date with me?”
“To indulge her.”
Natsumi leans back in her chair then picks at her fingernails.
“Wow, you really are in denial, like she said.”
In Izuku’s eyes, this date is even more over than it was when it began.
When he comes home this time, you are talking and laughing animatedly on the phone to your mother as you cook a late dinner for yourself and rather than interrupt your conversation, he slips past you and puts the entrée he’d gotten for you in the front of the fridge.
You give him a glance then look away. Your mouth twists to the side, now that you realize you’re testing more than a little of his patience.
When you finally hang up the phone and put away your hot food to reheat the one he’s brought back for you, you ask in a small voice:
“Did you enjoy the food?”
He’s staring at the TV, looking without looking, and you can see that muscle in his jaw again tense before he turns to face you.
“It was delicious.”
You poke at the plate in front of you and concur. The food really is heavenly. Maybe you should pull back. It’s very clear that this man has no intention on breaking up with you and you can’t even remember what you were even mad about. There’s still a date left but canceling it with a 5 days notice isn’t the worst thing you can do. Your boyfriend has clearly learned his lesson, you think.
Then he says,
“Hey, can you arrange a second date for Sachiko? I’d like to see her again.”
And then rage consumes you again.
“Of course,” you say sweetly.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again!” Sachiko exclaims. Izuku had watched her run towards him, beaming smile accentuated by the bright winter sun’s rays reflected by the snow. Her cheeks are red and she looks as though she is blowing smoke, huffing and puffing as she catches her breath. She’s dressed for the weather, and so is he, and he notices the thick gloves that she’s wearing. His own hands are bare.
An ice skating date.
You must actually be prepared to lose him at this point.
Sachiko grins widely and Izuku, looking down at her again now that she is right next to him, realizes she really is cute. Not cuter than you, he wouldn’t go that far, but cute enough.
She doesn’t know how to ice skate and stays very close, and Izuku lets her cling onto his sleeve, then eventually hold his hand.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
The phrase ran through your head over and over again, and had been the first thing you thought of when you reread her message for the third, the fourth, and the fifth time. 
Hi, I hope this isn’t weird but I just wanted to thank you.
(I hope it’s not you, Izuku, ‘cause that would be awkward! 😊)
I wanted to let you know that it must be hard to give up your partner, especially when they seem so nice! But I’m grateful. We’ll be texting privately from now on! 
Maybe we can be friends someday? I’d like to meet you in person too!
You swallow hard for a moment, reading the message again and again and again.
Texting privately. The familiar use of his name. It was two dates only. Why was she so confident? Why was she thanking you?
You found yourself thumbing through her profile again, really scrutinizing her again, taking particular care to commit her soft features to memory and the warm demeanor you could see through her many photos.
You swallowed hard again.
Did you mess up? Did you finally push too hard?
The sound of the door opening suddenly startled you enough that you ended up dropping your phone in the bowl of the bathroom sink. Izuku, appearing behind you suddenly as he turned into the bathroom to check looked you up once up and down and muttered a soft greeting. 
“You okay?”
Maybe you were imagining it, but the timbre of his voice was less Izuku and more Deku, the Hero, who asked everyone if they were okay. Who belonged to everyone. Or maybe really not everyone, just not you.
Despite your throat feeling as though it would close up, you nod. He says nothing more and suddenly you wish you could take it all back.
Two weeks have passed since your declaration of singlehood akin to a declaration of war, and just a few days since Sachiko thanked you for handing over the love of your life on a platter. Unwilling to admit that you regret your game, you resort to not speaking to him at all - at least not more than to reply to his good morning or his good night. You can feel him shift gently in the middle of the night, sometimes to face you, and you wonder if he’ll put his arm around your waist and nuzzle his chin in the crook of your shoulder, but he stops short and you’re left wanting, regretting. Now you start to make arrangements. Where will you go once you officially break up rather than theoretically? This is his apartment after all. Should you tell your mother so she’s not surprised when you turn up at her doorstep and she can’t call him her future son-in-law?
You’re not sure what your endgame was, but whatever this is, you don’t like it.
So you do what you do best. Make do with what is presented to you.
Izuku doesn’t say a word once he leaves your home just before noon, leaving you to quietly attend to work-related affairs as you type on your computer. From the calendar on the refrigerator, you’re reminded he has a midday shift 12-10pm, but still a part of you wonders if he’ll sneak off at any point to meet Sachiko. Why wouldn’t he? You’re broken up after all. 
Sachiko is so cute you would date her if you had the chance. You really did choose far too well.
You can’t focus on work anymore, you decide after staring at a blank screen for the next hour. Your head is pounding and your throat, although it no longer wants to close up, is dry and water isn’t fixing it. There’s a crick in your neck and a tenseness in your shoulders that Izuku would have massaged out for you if you weren’t locked in battle for days on end. 
So you make a profile for yourself. Is it desperation for validation now that suddenly all your inadequacies are brought to light or fear of losing? Whatever it is, you are very lucky, because you’ve arranged a date for just a few hours from now. 
You cannot, will not, spend the night in an empty house.
Izuku’s hands are fidgety, enough that his patrol partner notices the incessant tapping of his foot and the repeated running of his hands through his hair.
“You okay there, man?” 
“Yeah.”
It’s not like he can say No, actually, my girlfriend’s phone is unreachable and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s mad at me or because something actually happened to her, but if I’m wrong about danger, it will only make our already terrible relationship worse.
His partner tonight is a non-UA alum who is new to the city and initially came in excited to work with the great Midoriya only to run into someone whose naturally charismatic Hero smile now carries an undercurrent of moderate unease. The two however continue to roam the district in a predetermined path, making sure to detect any suspicious activity as it may come up. This particular area is known for its elevated nightlife and particularly rich patrons. There’s a Michelin 3-star restaurant whose reservations are hotly contested that he spots along his path as he walks, and he remembers he’d considered it among others for your eventual engagement, if you ever made it there at this point. 
The fact that Sachiko has texted him three times today grates on his nerves and he wishes he had never given her his number, even though he continues to reply politely. He looks down to mute the text thread, and as he looks up, he sees you.
And his blood runs cold. 
You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on a first date. You do remember that you’re supposed to feel somewhat jittery - you remember being this way when you first went on a date with your soon-to-be ex - but your nerves aren’t firing in all directions in a pleasant, pure sort of way.
What exactly are you trying to prove? You wonder as you stride carefully, one heeled step before the other on the cobbled street, a handsome stranger by your side. You march unevenly, and you can tell he wants to reach over and help you, but your body is sufficiently frigid that he keeps a polite distance away. 
Until you accidentally trip and he steadies you with a gentle grip of the hand.
“Hold on to me,” he asks. Yoshi’s smile is pleasant and reassuring, a little like Izuku. He’s not as tall and not as broad, but he’s pleasant to look at. 
“Thank you,” you say, gingerly allowing your hand to settle on his outstretched elbow. It doesn’t feel right but you tell yourself it’s natural to feel that way, considering you only started talking this afternoon. 
Yoshi isn’t a complete stranger though - you learn he works in another division at your company and you have mutual friends. It had just turned out that he had gotten stood up for his intended date today despite having had reservations for a month, so you might as well have taken the opportunity to go to such an exclusive eatery.
“I forgot to tell you you looked breathtaking,” he says once you’ve moved closer to him, and you can’t help but to smile first, then feel disgusted that you’re letting another man compliment you.
“You look quite nice yourself,” you reply nevertheless.
The queue to the entrance is several couples and groups long despite your reservation so you check in first before heading over to a waiting area until you get called.
You do get called from behind before you even get to sit, but it’s not by the restaurant.
“Fancy seeing you here!”
You freeze. Of course. What did you think would happen?
There are two things that run through your head. Either you can pretend you didn’t hear his voice and keep walking, and you know damn well he would not allow himself to be ignored or you could turn and risk a very public argument or-
He chooses for you.
Izuku is in front of the two of you now, grinning far too wide, far too poisonously. For once your heart is actually racing, and you remember that despite how soft he’s been with you, he’s actually quite large and obviously strong and the fact that he’s barely concealing the fact that he’s genuinely upset at you as he looks you up and down, fists clenched by his side and knuckles white as chalk, means that he could be unpredictable.
“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” he says, with a tinny laugh. Your eyes widen as you look to him then to your date who looks genuinely confused as to why this Hero is unkindly interrupting his date out of the blue.
“Hey, um-”
Deku flashes a smile at you that doesn’t reach his eyes then looks back at Yoshi.
“The two of you look like a lovely couple! Are you waiting for this restaurant?” He says, pointing to the entrance. “It’s a great restaurant! I personally like one of their pasta dishes myself and had been meaning to take my girlfriend here for a while but we just haven’t gotten the chance to-”
Yoshi, bold enough that even you’re taken aback, has the nerve to take your wrist gently and pull you a little behind him - a move that is not lost on Izuku and your blood chills because Izuku finds himself holding back a chuckle.
“Can I help you?” Yoshi asks, clearly annoyed.
You start to move instinctively but Izuku’s placed a hand on Yoshi’s shoulder and proceeds to pat it. He leans in ever so slightly to clear the height difference between them, staring him directly in the eyes, and you hold your breath. It’s clearly a challenge and you pray that neither of them take the bait. 
You can see Yoshi move to shrug the shoulder off but he’s forced into place and now the confusion on his features is even more intense. You can nearly cut the tension in the air with a knife but then you hear the other young man approaching.
It’s Izuku’s partner who has finally caught up, and the sound of Deku’s name being called from afar as he approaches seems to snap Izuku back into the reality of the situation. Some of the pounding in his temples clears and he tries not to look at you, patting your date on the shoulder.
“Stay safe out there and don’t stay out too late,” He offers. There’s still an edge to his voice and his hand and eyes linger but eventually he lets it trail off. The warning is for you specifically. 
Your face is hot and you’re thoroughly embarrassed but that’s the least of your concerns right now. Your stomach twists into a knot.
Your table is called.
When you finally slip back into your apartment, it’s a couple minutes to midnight and you are Cinderella fleeing back home to where the magic wears off.
The lights are on and Izuku is staring holes into the front door as you come in - he almost startles you when you slip off your shoes and turn to find him sitting at the kitchen table, facing in your direction. 
A small gasp leaves your throat.
He cocks his head to the side.
“What? Do I scare you?” His voice is somewhat gruff as though he’s waking up from sleep, low, and makes your heart pound.
You open your mouth, then close it. There’s not really much you can say at this point. You literally went on a date without his knowledge. You expected a fight when you came back, especially given how obviously angry he was just a couple of hours ago. 
You push and you push and you push and you don’t really know why you’re pushing.
And then you remember why. Sachiko.
“No,” you reply, moving forward in bare feet on wooden flooring, and dropping off your apartment keys in a shared bowl on the counter. You purse your lips and try not to engage him but wonder how long he’s been waiting for you, hunched forward on his elbows, pressing his fingertips together. There’s an untouched glass of wine besides him, and he rarely drinks.
“How was your date?” he spits.
You stop for a moment, his tone sinking in, and you selectively hear anger instead of the pang of rejection. You whip around to face him, the metal on your purse strings making the action unnecessarily loud. 
“It was great, actually! How’s Sachiko?!”
You didn’t mean to raise your voice but you did nevertheless. 
“Who..,” he starts, but his eyes widen, seething. “You sent me on that date.”
“That doesn’t mean you can fuck her!”
Izuku lets out a groan but his scowl softens to a frown once he sees the tears in your eyes despite his still tightly clenched fists.
“I did not, first of all. I deleted her number hours ago. We literally never met after the dates YOU arranged. Meanwhile you’re prancing around, hanging off some random dude’s arm, and what am I supposed to do? Accept it? What the fuck do I look like to you,___?”
You don’t have a response to that. How easy can it be to tolerate your mood swings? You were never done with him. You don’t want to be done with him. Of course he laughed at you when you said it, because it was obviously not true.
But you just want to feel heard so badly sometimes.
There’s a bit of silence as the two of you stand across from each other, your tears streaming down your face.
“Come here,” Izuku murmurs.
“No,” you mutter. He sighs as he follows you into the bedroom you disappear to, and watches you carefully as you sit down on the edge of the bed. You’re clearly still unsettled, but by now he can tell that you are no longer angry but confused as to what to do next. What comes after this mess?
“Did you fuck him?” Izuku asks in a quiet voice.
“Obviously not,” you quip, crossing your arms not out of self-defense but for self-soothing.
“Did you kiss him?” His voice is tentative as though he dreads the answer. His palms open and he flexes his fingers but he crosses the distance towards you on the bed.
“No.”
He pauses again, then kneels down before you. There’s a hand that finds its way onto the side of your cheek tenderly, turning your face so that you face him, and him only.
“I’m done fighting with you,” he finally decides. “Open your legs.”
Your face twists into surprise, but he dives deep, pulling up the bottom of your dress to your waist. He plants several kisses on your thighs, then waits for you to part your legs for him - he’s not going to tell you twice - before pressing his nose on the wet spot forming on your panties.
He breathes in and the inhale of your scent runs through his whole body, enough that you shudder yourself.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he says and your face warms. His calloused hands grip firmly, but not roughly, on the skin of your legs and push you open even further to accommodate his broad shoulders - you lean back onto your elbows as he slips two fingers under the crotch, and tears them apart with a snap.
“‘Zuku!” You hiss. Those panties aren’t your best ones but you still liked them.
He doesn’t reply and rather hastily, penetrates you with his tongue, and you squeal his name again, relishing in the thick muscle exploring your folds and the harsh grasp of his fingertips as he keeps you still. 
“B-baby… ah!”
He’s sharp and precise, because you’ve loved him long enough and he’s loved you long enough to know exactly what you need. You don’t tip but you careen over the pleasure of his tongue working your folds and your clit and your soft center, whining as pressure builds in your lower belly. 
“S-stop, it’s…” your breath falters, “I d-don’t deserve…”
He stops briefly with a kiss, then looks up at you, mulling over the words he needs to say to this woman who causes him so much trouble. 
He decides on the following:
“You’re right. You don’t deserve it, not right now, so I’m punishing you,” he finally teases. There’s a half grin on the slick covered lower half of his face and your eyes widen at the sight of his glistening skin. He lifts your ass gently and slaps it hard enough that your breath catches, the pain searing up and down your leg. You gasp, and he grabs a handful of your ass cheek, rubbing it to mull over the sensation. 
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” He hisses. His body presses over you, pushing one of your bent legs against your chest as he continues to squeeze at the fat of your bottom. You nod and he kisses you. 
“Simply awful.”
Another spank comes and you’re nearly blinded in pain and he dips down, biting at your lip. 
“I indulge you far too much, don’t I?” His teeth tug gently and release, and then he motions for you to pull your arms up. You’re sure if you don’t hurry up, he’ll rip it to shreds. 
The dress comes off and so does your breasts out of your bra and into his cupped hands. Sucking, biting at your nipples, leaving marks - it’s desperate and possessive and you wonder what would have happened if you had really taken Yoshi or whatever his name was seriously, and really pushed your Izuku to the brink. 
“I’m s-sorry,” you choke out eventually through sighs and then sobs. Izuku rolls you onto him, clasping his arms around your waist as you straddle him, playing with your breasts as you roll against him. The rhythm is new and hasty, but some of the fundamentals are the same. You know his body and he knows yours. He sucks at your neck and you nip at his earlobes - your fingers twist into his curls and he pulls at your hair. Kiss after kiss after kiss.
“I’m sorry, too,” he murmurs into your neck. His strong arms still enclose you and you’re settled onto his cock. There’s a soft groan as he presses upwards into you and some of you collapses into him, but he rolls his hips as you cling to his chest and you’re in a rhythm yet again.
“You make me crazy but I’m sorry.”
You can only whimper something unintelligible back as you suck up every inch of him, even your walls clinging tightly and desperately to his body inside yours. Your fingers curl into fists, laying against his chest and he uses a hand to pull it before him and kiss your knuckles.
“I’m awful,” you moan, crying into his chest.
“I shouldn’t have teased you,” he insists.
He flips over and you find yourself under him, and he interlaces his fingers with yours above you. Green locks graze gently atop your forehead as he stares into your eyes.
“I love you,” you say first.
“I love you too,” Izuku replies. He stirs into you more, letting the pressure of his weight comfort you as he strokes deeply, then rises up on his elbows to pick up his pace.
“Promise you’ll never leave,” you beg him before he begins. His hands press onto yours and pin you down and he kisses at your belly, then up to your lips.
“You can’t get rid of me,” he laughs.
“Even when I’m shitty enough to try?”
He pauses, dips down to press his forehead against yours. His lips graze above yours again. 
“Even when I’m angry enough to fight back, I won’t leave you.”
Reassured, you rock your hips against his and he takes it as an invitation to speed up. His strokes are fast and deep and tender - with every plunge you fall deeper in love with him, as does he. You push back but gently, resisting every strong movement with a clench of your thighs against him.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he insists, and you can his voice lowers. “Fucking amazing, baby, fucking-”
It’s his tell - he holds on to you desperately and you can feel yourself tense up as your coil snaps and sharp jets of cum spurt at your cervix, coating you thick and full. He shudders as he comes, heavy body shrouding you in a warm comfort.
He’s never leaving and neither are you.
No matter how many games you play.
1K notes · View notes
seeingivy · 4 months
Text
logical
megumi fushiguro x f!reader
an: do not enable a megumi as olivia rodrigo songs series. because I will write a bad idea right? one with drunk asf megumi drunk calling the reader. anyways, this one is based off of logical HEHE
--
it’s quite simple. you refuse to go on a mission with megumi fushiguro. but of course, satoru gojo, sees no reason. which is why the two of you are sitting on the train together, knees brushing against each other in the silence. swelteringly uncomfortable - as you fidget with your hands and he types away on his phone - and you both bite the bullet on what to say. 
every thought that passes through your mind makes you hyperaware of that deep rooted, soft spot that you’re always going to hold for him - that despite all logical, rational thought - megumi fushiguro will always be scored on your heart in some way or another. 
you’re not sure what it’s a byproduct of. you’d love to write it off as something simple, something as trivial as first love. that he was simply the first person to shower you in love that way, to show you that it was real, and that this tenderness would quickly harden over when you found someone new. 
except as more days went on, almost a month since the two of you had fought and broken up, it was becoming more of a silent, naive hope of yours. because of course, the stupid cliches, not the ones that you wanted to be true, were of course the ones that were. that all rational thought, went out the window, when it came to megumi fushiguro. 
that distance made the heart grow fonder. that your heart longed for him every time you passed by him in the dorms and shared those awkward, pinched smiles instead of the soft, sweet ones that he only saved for you. that whenever nobara said something stupid or yuuji irritated nanami, that you’d both instinctively turn to look at each other and laugh, just to now do it on instinct and get a painful reminder. that you can’t, that you shouldn’t, turn to one another anymore. 
that it isn’t like that anymore. that you and megumi aren’t together anymore, and that of course, megumi could have any girl, so why would he possibly be with you?
“this is the stop.” 
you look up, noting that he broke the silence first, as you give him a nod and exit the train car with him. you keep a considerable distance as you two walk up to the abandoned elementary school and lift the veil. 
“emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. purify that which is impure.” you murmur, as you both give each other a curt nod and split onto other sides of the hallway. 
--
when the two of you make your way back on the train, megumi can’t wrack his brain on how you were able to tell. and that itching, guilty feeling that’s turning over in his stomach - associated with the crimson red blood that’s pouring down your cheek and his own shortcomings, as always. 
he had already shot a quick text to shoko, swallowing the guilt of waking her up in the middle of the night, to fix it the second that you got back. 
“quit feeling sorry for yourself.” 
megumi looks to your side, to find you folding his handkerchief, now coated in your blood, before you hand it back to him. 
“what?” 
“i can tell. that you’re brooding. but it was an honest mistake. that’s literally how the curse is supposed to work, y’know? it wouldn’t exactly be a curse otherwise.” you add. 
megumi frowns, his retort dying on his tongue. that it’s not an honest mistake, because if you were able to discern the truth, he should have been able to do so too. 
that when he was faced with it - that there were two manifestations of you, one that was the curse and one that was you - that he picked wrong. 
and that worst of all, the thing that he had struck, with full force, was you. that the crimson red blood that was leaking from your cheek was because he had lifted his hand on you, before the curse had doubled over and pushed him over too. 
when he came to, it was your turn. because standing to his left was another manifestation of him, so much so, that it left a lump in his throat at how much it looked like him. that when it was your turn to pick, you’d quickly sliced your sword straight through it’s stomach, like it was nothing instead of attacking him.
“i’m sorry that i did that to you.” he murmurs. 
you look over at him, at the clear disdain in his eyes for himself, as you deflate. 
“i wasn’t just saying that. that’s how the curse worked. you can’t exactly beat yourself up about it.” you respond. 
“you could tell. i should have been able to as well.” he states, rather curtly. 
you hum in response, that sickening soft spot burning. 
“well, you were never the mind reader were you?” you respond. 
he scoffs in response, the smallest makings of a smile on his face, as he lightly elbows you in the side. one of your stupid jokes, from your first date where you had dragged megumi to a tarot reader just for him to quite literally wish upon his death. you elbow him back, before you link your arm in with his and watch the way he deflates under your touch. 
megumi does it a few times, before you finally bit the bullet and ask him to speak. he opens his mouth, like he’s almost about to talk, before he stops himself short from ever doing it. 
“just ask.” 
megumi looks to your side, not even half shocked that you were able to tell. 
“how were you able to tell? that it wasn’t me?” 
“easy. that megumi was pleading me. told me that he loved me, all that.” 
“and?” 
“you wouldn’t do that.” you murmur, before you get off the train and march back to campus on your own. 
--
you see megumi again three days later. or more appropriately, you open the door and he barges into your room with a book secured under his hand. 
“just come in, i guess.” you murmur, irritated. 
it’s only when you turn around that you notice his haphazard appearance - that he’s panting, his cheeks are flushed, and that his hair is an unruly mess. you take the seat across from him, pinching your eyes at him, as he hands the book over to you. 
the five love languages. 
“what is this?” you ask. 
“i get it now. what i did wrong. why-why we aren’t together anymore.” 
you’re shocked at the bluntness in his word, that he’s willing to face it full on, as you take in his appearance. the pink near near his waterline and the darkness surrounding his eyes. 
“i was talking to gojo-sensei and-” 
“oh?” you respond, smirking at him. 
“shut up.” he grumbles back, flipping open to the book. 
“is this rock bottom for you? asking gojo-sensei for help of all people?” 
“if i say yes, will you let me continue?” he asks. 
“yes.” 
he glares, before sighing, and murmuring under his lips. 
“anyways. like i was saying, he gave me this book. and-and i get it now.” he states. 
he opens it up to the marked page, each of the little lines highlighted, with his handwriting scribbled on the side. 
quality time 
physical touch
acts of service 
receiving gifts
words of affirmation
you’re hyperaware of the fact that the last one, words of affirmation, has been circled and that megumi had neatly scribbled your name next to it on the line. 
“i don’t get it.” 
“it’s a thing in the book. that-” 
he swallows hard, the edges of his lips quivrering, before he talks again. 
“you can love someone but that person might not feel loved by you.” 
you turn your head to the side, in confusion, as you gesture for him to go on. 
“you feel most loved when i say it to you. and that’s not how i was showing love to you. it’s why you think i don’t love you.” megumi states. 
you scoff. 
“that’s not why we aren’t dating. we aren’t dating because you basically insinuated that you could have anyone but me. that i was lucky to be dating you.” you respond. 
his face curls up in anger, as he tightens his fists on the able. 
“when did i ever say that?”
“i asked you why you were so intent on the two of us staying together when all we do is hurt each other, i specifically asked you - how was i supposed to know that you loved me? and all you responded with was that there are lots of other girls out there and that you could easily have any of them. and then you had the audacity to try and kiss me after i tried to leave?” 
megumi deflates, fluttering his eyes closed in frustration, as he uncurls his fists on the table. he flips to the back of the book, before turning it over to you. 
“what the hell is this?” 
“it’s a quiz. you take it to figure out which language is yours. and it ranks them - from best to worst or whatever.” 
you look down at his results scribbled into the little lines. and at the fact that words of affirmation is dead last for him. 
“so?” 
“my love language is physical touch. that’s why, when i saw that you were upset, i was trying to make you feel better. in the way that i feel better.” 
he stops, the pink dusting on his cheeks, as he awkwardly looks down at his hands. 
“whenever you kiss me, i feel better. gojo-sensei can get on my nerves, nobara and yuuji can steal all my clothes, or…or i remember that my sister is dead and i feel better. when you hold my hand and trace those little shapes into my palms. or when you kiss my cheek. It-it’s stupid but-” 
“it’s not stupid.” 
“but for you. words are your thing. you-you have to hear them, right?” 
you deflate. 
“i guess, megumi. i would like to hear it sometimes. i know you’re not a big, talky feelings guy but…i’d just like the reminder sometimes. just so i know that-” 
“i love you.” 
you swallow hard, fighting the burning tears in your eyes, as you shake your head. 
“you could have any girl you wanted. you said it yourself.” 
megumi sighs, standing up from his side of the table, before he kneels at your side and leans his cheek against your shoulder. you can smell his soap, the irish spring smell enveloping your space. 
“you want to know how pathetic i am at this whole words thing?” 
“enlighten me.” 
“i was trying to say that…there are lots of other girls out there and i could easily have any of them. but the one i want is you.” 
you’re not sure what it is, more of the fact that the burden of hurt, right next to that soft spot of yours is slowly alleviating, but you can’t help but laugh in his face. at how ridiculous he is. 
“it’s not funny.” 
“megs! it’s kind of funny. in what world was i supposed to think that was what you meant?” 
“you’re the mind reader. you should have been able to tell.” 
you elbow him in the side, before you stand up, gesturing for him to stand up with you. and you loop your hands under his shoulder, leaning into his touch, hoping that it makes sense to him. that he understands that he’s forgiven. 
“i’m shocked you humbled yourself to gojo-sensei to ask for advice, megs.” 
“ugh. it was so embarrassing. but at least it was worthwhile.” 
“aw. you did that all for me?” you joke, pinching the side of his cheek. 
he smiles in response, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of your cheek. 
“i’d do anything for you, if that much wasn’t clear. but i’ll keep reminding you if i have to. say it a hundred times, properly, if you need it.” 
you frown in response, giving him a nod, as you burrow your head into the softness of his neck and squeeze as hard as you can. 
“don’t start thinking i don’t want you to kiss me though. i don’t need kiss deprivation.” you whine. 
megumi laughs, pulling back, to tuck your hair behind your ear. he’s smiling ear to ear, so warm, that it makes your stomach rumble. 
“okay. what else?” 
“well, i still like gifts. and you and i should always be spending quality time together. and would it kill you to do something nice for me?” 
“so…you want me to do all of them?” 
“exactly!” you respond sarcastically, poking the side of his cheek. 
he reaches forward to flick your forehead, before he pads into your kitchen. 
“what are you doing?” 
“well, i’m making you dinner. that’s an act of service. and technically a gift too? and we’ll eat it together, so that’s quality time.” 
he quickly runs over and peppers three kisses over your face - one on your forehead and on each of your cheeks - before he continues. 
“that’s physical touch. and you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. words. that’s all five.” 
“you tag teamed two of them. that doesn’t count.” 
“okay, you can have my credit card and buy yourself something.” 
“that’s gojo-sensei’s credit card.” you deadpan. 
“shut up.” 
you roll your eyes, as you join him at his side in the kitchen. 
“i was joking, you know? you don’t actually have to make me dinner or do all of them.” you murmur. 
“i know that. i just want to.” 
you give him a smile, as the two of you shuffle around each other, and fix your plates together.
--
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422 notes · View notes
yourlocaltreesimp · 6 months
Note
Heyo! Can I request how the boys would react to the reader/their crush complimenting them?
- 🥣 anon
Yes you may, and welcome to the Anon list officially, officially!
PT 1: Time, Twilight, Wild
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Chain getting complimented by their crush!
Time
Stone faced on the outside- buts that’s because he’s a windows error page
But when he resets it’s literally just him melting with adoration.
He’s thinking about that for the next week, whenever you’re next to him, whenever his mind gets to quiet, whenever he’s close to falling asleep.
“Hey Time?” Your curious voice was hushed as most other members of the chain were sleeping, and judging from your own sleepy voice, you weren’t too far.
“Yes?” He shifted over slightly to get a better look at you, sprawled out over your bedroll and propped up by an arm. The fire’s glow did you well, painting your in warmth and gold.
“That’s it- I just wanted to see your face. G’night” And just like that, you were peacefully asleep. He, however, could do anything but. He was unaware of courting in your universe, unaware of what that ment for him and his yearning for which he thought was one-sided. But he was glad the others couldn’t see the smile he let crack his face, hand the way he carefully tucked you in.
Twilight
He skips the mental reset and goes straight to panicking.
Look, he was down bad before- he’s worse now.
Twilight couldn’t find anywhere else to rest his eyes except on you as you sat, a colony of stray ordon cats gathered around you. You tried your hardest to give them all equal attention, much as you did the group, but one crawled it’s way into your lap, garnering your attention. He didn’t know he could be jealous of a cat.
“I love being here.” His head soared to hear that you to loved his home, its charm outweighing any possible doubts you had in your mint
“Glad to hear that” He so badly wanted to say more as the silence lingered, but your content smile persuaded him into simply letting it be.
“I wanna live somewhere like here someday. Hell- I even might stay here if you aren’t sick of me by the end of all this” You looked up and his heart caught, he managed a shy smile as he wringed his hands out nervously. As if he could ever be sick of you- the mere thought was atrocious. “I wouldn’t mind staying here for you” If his cheeks weren’t red before, he could guarantee they were now.
Wild
There’s a few things you compliment him on that he’s suave af about. His scar, however is not one of them.
It makes him feel lesser. Reminds him of his shortcomings
Compliment that and this man is sold. Not only are you interested in him, but you’re interested in all of him. Not just the champion that he was dubbed
It was the forth or fifth time he caught you staring, your eyes lingering on his face. Now that’s not so say he didn’t like your attention, no, but he was starting to wonder.
“Why do you keep staring at me”
“I’m not staring at you” Your unassuming response gets an amused huff out of him “I’m admiring” The way you stressed the word made adrenaline deep into his blood in a way he was familiarly unfamiliar with- something only you could do to him.
“What is there to admire?” He looked down at himself, he was in his usual ensemble of clothing, his hair done the same way as usual, so what was it that caught you?
“Your scar” Oh? Oh. His mind was quiet, you were quiet. Of course the most radiant thing to walk the earth finally noticed his normality. Finally noticed his insufficiency. Finally noticed he’s a fa- “I like it” What? “It’s so… you. I hadn’t realised how well it fits your face. I wish whatever happened didn’t happen, yeah…” Your voice trailed off in an enraptured trial. Enough to leave his mind drawing blanks “But I think I like you more this way” You smiled, satisfied with your words and went back to what you were supposed to be doing while he could do anything but. The most precious person he’s met not only appreciates his most ugly and unworthy parts, but loves him more because of them… That was a concept he’d need to ponder.
489 notes · View notes
vivalabunbun · 1 year
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Late Spring Blooms
Summary: Not even one word had been spoken between the two of you
Word Count: 5.1K (this was supposed to be short...)
Tags: Alhaitham x gn! reader, slow burn, fluff, just a lot of fluff, slight angst, Akademiya setting, toxic academia environment, mentions of bullying, both of you are students, mutual pining, when you just stare at your crush for like 4 years but never talked to them. 
Authors note: This was supposed to be a short feel-good fic, but I guess my brain just wanted to be a nerd. So I included some scientific theories that are kinda in debate, I just gave it my best shot. I write fiction not peer reviewed studies please forgive any mistakes
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“A voltage is applied to two electrodes immersed in a solution of heavy water…”
All throughout the lecture hall there were the frantic movements of quills as desperate hands penned down every word that left the lecturer’s mouth. The fluttering of paper as students rushed to continue recording every detail, spurred by the fear of a question on exams yet to be announced. 
Rather than immerse themselves in the lecture, they’d rather save the details for a stressful night before said hypothetical exam. Frankly, it was a waste of time. 
“When the SuperWave Principle is applied, with raising and falling nested oscillations…”
Yes, this is a waste of time. A waste of his time. Alhaitham’s notebook and quill remained untouched on the desk in front of him. This course was nothing more than an elective to him, it had nothing to do with his own darshan. A class his late grandmother had listed in her well wishes to her grandson. However, Alhaitham would much rather prefer to be reading in the House of Daena. 
“And that is the discovery behind cold fusion energy production. This achievement rewarded me with much academic praise and my position as a researcher. As it innovated a new path for clean and unlimited energy. Thank you.” 
Applause erupted in the lecture hall, hands clapping together as forged looks of amazement masked ulterior motives. Alhaitham remained still, bored eyes continuing to observe the scholarly man as he stood at the podium. Even from the ashen-haired student’s perch among the upper seats, he can still see the swell of pride in the elder scholar’s chest. As the sea of green uniforms finally abated their praise, the professor step up to the podium. 
“Are there any questions for our honored guest lecturer?” 
The once bustling mob stilled. No quills moved, no papers rustled, and not a single student dared make eye contact dreading the thought of an unintentional invitation to speak. Of course, this was all expected. After all, which person would dare expose their own shortcomings? 
Each and every person in the room was once praised to be la crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the valedictorians that spoke prepared speeches to their peers they viewed as mediocre. They were all once the top one percent, showered with empty words such as ‘talented’ and ‘gifted’. However, at the Akademiya, where the best of the best had been vetted and admitted. How can everyone be that ‘one percent’? 
It’s a simple answer. They can’t. Instead of spirits learning humility, they were crushed under the realization of reality. And just like a curious hand that had reached out towards a burning stove, their egos wounded and withdrew. If they cannot stand among the few slots at the top, then they’d rather hide among the ninety-nine percent. Listlessly carried by the flow of life, throwing their hands up to ‘fate’. 
Once again, as Alhaitham’s bored eyes surveyed the room, he is reminded why he had put off attending the Akademiya until recently. It was quite ironic for such an esteemed institution to have such pathetic levels of academic spirit. People didn’t come here to learn, they came here to ‘know’ and for a decorated piece of paper to hang on their walls.
However, on the basis of the last part, Alhaitham saw himself as no different. This was a crucial stepping stone in the preplanned path he laid out for himself. Even if it was tedious, it must be done. 
From the still crowd, one lone hand raised above, peeking out from the sea of green berets. It seems that even the professor didn’t anticipate this as a wrinkled hand gestured for the young budding scholar to speak. 
“I’m amazed by your discovery, sir. However, does it really work? I don’t think I’ve seen a recreation of your experiment.” 
The air in the lecture hall stilled, as hundreds of eyes honed in on the gear that dare squeak. The ego is quite fragile, and there is a positive correlation between the fragility of one's ego and the higher up their position is on the hierarchy. The scowl that formed on the guest’s face was predictable, as his haughty eyes glared at the fresh-faced student. 
“It seems that some people are suffering from selective hearing, or perhaps you just couldn’t grasp the concepts I’ve spent the past two hours explaining.” Offense drip off of every word. 
“But, according to standard practices, an experiment has to be rep-”
“Did the Akademiya just allow anyone in this year? My theory and discovery have already been entered into the akasha. Even a child can see the validity of my research.” The lecturer tapped one finger rapidly against the solid wood of the podium. 
“Still, I beli-”
“Did you not hear me? My research has already been entered into the akasha.” He snapped, the peak of the microphone rang through the air. 
“Sir, I-”
The professor raised his hand to silence the student, putting an end to this sorry excuse of an academic debate. The student’s figure sunk down in their seat, their seat neighbors scooting away as if there was something contagious. The show that had piqued the ashen-haired scholar’s interest had been abruptly halted. What a pity. 
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“Can you believe them? Who would ask such a stupid question?” 
“‘Does it work?’, it’s been entered into the akasha for archon’s sake!”
“If I were them, I’d never show my face again at the Akademiya.”
Mindless gossip made his ears ring as a sigh left his lips, snapping the book closed in his hand. Alhaitham thought it was an unspoken rule that one must be silent in the House of Daena, guess common courtesy isn’t practiced much anymore. Carrying the book in one hand as he swung his bag over his shoulder he exits the library doors. 
His academic journey at the Akademiya had only begun about a month ago with the start of a new semester, but he was already bored. Lectures dragged the same material on for days. Professors gave their unessential anecdotes to slip in their own self-praises, and the busy work they called assignments. 
However, the worst part, for Alhaitham, was how his fellow students and aspiring scholars accepted everything. Sitting there in their seats back straight, hands busy creating a transcript of the entire lesson. Heads politely nodding as if they understood everything even though confusion was clear in their eyes. There were no academic discussions occurring in classes, and there were no attempts to encourage them. 
What’s the point when everyone could just use the akasha for answers? It’s quite depressing to see such a lack of academic spirit.
Alhaitham has decided that he should return back to his own method of self-studying, just as he has done before. He can cut out the unnecessary material and focus on subjects that interest him. Paying the tuition just to learn everything on his own, is truly ironic. 
However, as Alhaitham walks towards the empty pavilion he has to admit he is grateful for the facilities available at the Akademiya. It was a secluded space, quiet and away from chattering groups, students chasing after mentors and professors with half-heartedly written theses, and scholars’ boastful comments on the results of their experiments. Just as he rested his back against a pillar of the pavilion, he heard a muffled whimper. 
Tsk, great, there’s someone here already. Alhaitham readjusted his bag on his shoulder, pushing off the pillar as he began his search once more for undisturbed peace. His teal eyes couldn’t help but wander toward the source of the sound. Sight landing on your crouched figure obscured by the thick trunk of the tree just behind the white structure. For a brief moment, your eyes locked with his, before you jolted your head away from his direction. 
Cheeks stained with tears and face burning with shame. Yes, there is a famous saying that tends to ring true: The nail that stands out will get hammered. He recognizes you as the hand that dare raise a question. 
Everyone at the Akademiya is fueled by their own self-interest, whether it be for greater knowledge, a higher future position at the institution, or to have their name printed on an accredited research project by a renowned scholar.
Weak egos tend to rally under bigger ones, feeding the latter with empty praises in hopes of a return on their investments. If they could find a footing that allows them to climb up the stairs of the hierarchy, then they were willing to step on anyone. 
You just recently have been labeled as such, a stepping stone in order to get closer to a certain researcher. Tearing you down to build the bridges of connection with the reputable graduate. It was low-hanging fruit. How could a naive, freshly admitted student go against a published scholar with wealth and status? 
You were the losing dog in this race. And yet, Alhaitham still wanted to applaud you, if not for your academic spirit then for your courage. However, it is clear from the way you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, you needed your privacy. 
He focused his eyes on the path ahead of him, leaving the secluded space, his lips won’t speak a word of this event. A little further down the path, teal eyes shifted back behind him. Your hands were wiping the tears out of your eyes as you blinked, perplexed by the sudden appearance of a neatly folded green handkerchief. Alhaitham sees it as a fair trade for piquing his bored mind. 
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“Excuse me, do you have a translation of the book: Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices?” 
A familiar voice shifted Alhaitham’s attention away from the text he was translating, perhaps his mind took it as an excuse for his eyes to take a break from the barely legible script. You would think with all the funds the Akademiya had, they would be able to provide students with good-quality copies, but the printed assignment in front of him disproves that notion. It’s not good to strain the eyes. 
Once more teal eyes landed on your figure, back straight and head still held up high. You have more courage than Alhaitham originally thought. Despite the mocking sneers that have been thrown your way in the halls, you’ve just faced forward and continued down your way. Currently, you were asking for the assistance of a disinterested librarian. 
She brings one hand up to her akasha terminal, eyes lazily gazing at the information that flowed in front of her. Then after less than two minutes of searching, she stops. 
“No. Never heard of it. It’s not in the system.” 
“It’s an old title, but according to the library catalog, it should-”
“Did you not hear me? I just checked the akasha and it says it’s not here. Maybe you should make use of that terminal collecting dust on your ear before you come wasting my time.” The librarian cut you off rudely. Readjusting the green beret on her brown hair before she turned her back on you.   
The hand you reached out towards her drops to your side, your shoulders slouched a bit. There were now peering eyes focused on you, stressed students viewing your embarrassment and dejection as a welcomed dose of entertainment. Taking a deep breath you quickly made your way back in the direction of the dusty library catalog. Determined to find that book. 
The librarian had stated a blatant lie, how does Alhaitham know? The book Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices was right under his resting elbow.
You were right, it is an old book, so old that it seems that someone had forgotten to input it into the updated database of the akasha. Or maybe someone removed it, deeming it no longer academically relevant. His elbow was now resting on the book he had just finished hours earlier, it was a better use of his time than attending mindless lectures. 
You seemed busy flipping through the pages of the library catalog, and the script in front of him is due tomorrow. He’ll finish his assignment, it's the least he could do to just ensure his passing of a class that hasn’t seen his face for some time now. 
It was late now, your eyes were beginning to droop head nodding back and forth. You shook your head, desperately trying to fight off sleep, eyes peeled on the text in front of you. Your attempts to find the book had been fruitless, but you were able to find different academic journals that substituted the same subject.
You didn’t need sleep, you needed to satisfy that itching feeling inside your mind. That inkling that what that lecturer had said was… the words in front of you blurred. 
Maybe a quick nap would help boost your productivity. 
Your eyes snapped open as your body jolted up. How long were you asleep? Your eyes surveyed the library. All around you were either passed out fellow students at their seats, or those running on nothing but caffeine and stress frantically pressing their noses against the books and papers in front of them. There were fewer people here than before you shut your eyes, signaling to you that it has gotten later. 
Your lips pressed into a tight line, did you just lose more precious time? The thought of assignment due dates was pressing against the back of your mind. But you just had to get to the bottom of this, it just doesn’t make sense to you- 
Your eyes widened at what had appeared in front of your seat. Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices. But how? You had looked high and low, even breaking library regulations by climbing on the tall ladders to search the very tops.
Your head whipped around, searching for an explanation. Your eyes were just able to catch the slightest glimpse of a familiar shade of grey and green exiting the grand doors of the House of Daena. 
There was a small note on top of the book. 
I had the book you were looking for. There’s a diagram that wasn’t translated properly. On page 520, the diagram says: ‘maintaining temperatures of over 100 million degrees are necessary while regulating pressure and magnetic forces at the same time. These conditions are for stable confinement of the plasma and to maintain the fusion reaction long enough to produce more energy than what was required to start the reaction.’ Hope this helps. 
It was silly really, or maybe your tired mind was just getting sentimental, but your sight began to blur again. Not with sleep this time, your eyes were overflowing with tears. This small note, the neat handwriting, the book you had been searching for.
They were the sweet hands of reassurance you needed on your shoulder. Smiling like an idiot through your tears, you hid your face behind the small note. 
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“How long exactly are they going to continue to deny the facts? Jeez, I wish I had their simple mind sometimes.”
“Yeah, it must be nice to have your head buried in the rabbit hole of ignorance.” 
It was now a new year, a fresh semester had long begun, but unfortunately, reputation and stigma don’t have a simple shelf life of just a year. Once more, Alhaitham found that silence in the House of Daena is not seen as a requirement by some students. Mindless gossip had no place in a sanctuary of high academia, but it looks like his opinion isn’t shared. 
Alhaitham had woken up later than he would’ve liked, meaning he didn’t have time to pick up any coffee if he wanted to get to his test on time. After he had finished, he made an effort to get to the café as fast as he could. But when he got there, he saw a sign announcing the café was closed for the day.
In short, Alhaitham was having a bad day, the grating voices that continued to chatter beside him were only fraying his thinning patience even more. 
Frustrated, his eyes followed their line of sight, to see just what subject was so pressing they had to gossip in a place of study and silence. They lead him to your figure, hunched over a thick book, one finger tracing each sentence line by line and the other detailing notes.
Even with the stacks of books that surrounded your desk blocking some of your frame, he could see your face clearly. Although you were trying to maintain a neutral expression, he caught onto the small quivering of your lips. 
“Like the information is already in the akasha, do they think they’re smarter than the combined knowledge of all of Sumeru?” 
“Yeah, well it’s always the stupidest people that speak the loudest-”
“You two are quite loud.” 
The students that sat beside him snapped their attention towards the man who had returned his eyes back to his book. 
“Excuse me?” 
“This is the House of Daena, the largest library in all of Teyvat, and you’re being loud. Maybe you should immerse yourselves in some books, for the academic spirit.” 
“Jeez, we weren’t even that loud, and the akasha-”
“What poor academic spirit. If the akasha was all you needed, then you are no better than any passing stranger on the streets. Why did you even bother with the entrance exam?” 
It wasn’t like Alhaitham to engage in such unnecessary conversation, nor make any excess problems for himself by getting in the bad graces of strangers. However, he was already having a bad day. 
The two friends sneered at him, before getting up and leaving the library. Finally, he can enjoy some silence. He could feel your gaze on him, but he didn’t look up to see the soft stare of amazement and gratitude you were sending his way. 
Alhaitham had gotten up briefly to browse the shelves once again. He had finished his book and am now looking for another to pique his interest. Really, the akasha couldn’t hold the vast amount of unspoken knowledge that books had.
The blunt facts and figures the terminal provided didn’t stimulate his mind the way shifting through the lines and characters printed on books did. It was truly a pity that the nation of wisdom didn’t appreciate the pinnacle vessel of information. 
When he had returned to his desk, teal eyes took note of the small square of baklava placed gently on a napkin. Beside it was the green handkerchief, neatly folded. Alhaitham had already gotten a replacement for said item.
Yet seeing how pristine the fabric was even after a year of not seeing it, sentiment crept up on him. 
“Excuse me. Food is not allowed in the House of Daena. I’m going to ask you to leave.” 
Ah, of course. Alhaitham was having a bad day today. 
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It’s been a long month. With Summer break quickly approaching, it meant that assignments and exams have been crammed by every professor into a short window. Their long tangents must have caught up to them, as they were now pushing the responsibility of tying up the loose ends onto the students. Pathetic really. 
Still, the weather today was clear and the air warm. The bright sun was being blocked out by the thick foliage present on the branches of the tree Alhaitham rested his body against. He had spent the morning finishing all his most pressing assignments. A break was deserved. 
The soft rustle of leaves as the wind sway their branches were starting to lull the young man to sleep. But the sudden sound of grass getting flattened under shoes snatched that pleasure away. 
Tsk, it doesn’t matter. If he leaves his eyes shut and breaths steady then the other person will sooner or later leave him alone. The steps approached a bit closer then stopped just a bit away. He could hear the rustling of a paper bag and another object getting placed near his side.
As quietly as they could, the footsteps trotted away in a hurry. Once he felt that presence disappear, he lifted his eyelids. 
Beside him there was a brown paper bag, the mouth-watering scent of a shawarma wrap wafted into his nose. And the other object? A cup of hot coffee with a small note taped to it. 
I’m so so so sorry for getting you in trouble that time in the House of Daena! Please take this as an apology! I got the most popular combination at the shop. Please take care of yourself and good luck with your exams!
P.S. I just wanted to apologize again for getting you in trouble!!
Alhaitham could practically hear the sheer panic and anxiety from the piece of paper. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but soften. He was never the type to hold on to pointless grudges, there was no need for you to agonize over such a minuscule event. 
Contradicting his original plans for a nap, he took a sip of the hot coffee. It must be a different blend of coffee beans or a new experimental brewing method, the plain black coffee tasted pleasantly sweet on his tongue. 
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“Did you hear? I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, he was a fraudster! I heard he got stripped of his title and even his diploma got rescinded!”  
“I… I can’t believe they were right all along.” 
In the middle of Alhaitham’s third year at the Akademiya, the unfathomable happened. A young student that had yet to even graduate, a mere third year in the middle of their studies, had disproven an accepted theory. A theory that had gone through vetting by the top review boards, and even entered into the akasha. 
After years of long nights and shifting through books long forgotten by scholars, you brought all your evidence and conclusions to the Akademiya review board. 
You wagered your entire academic carrier. 
Your gamble paid out in full. Your findings were significant enough that the board called for an investigation, for another independent experiment of cold fusion to be replicated. A team of other esteemed researchers was established.
They followed every strict protocol for peer review, following each and every document step by the once haughty researcher to his experiment and theory to the highest standard of academic rigor. 
Their conclusion after a four-month trial? Failed experiment after failed experiment to replicate his results? There was no cold fusion. 
This caught the attention of the Matra. For all these years where did those experimental results come from? If his research funds were not going toward creating a better and more effective method of using cold fusion to generate unlimited energy. Then where was it? Their findings? 
Back into the pockets of a few seats on the review board. Funds somehow found themselves in the hands of scholars that had ‘peer reviewed’ his theory the first time around. 
A report from the previously mentioned independent review team detailed his offer of exorbitant amounts of mora for skewed results. That was the final nail in the coffin of his academic carrier. 
It was a great loss of face for the higher-ups and for their esteemed institution. They had let fraudulent nonsense enter the akasha, they allowed this nonsense to poison the minds of civilians and students. Punishment was swift. The higher up on the hierarchy of ego you were, the more crushing the fall will be. 
Now it was he, the lecturer who had ridiculed you with his eager followers for years, who was ostracized from higher academia. 
Alhaitham’s eyes followed the noisy crowd as they congregated around your frame. First years watching you with stars in their eyes, questions were thrown your way, asking just how you did it. How did you know? Your eyes light up the same way, as you detailed your research process of debunking that theory. 
Overnight, you became a star at the Akademiya. The same people who had once sneered at you were now trying to push their way through the crowd to get your attention. The professors that once viewed you as their most hopeless student, were now asking you to become their mentee. You treated everyone the same without any reservations. Smile beaming as you answered their questions. 
“Well, even though I have disproven his theory on cold fusion. I still think it’s an interesting path to explore. Maybe we were just led astray by a red herring. However, I think the most important lesson to gain from this controversy is that every theory should be viewed with some level of skepticism. Until you see the theory actually be put into practice, how will you ever confirm for yourself.” 
You have a really radiant smile, Alhaitham notes. It suits you.
 It’s too noisy in the halls of the Akademiya. He turns to walk away. Missing the way your searching eyes followed him, lips parted wanting to call out to him. Only to be drowned by the shower of empty words of praise. 
“You’re such a gifted student!”
“Wow! I wish I was as talented as you!”
“You’re just a genius!” 
Words that dismissed your years of sleepless nights, tearful breakdowns from pressure, and aching wrists from penning down pages upon pages of notes. 
Ah, the Akademiya was still the Akademiya. Even your breakthrough that shook the institution isn’t enough to spark a change in the environment that had been solidified in the marble of the building. Your eyes still followed this tall figure even after he disappeared from your line of sight. 
Yes, there still was a gust of fresh air that blew through this stale toxicity. You only knew his name… does he even know yours?
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It’s finally over, the tedious task of attending the Akademiya has been completed. 
Alhaitham can now check that achievement off his list. The collaborative project he had been a part of might have fallen through. But the findings it produced in its short lifespan were fruitful. So much so that it granted Alhaitham a position as a Scribe and a sizable house in the city. More currently, it allowed Alhaitham to meet the last requirement for graduation. 
The diploma he holds in his hands right now was the result of his diligence, of just passing every exam with the highest marks despite not attending the class after the first day. Yes, this is the piece of paper he had ‘worked’ so hard for. 
All around him, there were families hugging, crying, and congratulating their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, for graduating. Promises of big feasts prepared at home, or for a celebration in the neighborhood. Friends hugged each other as they said their tearful goodbyes. 
Alhaitham stood alone. 
From the very start, he was a loner, he knew this and he liked it this way. So why does his chest feel a bit heavy? The path that he had preplanned had no obstacles lining the way, every piece fell where it should have. Alhaitham already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to admit it. 
Joyous occasions can really bring out the most isolating sentiments when there was no one to celebrate with. But that is fine, he’s got boxes of books to pack anyways. 
“Um… Excuse me, Alhaitham?” 
A voice halts the ashen-haired man’s step. Teal-orange eyes landed their sights on yours. You were dressed in your graduation robes as well, and a decorated cord hung around your shoulders. Signifying your academic accomplishments during your years as a student. Despite the nervousness in your voice, hands fidgeting with the brown paper bag clutched between them, your eyes looked straight into his. 
“T-this is for you. It’s a pita pocket from Lambard’s tavern. I… I just wanted to thank you for, well, all you’ve done. I-i know we actually haven’t spoken a word to each other these past few years but- but…” You paused, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 
“Your gestures of kindness and empathy really kept me going. Even during the times when I wanted to give up, your actions really meant a lot to me. So, thank you Alhaitham.” Your eyes were staring back at him with pure sincerity. 
The warm late Spring air blew across your faces, tussling his locks as his eyes shifted from the pita pocket in your hands back to your eyes. The slight quivering of your lips signaled to him the anxious wait for his response. 
“Now’s not the place to eat.”
“O-oh…” The bag in your hands lowered. 
“However, I believe if you were to accompany me to Lambad’s Tavern, I don’t think he’ll deny a paying customer a seat. So, how about it?” The boxes at home could wait. 
“Oh?” You looked at him a bit perplexed at the sudden invitation. But it wasn’t long before a beaming smile broke out on your face. 
“Yes, I would love to!” 
It could have been due to the sweet air, or due to the lustrous look that dawned on your face, but Alhaitham felt that he could breathe easier now. 
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It was a sunny afternoon, the perfect weather to do nothing at all. His justification for leaving his desk, piled high with new proposals and applications. Without even looking up from his book Alhaitham could sense the presence approaching his direction. His free hand reached up to turn off noise canceling, there was only one person who would come to find him at this secluded pavilion. 
“Haitham! I got us lunch from Lambad’s Tavern, the special was pita pockets today!” You held a brown takeout bag over your head, one hand cupping your mouth as you called out to him. 
His expression couldn’t help but soften, seeing your figure rapidly closing the distance between the both of you. Your preppy steps stopped just in front of the tall scholar, a small smile gracing your lips as you hid the bag behind your back. Eyes looking at him with anticipation as your back straightened. 
Alhaitham closed his eyes as a soft sigh left his lips, snapping the book in his hands closed as his back pushed off the pillar. Taking a few slow steps to fully close the distance. Gentle fingers cupped your cheek as he leaned down to place a tender kiss just below your eye. He can feel you getting on the tips of your toes, pressing your face more into his lips, he knows you can feel the small smile against your cheek. 
Pulling his face back, thumb still brushing against your other cheek, his teal eyes observed your smile that rivaled the sun.   
“Thank you for the payment, now let’s eat before the lettuce gets all soggy.” You pressed a kiss against his palm. The brown bag reappears from behind you. 
“Yes, of course.” He wanted to observe your face for a little while longer.
Perhaps you should start researching the energy that radiates off your smile, Alhaitham is willing to wager that this hypothesis holds more water than any dismissed notions of cold fusion. 
Fin~
2K notes · View notes
celestiaras · 3 months
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ oh ver, my dearest ]❜
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━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹
ft. ver vermillion x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en
╰₊✧ since it’s your first time, he promises to be gentle┊1.9k words
contains: smut!! dom ver & sub reader┊established relationship, mentions of ver fantasizing, mentions of masturbation (both ver & the reader), first time together & reader’s virginity loss, nipple play, fingering & receiving oral, gentle unprotected sex, slight corruption kink, some praise & body worship, pulling out, pet names (baby) & true love, it’s so fluffy, mentions aftercare
➤ author's note: good god this took way too long and i had to fight the urge for ver to call the reader ‘babygirl’ for the memes because it would ruin the mood
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ver vermillion is your high school sweetheart who’s also your first in everything romantic: your first serious crush, your first date, your first relationship, and your first kiss. he’s your first love, like a prince charming from the movies you watched when you were little. he’s the man you can see yourself settling down with and marrying even though you previously never thought your relationship with the busy student council president would last this long. and, of course, he feels the same way! you’re the apple of his eye and he adores you more than anything, just waiting to stabilize your young adult lives before officially tying the knot. everything in your relationship is perfect with healthy communication about wants and needs resulting in little to no fights!
except there is one thing that he keeps secret from you, that being his physical desires. he doesn’t want to rush you when you aren’t ready or make you ill at ease about something that should be pleasurable so he keeps his pent-up frustrations to himself, making use of his fist and his seemingly infinite list of dirty thoughts regarding you that he has tucked away in his mind. unfortunately, it leaves him feeling somewhat hollow on the inside once he finally reaches for some tissues to clean up after himself. doing it alone relieves the tension at the moment, but it leaves him longing for you even more. despite these shortcomings, it solidifies his resolve even more. he is, of course, a gentleman above all things. your comfort and happiness come above everything, reminding him that your first time together will be even more special when it happens.
the importance he’s placed on this moment makes it feel like a wet dream when it actually happens, not quite the first make-out session you ever had but indeed the first time he’s had you under him like this with dim lighting to help set the mood. you smell like his cologne in his oversized hoodie, notes of vanilla and bulgarian rose mixed with the scent of your shampoo that clung to your damp hair. he ran his fingers through your locks to pull your face closer to his, deepening the kiss and pulling soft moans from you in the process as you hooked your arms around his neck. he was so close to you, bodies pressed up right against each other and making you feel feverish from the inside from want and knowing that you were being wanted.
his hands began to explore your body, reaching under your clothing to trace the outline of your hips to your upper thighs. a slight whine from you made him pull back to check in on you, “is this okay? do you want me to stop?”
“n-no, please, ver… i want…” you were so ethereal and fuckable in that moment that he felt himself twitch in his pants just by looking at your pretty face, lips slightly puffy and pupils dilated with lust. he always finds you beautiful, but something about how innocent you looked with all of your cute tantalizing sounds as you squirmed from his touch had him feeling restless. “i want you."
ver’s heart fluttered and he placed one last chaste kiss before resting his forehead on yours, “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you. i promise to be gentle.” he’ll strive to practice constraint to make sure that your first time will be remembered as romantic and intimate, a step forward together to further strengthen your bond. in time when you’re more comfortable though… he’s going to straight-up ruin you— turn you into his lovely little cock-slut who’ll beg for him so sweetly… but he’s getting ahead of himself.
he’s never seen you so exposed like this, his eyes practically glued to your chest and mesmerized by what the lamplight allowed him to see. whenever he almost catches even a glimpse of you, you would hide away calling him a pervert, but you can now see that you were right even if you were joking. ver was always a boobs guy, you suppose, bringing up his hands to cup your soft breasts just marveling at their size and shape that wasn’t hidden away by a bra.
“don’t stare…” you muttered, “it’s embarrassing.”
ver simply hummed in response, slowly raising your hoodie to remove it from your upper body and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. he turned his focus back on your tits, taking one nipple between his index and thumb before following his instinct to move his mouth to suck on the other. it’s such a foreign sensation since you tend to neglect your bust when experimenting with yourself, but you now realize how sensitive they actually are as you begin to whimper from the feeling. you’re usually so quiet because you were self-conscious about how loud you could get when excited, but oh, you sounded like a song with every moan that rewarded him for his actions as he popped his lips off one hardened nub to give attention to the other.
as nice as it was, you desperately craved more stimulation to soothe the aching heat blooming in your core— not even realizing that you were beginning to subconsciously not-so-subtly grind on your boyfriend’s thigh in an attempt to chase more of the pleasure building.
needless to say, this didn’t get past his observant eyes and made him chuckle, “be patient, i’ll give you everything you want in just a moment.”
“please…” you whispered, voice strained with need, “don’t tease me…”
his index trailed from the valley of your chest to the line down your belly before hooking into the elastic of your panties, pulling them along your legs until you were fully naked on the sheets. even with your lack of clothing, you still felt hot with desire. sensing your unease about being the only one nude, he took the time to strip himself of his baggy t-shirt to put himself on display to you as well— he really is handsome with his tousled red-black hair and unblemished fair skin.
you felt his breath ghost over your heat as he positioned himself between your legs, making you realize just how wet you were even though he hadn’t even touched you there yet. while your eyes were shut tight, his remained open to fixate on your face and expressions while licking long stripes along your slit to your clit. his hands snaked around your thighs to keep you still and prevent them from twitching so much, yet your hands were a different story and reached out to grab onto the sheets under you that were becoming increasingly more disheveled.
ver wrapped his lips around your delicate pearl and gently took it into his mouth, sneaking his slender fingers to press into your hole. it doesn’t quite hurt, but it’s certainly new and had you gasping as he slid a second one in with ease. a mix of your arousal with his saliva was dripping down his chin as he began to move his digits in a scissor-like motion to stretch you out.
“you taste so good,” he smiled against your cunt, his words adding vibrations right through your core, “such a pretty pussy to match your pretty face.”
your airy moans were soon replaced with outright cries of pleasure, your toes curling at the feeling of ecstasy shooting up your spine. unadmittedly, you’ve never made it this far on your own since it always got too intense for you to continue, but thanks to your loving boyfriend, you got the taste your your first orgasm— making you choke and see stars as you drenched his fingers and mouth.
he moved away (high-key feeling proud of himself) after knowing that he prepped you enough to take his rock-hard cock, looking at up him with pleading eyes as he whipped off his mouth with his forearm— not daring to look at the bulge that formed a prominent tent and just meeting his eyes instead. he pulled himself from his sweats and pumped his erection a few times, muttering words that were just out of earshot.
“are you ready, baby?” his voice was somewhat strained with want and trying his very best not to fuck you like a feral animal right now, focusing on your comfort.
the tip of his cock prodding at your virgin entrance made you feel nervous at first, but ver’s kisses all over your face made you feel more at ease and you nodded firmly to indicate that you were ready for him. he took his time to ease himself into you with a desperate sigh, allowing you to feel every inch of him while he came back down to your level to press kisses all over your face.
he wasn’t too big to the point where you thought he would split you open, but it was certainly enough that he had to give you a minute to get used to his size. your lower half was buzzing with pleasure, his cock brushing up against all the right spots in your throbbing cunt that you didn’t even know existed.
once you felt well-adjusted, you let out a shaky breath, “you can move now… p-please… keep going…” you were so shy with the back of your hand covering your mouth as you said it, but ver was about to gladly indulge the two of you with your permission.
“ahh, fuck, you’re so tight…” his pace wasn’t too fast, mainly because he was fixated on where the two of you were connected, unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy greedily sucking him in and making it difficult for him to pull out and push in. “shit, you’re so fucking beautiful, doing soo good for me..,”
all embarrassment of being too loud dissolved once he penetrated you, beginning to freely moan with the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls. he knows it keeps on crossing his mind, but god, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting— seeing you so vulnerable under him and trusting in him for him first had him suddenly feeling full of love just as he felt many times throughout the years of being your lover.
he reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours as he continued to press into you, his pace gradually becoming more sloppy with every move of his hips. the now familiar feeling of a knot tightening in your stomach was signaling your second orgasm, clamping onto his hands until it snapped. he soon followed suit after feeling you contract and spasm around him, doing a few more thrusts before pulling out and spilling his seed onto your torso.
while he could have gone for a few more rounds personally, he knew that you were spent and absolutely exhausted. he proceeded to put on his now-soiled sweatpants properly and gave you another open-mouthed kiss, wiping off the bit of drool trickling out your mouth with his thumb. “let me run a bath for you, okay baby? i’ll wash the sheets and you can sleep afterward, does that sound good?”
you nodded weakly and gratefully accepted the bottle of water he handed to you after opening the cap, watching his retreating figure head into the bathroom to fill it with warm water and probably some bath salts as well.
yep, this was definitely the man you wanted to marry.
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estinininininen · 2 months
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FFXIV fans this is your daily reminder that if Estinien has even a tiny fraction of Nidhogg's memories he knows a hell of a lot more than he's letting on.
Nidhogg remembers at least three Umbral Calamities, and probably four or five. Safe to assume he defended Coerthas from Allag, and that he heard Vrtra looking for Azdaja and the primal-ification of Bahamut through dragon song. The DRG 80 quest states Nidhogg considered himself guardian of the star after Midgardsormr. At his prime, Nidhogg may have even known or been trying to learn his father's abilities - the changing form, the crystals, possibly even the ability to speak with Hydaelyn. Theory time: Hydaelyn may have even rejected him for being a dragon supremacist.
Estinien's shortcomings (if you don't have another silly explanation for them) have to do with mortal knowledge and interactions, like niceties, coin, and bluffing immigration officers. He asks for the Scions to explains things because they have discovered stuff nobody knew before this, or they were using vocabulary he doesn't know.
In Shadowbringers the idea of Ascians doesn't phase him, but the different shards and time travel nonsense throw him for a bit of a loop, coincidentally things Nidhogg wouldn't know. He is very tense at the idea of the WOL seeing his memories, and leaves immediately, but after telling you he shares Nidhogg's memories in 5.5 he chills out and hangs around more. Like he saw the writing on the wall about joining the Scions and covered his own ass in case of an Echo vision.
In Endwalker the reason I think he said "At least I will not pretend to understand this talk of ancient primals or the Final Days" and the like is because he has to constantly sort out if what Nidhogg knew was correct. He is remarkably chill staring up at Hydaelyn like "ya bitch let's go let's fight God." What Hydaelyn said to Estinien about hate becoming love is ambiguous enough it could also apply to Nidhogg.
And you are still the only person he has directly told he shares some memories with Nidhogg. He is deliberately not sharing this with people. He doesn't want to be Nidhogg. Most of the information is pointless outside of Coerthas in the 7th astral era. He makes an exception when he is the only one who knows something important - there's a Great Wyrm behind the curtain, how to motivate depressed dragons, the Eyes of Nidhogg are active again better find them, Omega? wait the thing that chased Midgardsormr? if not me better make sure someone handles it, oh shit Zenos is standing back up that's not Zenos anymore-
Then he just wants to have a drink and some dried squid and chill out. Not get interrogated about past kingdoms, or have his brain and eyes poked at when he dies ( . . . if he's even mortal anymore.)
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tsukimefuku · 1 month
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The man who played with fire
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After some drinks by yourself and getting frustrated with someone, you stupidly knock on Higuruma's door to test a theory.
To vibe: Misery - Maroon 5
Tags: +18 (!!!), WITH PLOT (there is always a plot), Jujutsu Kaisen, SMUT, f!reader, Higuruma x reader, some alcohol consumption,  he's so in love, she's so clueless, reader is being kind of an asshole, oral sex, cunt-locking, penetration, light f!top x m!bottom dynamic, involves some love-triangle classic shenanigans.
WC: 3.4K
Hey, this is actually my first smut piece! Hope you guys enjoy my filth. This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU", a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x f!reader x Higuruma fanfic I'll eventually write (eventually). This is preceded specially by "Kindness and Sunflowers", link here. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)  
Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
Fair warning: I like writing characters being humanely assholes and clueless idiots. Be warned. 
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"I can't believe this," you muttered to yourself. You were drinking alone at the bar, and the darkness served to hide your blushed-by-fury face. After what you called The Event, Nanami asked to talk, only to end up lecturing you about the shortcomings of a jujutsu sorcerer's life. As if you didn't know, given all the losses you had experienced over the years, precisely due to Tengen's established Jujutsu Society. "He can't be serious, lecturing me about this shit." Still talking to yourself, like a crazy person, you tried to let your anger go down with five cold pints of beer. It was definitely not working.
Your phone rang, and Nanami's name lit up on your screen, much to your annoyance. You immediately refused the call and flipped the phone down on the table, feeling all your rage bubbling up from the darkest depths of hell. You needed a release, any kind of release — an exorcism, most likely.
Or, you could try something else.
Peering around the bar, you started looking for someone that you could consider even remotely interesting — but no one, nothing, nada. Given this was a Tuesday night, there were only you and some monotonous people scattered around the murky lighting, encompassed by the noise of a few clicking glasses. 
That was when your phone started to rumble to the sound of some text messages, and you grabbed it ready to pitch the phone across the vicinity, believing it was Nanami again. But, much to your surprise, it was actually Higuruma texting you. You were so angry that you had completely forgotten to talk to him today.
He was basically asking how you were, given that you hadn't texted back since yesterday, and you were both chatting on a daily basis for weeks by this point.
That was when you had a greatly horrible (or horribly great?) idea. After all, how could a decision made under the influence, at night, while angry at someone you knew you had feelings for, be bad? This is fine.
"Are you busy right now?" You sent him, feeling the beer breeze warmly through your nostrils every time you exhaled. You have a crush on him, but that's it, this is fine. And oh, you did. Ever since you dropped him off in his apartment the night he was freed from Jujutsu High's headquarters, you knew that there was definitely something stirring up — at least from your end. Higuruma was drunk, he didn't make a move, and could just have been kind of clingy, to be honest, so you decided to let it go for the time being. Every time you got a little too excited to meet or talk to him recently, you reminded yourself very sternly you weren't a schoolgirl.
But you wouldn't let it go today, because today, you really wanted to know.
"Nothing, really. I just got home." Higuruma promptly answered.
"Can I come over?" You texted back, and locked your screen right after, instantly anxious and eager at the same time. What the fuck is wrong with me? What am I thinking? What am I doing? This can't be a good ide-
"Of course, I'd be delighted." He replied. "And then you could actually see the sunflower is doing very well, in spite of me."
You left the money on the counter and ran off, shushing your thoughts out loud.
***
This was a terrible idea, but I think I can just hang out for an hour, make small talk and then leave, you started to negotiate mentally with yourself right after the three knocks on the door gave some sanity back to your brain. 
However, after Higuruma opened the door and cocked his head to lean it against the door frame, you knew you were completely doomed. He had the top of his white shirt unbuttoned, his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up enough for you to see his beautifully defined forearms. His hair had the perfect messy-I-just-got-home look to it, and you instantly wanted to drive your hands through his pitch black locks. 
Oh shit, you thought to yourself, feeling something stir up in your body — and it surely wasn't anger.
It must have been a moment, because he started to look a little puzzled. "Hey, come in." Higuruma said, as if he was repeating himself. Did you not hear him the first time he invited you in? 
"Of course. Thank you." You replied, looking down and hushing yourself inside his apartment. You could feel your face burning, and imagined how much of an idiot you were being right now for ever believing this could go anything but wrong.
"Are you okay? You seem out of sorts." He pointed out, closing the door behind him. "Can I get you anything? I got some beer from the convenience store, and there might be water somewhere in the kitchen."
"I'm fine, I just ran here to get some cardio." You clumsily replied, sitting on the couch. "I came from the bar, actually. Already drank some beers. No need."
Higuruma huffed out a soft chuckle, still a little confused, but now intent on prying. "You're not helping your case. You mean to say that you, a jujutsu sorcerer that exercises heavily, decided to get some cardio done while walking under the influence, from a bar, at night, to meet me?"
"Yes. That's what I meant. Quit prying." You responded, not knowing what the hell else you could say. Tell him that you came rushing just so you wouldn't have the time for second guessing on having s- no, you wouldn't do that.
"Hm." He hummed to himself, grabbing a can and sitting beside you, bouncing the sofa slightly. "I mean, I'm always happy to have you come over, but the only time you came here was to bring me drunk from a bender. And to get me flowers."
"Get you a sunflower, because yours had died." You corrected.
"Precisely, a sunflower." Higuruma replied, taking a sip from his beer. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I just wanted to see you." You said, earnestly. And deep down, it was true, if only half of it.
Higuruma immediately seemed content, even if he only had a small smile to show for it on his face. "Oh."
You were both silent for a moment.
"I never got to repay you for your kindness that day." He said, out of the blue, taking you by surprise.
"It was nothing." You said, shrugging. "I just got you home and gave you a flower."
"Oh, if I remember correctly…" He began.
"Do you remember anything?" You asked, mockingly.
He looked at you, slightly grinning, and continued. "You had to blow up my lock to bust us in. In some places, that would be considered a felony."
"You're saying I could get arrested for busting into a home while I'm with the man that lives there?"
"You also used explosives and damaged the door, let's not forget that." Higuruma said in a mix of playful and matter-of-factly.
"I couldn't ask, because you were completely wasted! Just getting your address was a pain in the ass."
He chuckled. "Was it?"
"Yes, it was." You replied, more relaxed, thanks to coming back to your old banter. This came for the both of you so naturally that you barely realized Higuruma had rested his arm on the sofa right behind you, leaning closer. "Higuruma, why did you drink so much that night?"
That question surprised him, as you could deduct from his eyes widening lightly. He put his beer can on the coffee table and ran his fingers through his hair, inhaling deeply. "I don't know. I guess-" he stuttered for a moment. "I guess I was just nervous to be out again, finally and properly going for a drink with..." his last word lingered on the air, as he unconsciously looked at your eyes, and then your lips, "with you all."
"Do you remember what you said when we got here?" You asked, shamelessly staring at his lips too.
"I believe I said, 'you are too kind'." Higuruma leaned over even further, and you felt his entire body go rigid for a second as you drifted closer to him, heat crawling all over your skin, putting your forehead to his. After some seconds, he rested the palm of his hand over your knee, and from how needy you felt for that man at that particular moment, even such a small thing was enough to make you trip over to the other side.
You immediately crushed your lips to his, putting your hands behind his head. You kissed him eagerly, letting out an extremely faint moan as you drove your fingers over his hair — he tasted like beer, his worn off cologne from the day was completely intoxicating, and you found yourself nearly lunging at the man like a starved animal. Realizing what just happened, you pulled back, starting to apologize, eyes wide and face completely flustered. "Higuruma, I'm so sor-"
Your apologies were cut short with his own lips now clashing into yours in a passionate kiss, as he pushed you under his weight to lay on the couch, his fingers interlocking in your hair strands from the back of your head. His hips effortlessly slid in between your legs as your hands made their way to brush his shoulders, and you let out another moan against his lips, this time much louder, thanks to the dry pressure of his now bulging pants against your clothed core. Higuruma groaned satisfied in response, tracing the outline of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Your mind was becoming hazy, and he parted from your lips for a moment to gaze at your face. His eyes were locked on you, studying every feature and investigating for any sign of discomfort or second thoughts.
You caught up on that and made your way inside his slightly open mouth with your own tongue, intertwining it with his in between gasps and huffs. Now you separated just enough to breathlessly say, "Bed. Now."
You gasped against his mouth, before holding yourself throwing your arms behind his neck and locking your legs on his waist, grinding on him. He moaned loudly at this stimulation, before smiling sheepishly and putting both of his hands on the back of your thighs for support, knowing full well you meant for him to carry the both of you into the bedroom.
"Yes, ma'am." He replied, propping the both up and then lifting from the couch. Higuruma pressed open-mouthed kisses all around the nape of your neck, as he walked towards a dark room, parting his hands from you just to switch the light on. "I want to see you," he said, breathing heavily against your skin, as he threw you on the bed, climbing on top, one hand to each side of your head as he stared at you with a lustful look in his eyes. You instantly pulled his loosened tie to kiss him again, and he lost balance, basically falling with his body over yours. You whimpered at the feeling of having his now full-blown clothed erection grinding against your core, and involuntarily opened your legs to accommodate his hips over yours.
Higuruma started to take off his tie and shirt, and you followed suit, removing your top and bra. He basked on the sight of you, and cupped both of your breasts in his hands. His digits felt rough, and frictioned just the right amount against you, as he squeezed both of them, satisfied and reverent. His hands started traveling down your figure, contouring every curve, hill, and valley of your body, reaching the edge of your pants. "May I?" He asked, his face lightly blushed as he awaited your response. You nodded, and he promptly unzipped you, pulling your pants and panties down, the slight stimulation from the fabric sliding over your legs being enough to make you mewl with satisfaction. Every nerve in you was incandescent with absolute hunger for him.
You opened your legs, and he could see you were already completely wet from arousal. Letting out an audible satisfied moan, Higuruma began tracing your belly with his mouth, planting long kisses as he went down, leaving a trail of heat wherever his lips touched. As he got near your core, he kissed one last time one of your thighs, and sniffed on your folds. You smelled sinfully sweet, and he made no effort to hold back his eyes fluttering shut with pure bliss. "Could I, please?"
This was his prayer, the bed was his altar and he was determined to worship you.
Without a word, you simply grabbed the top of his hair and drove his mouth in between your legs, whimpering and mewling as his tongue started to rub against your clit. His chin would grind forward on your entrance whenever he changed the angle, and you involuntarily pushed yourself down when that happened. He noticed it, and slid his tongue inside you, eliciting a loud moan in response, with your walls clenching around it. He groaned back in appreciation, and his husky, low voice reverberated throughout your entire being. You arched your back, beginning to feel that familiar heat and fire pooling on your lower stomach.
"H-Higuruma... I-" You sighed, in between mewls and moans.
He immediately stopped and brought his face up to look at you. You let out a complaint sound, glaring at him to ask why he stopped.
"My dear, I'm literally with my face in between your legs, eating you out." He said, unfazed by your annoyance. "We're way past last names. Call me Hiromi."
Incredulous, you let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff, having the top inside of you wiggling its way out to the surface. You grabbed his hair strongly, and he cinched his eyebrows, cock twitching inside his pants, as the corner of his lips formed an open-mouthed smile. His eyes were softly resting on you, and he wouldn't mind if your naked, flushed body was the last thing he saw before he died.
"Shut up." You said, grinding your pussy against his mouth, and locking his head to your core with your legs tightly holding around him. Higuruma proceeded more eager than before, lapping at your clit relentlessly with his tongue, alternating with sucks that were having you seeing stars. He was absolutely pussy drunk with the heavenly taste of you and had, at this moment, relinquished any control, as he let you face fuck him chasing your release.
The heat came back again, and you closed your eyes, sinking the back of your head on a pillow. Waves were starting to form, and your orgasm hit you like the crashing water against the shore. You began to tremble and vibrate, coming hard in his mouth, and Higuruma feverishly drank you up, completely hypnotized with how amazing you tasted and felt, falling apart under his ministrations. 
Letting you finish riding your high, licking gently on your overstimulated core, he waited until you were barely moving before removing his own pants and climbing his way back on top of you. As he got close enough to your face, you looked at him, completely flustered and debauched, resting the palm of your hand on his cheek. "Higuruma, I want you inside of me." His tongue, albeit magnificent, just wasn't enough, and you could feel the same anticipation and neediness coiling in your stomach again, as the tip of his cock rested on your entrance.
He looked at you and grunted, displeased. "Hiromi." Higuruma reached to the bedside table and pulled a condom. The movement had him rubbing his throbbing length, already leaking with pre-cum, right against you, forcing him to let out a strained groan.
You gasped at the sensation and chuckled at his annoyance right after, suddenly locking his hips in between your legs, rolling you both so that you would be on top of him. "We'll see, if you ask nicely." You replied, locking him in between your arms, hovering. Higuruma's eyes instantly softened, and his cheeks took a pinkish-red tint. "You're bossy." He said, turning his head towards your wrist and planting a chaste kiss on it, lingering with his lips for a moment on your skin. "I like it."
You smiled, more pleased than you'd like to admit it, because the both of you fit so well it was astonishing. You never thought it would be happening like this, and for a moment, it felt so right you wished you could be here forever. But nothing that good ever lasts long enough.
Grabbing the condom from him with one hand, you motioned the other to grab his neglected cock. As your fingers grasped around his length, Higuruma let out a satisfied and urgent moan, slowly arching himself under your touch. The sight of him completely pliable to your will had you fluttering, as you began to rub your hands up and down, pumping his girth to pleasure him. Higuruma plastered his palms over the plush of your thighs, and groaned your last name, holding out on some kind of desperation. 
"'Way past last names', huh?" You scoffed, playfully, starting to slide the condom over his cock before he could hit you with any witty comeback. After, you positioned yourself above him, holding his length against your entrance, and started to slowly descend over it, feeling it thrust in you to the brim, stretching your walls as he bottomed out. You both let out a gasp, now connected, and you waited a moment to adapt and take all of him in.
"Come here." You said, pulling on his shoulder for him to sit up, so that you could feel and touch every inch of him. He obliged, and sat up, immediately driving his mouth to kiss your neck insistently, brushing the tip of his tongue on the edge of your jaw. Higuruma began to rock his hips, and you did the same, each in the opposite direction, so that his cock would slide in and out of your pussy easily.
You moaned against his scalp, and he held his hands to the small of your waist, leaning you backwards to suck on your breasts. The moment his mouth latched onto one breast, he rolled your other nipple between his fingers, eliciting loud moans and mewls from you. You had your head dangling back, as he began to thrust into you quicker and harder. He slid the hand previously on your waist to the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a kiss, taunting your mouth with his tongue. You opened it, and both your tongues intertwined, as he, now, chased his own release, panting and groaning into your lips. You weren't so far off, feeling the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen, yearning for release.
"Higu-"
"Hiromi, please. P-please... Please..." He implored and begged, kissing desperately your jawline. You lowered your gaze and met his eyes softer and more tender than you had ever seen, so urgently pleading for you to let him in, give him this inch of intimacy, and that was the moment you caved. You pressed your forehead against his, and started to cry out his name. "Hiromi... H-Hiromi..."
Letting out moans and groans in between the squelching from your juices, he pulled you impossibly close, eyes piercing and locked onto yours. This was the moment you felt more naked, bare and vulnerable the entire night, and the coil that had formed in your belly snapped, sending waves of pure pleasure from the tip of your head to your toes. Feeling your gummy walls clenching all around him, Higuruma also hit his orgasm intensely, thrusting into you fervently to ride off his high. He stopped slowly, ready to crumble underneath you at any moment.
"Hiromi-" You said, brushing your lips against his cheek, then under his ear. "Hiromi, Hiromi, Hi-ro-mi. Happy? Just for tonight, though."
Higuruma chuckled soulfully, realizing how much he absolutely loved the sound of his name on your tongue, purred through your whispered voice, reverberating on his flushed, sensitive skin. It made his body quiver and tremble with pure satisfaction. 
It was right there, at that moment, with his heart fluttering while you leaned back to gaze at him, stroking his hair strands between your fingers with a gentle smile, that he realized just how fucked he actually was.
Sighing softly and smiling back, Higuruma pushed his lips against yours. He knew that by playing with fire, he was bound to get burned, eventually — and burned he was.
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soapyghostie · 23 days
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Hey! Absolutely random request, but imagine reader being a tired person that out of wounds and stress they just fall asleep when they're being carried, about to go on a hook. How would the dbd killers(any, really) react?
Like, imagine. Being carried, without anything under legs can already make someone sleepy if they don't have adrenaline pumped through their veins. Plus, i know that having wounds(aka blood loss) can make people very tired.
Since this request it a little vague, I decided to get a little creative with it and wrote some angst because I’m a sucker for angst with dad slashers (except Frank is your big brother in this request). 😭 Hope you enjoy!
The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson
Danny would be confused at first, bloodlust still kicking through his veins even after killing all our teammates as he carries you, his injured daughter, to the hook (Sorry (Y/N), he’s just doing his job. No hard feelings). He’ll pause for a moment, trying to process the fact that you feel asleep on his shoulder.
As he realizes that you fell asleep due to exhaustion and stress from your wounds, Danny’s demeanor would soften and his parental instincts within him kicks in. He’ll gently adjust you in his arms from being thrown over his shoulder to being carried bridal style, ensuring that you’re comfortable even as he still proceeds to hook you. 
Seeing you in such a vulnerable state would stir up a lot of internal conflict in Danny. He’s torn between his role as a merciless killer and his love for you as his daughter as he hesitates to sacrifice you to the Entity. Danny’s had a lot of bad performances in trials lately and he really needs the 4K. However, to get the 4K he needs to sacrifice you. Of course it has to be you: the Entity is so cruel. 
As to not get punished by the Entity, sadly, Danny will throw you onto the hook. Danny would feel a pang of remorse and sadness. He knows that he’s the cause of your pain and exhaustion, and seeing you in such a vulnerable state serves as a painful reminder of the life he’s subjected you to. He silently reflects on his actions and their consequences. He’ll gaze at your sleeping form dangling from the hook, grappling with the complexities of his emotions and the choices he made. 
Despite his conflicted emotions, Danny remains committed to his role in the Entity’s twisted game. However, Danny’s determination to protect you remains unwavering. He’ll play the Entity’s game and continue this dark path as a killer if it means to ensure your safety as he doesn’t want you to be harmed as a result of his shortcomings… 
The Legion/Frank Morrison
Frank would be initially shocked and panicked to see you, his younger sister, in such a vulnerable state. Despite his tough ‘bad boy’ exterior, he deeply cares about you and seeing you hurt triggers his protective instincts. 
The sight of you falling asleep from exhaustion and stress while carrying you to the hook fills Frank with anger and frustration. He’ll curse under his breath, feeling powerless to protect you and frustrated with the situation at hand. First off, your god damn heavy after going unconscious and, secondly, he has no choice but to hook you due to the amount of failed trials he’s had lately to try and please the Entity. 
Despite his anger, Frank, also like Danny, would feel a sense of inner conflict. On one hand, he wants to lash out at the Entity for throwing her into a trial with him, but on the other hand, he knows he has to get the 4K by hooking you so you end up safe and sound at the survivor camp instead of the agony the Entity threatened to put you through if he didn’t start stepping it up in trials. You’re the reason he has the strength to keep going in this awful, twisted game of cat and mouse. 
Frank would grapple with the feeling of guilt and responsibility for your condition. As your older brother, he feels entitled to preventing you from getting hurt in the first place and blames himself for everything that has happened to you. Despite his conflicting emotions, he would carefully and gently place you on the hook, making sure you're as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. As he watches you sleep on the hook, Frank would have a quiet moment of reflection. He reminisces about y’all’s childhood together and vows silently to himself to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 
Seeing you vulnerable would only fuel Frank’s determination to perform better in trials. He would be even more relentless in his pursuit of survivors, driven by the desire to protect you from the Entity’s hungry claws. 
The Shape/Michael Myers
Michael would pause, a flicker of confusion crossing his expressionless face. The sight of you, his daughter, falling asleep despite the dire circumstances briefly disrupts his usual relentless pursuit to satisfy his murderous desires. 
Deep within his obscured psyche, a conflict brews. While Michael is driven by an insatiable urge to kill, his parental instincts stir, conflicting with his murderous impulses. This momentary hesitation leads to a brief internal struggle, the likes of which observers of Michael would never perceive. 
Despite the task at hand and the chaos of the trial, Michael momentarily freezes, holding your unconscious body with an eerie stillness. His iconic breathing momentarily ceases, as if he too, like Danny and Frank, were contemplating the peculiar situation. 
In a rare display of tenderness, Michael gingerly adjusts your position, ensuring that you're comfortable even as he prepares to hook you. His movements would be precise, almost caring, as if he’s trying to shield you from further harm, even in your unconscious state. As he gazes upon your sleeping form, fragments of memories flicker through Michael’s mind. Images of you as a child, innocent and untouched by the darkness that now envelopes you both, momentarily soften his gaze, perhaps even cause a subtle twitch at the corners of his mouth – a long-forgotten smile. You are his world. 
Ultimately, the weight of his desire to kill and the futility of his attempts to connect with you wash over Michael. With a heavy heart hidden beneath his iconic mask, he proceeds with the task at hand – sacrificing you to the Entity. With a solemn determination, Michael carries you to the hook, his obsession with killing eclipsing any semblance of any paternal sentiment.
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vulpisnocturna · 7 months
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hello <3 i hope you’re doing well! could i please request prompt 7 and 14 for Itachi? thank you in advance hehe
It would be my pleasure ;)
7: Power Imbalance
14: Rough Sex
Masterlist
Kinktober Day 2: Power Imbalance with Itachi
Warnings: power imbalance, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, creampie, no massacre au
You let out a slight huff as you listened to your Captain drone on about mission duties. You found him to be patronising. He wasn’t mean, he was quite polite, actually, but his tone reminded you of a teacher scolding a petulant child. You were no child, and though he might have been a more experienced ANBU and your Captain, you were still Lieutenant, and you weren’t weak by any means.
‘Are you listening to me?’ he quipped, smooth, deep voice slightly irked, as if he thought you immature.
‘Yes. You said follow orders. Got it’ you said, crossing your arms and staring at him. The room of the inn you were staying in for the night was cold, and your uniform did not provide much coverage.
‘I said that five minutes ago’ he lifted a dark eyebrow, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he was tired of you. 
‘Did the topic of your monologue change since then?’ you snapped, disliking his attitude. For someone so impassive, his irritation was sure seeping through the cracks of his calm façade.
‘I detect some hostility, paired with clear insubordination’ he said. 
‘Not to be rude, Captain, but it’s hard to respect you when you speak to me in such a patronising tone’ you said, aware that even though you had prefaced your sentence with that disclaimer, your tone would be considered rude. But you trusted your captain to be able to have a conversation around the weight of the argument and not rules.
‘It’s hard for you to follow my orders is what I am gathering from your tone- which is, once again, impudent’ he said, tapping his fingers on his toned bicep. You let out a sigh, rubbing your tired eyes.
‘I’m being honest here. If you want the teamwork, you gotta work for it’ you said, sure that by being more forward with your complaints you could make some steps in the right direction. Itachi was a reasonable guy, a patient one, even though you knew well not to push him too far. 
‘I see. I cannot have a subordinate who clearly revels in defying me. It could prove utterly dangerous in a mission’ he said, looking down at you. Your brow furrowed, and you swallowed, shaking your head.
‘You can’t fire me’
‘I am not going to fire you. I am going to teach you how to follow orders. Despite your… shortcomings, you are a capable kunoichi, and I cannot replace you. Therefore, you are going to have to learn’ he said, his face unreadable. Your lips parted, and you took a step towards him, overtaken by annoyance at him saying you had shortcomings but also butterflies in your stomach at the words that had followed his backhanded compliment.
‘What do you mean sh-‘ you started to say, but was interrupted when Itachi closed the distance between you and placed his hands on your waist, his head dipping to kiss your neck. You let out a soft gasp, your heart hammering in your chest as Itachi’s- your Captain’s lips pressed against your pulse point, tracing your artery to the junction of your shoulder and neck, where you could not contain a small whimper.
‘Captain, what-’ you breathed, your mouth dry as Itachi continued kissing, making you feel hot all over.
‘Do you trust your Captain? Or are you incapable of that too?’ he murmured against your ear, nipping at your lobe, ‘you need be taught a lesson on rules. I believe enjoyable lessons often lead to better results, considering my monologues do not seem to work on you’ 
You could not believe your ears. Itachi wanted his lesson to be delivered through fucking? Not that you would stop him, Gods, he was the most attractive man you had ever met, but how was this going to teach you how to follow mission rules?
‘I- trust you. But how is this going to help you?’ you whispered, your face growing hot as Itachi’s hand slid to your ass, cupping and squeezing.
‘That’s all I need to know. No more questions’ he said again, voice low and seductive, just before he turned you, wrapping his arms around you, sucking on your neck.
You let out a soft moan, pressing your ass against him, to which he chuckled.
‘The first thing you need to learn’ he drawled, one hand lifting to knead your breasts, ‘is patience. Until I say it’s time, you wait. Understood?’ 
You weren’t sure you were following him, but you nodded a little, and Itachi hummed in a satisfied tone, helping you take off your undershirt. He must have taken off his too, because your next contact with him was skin to skin. The pad of his fingers grazed your nipple, and you shivered, now rutting against the bulge in his trousers.
‘Stay still. Patience, pretty girl’ he said, pinching your nipple harshly when you didn’t listen to him and rolled your hips against him again. You whimpered, squirming, to which his teeth sank on your shoulder, making you moan loudly.
‘The more you disobey, the rougher I will get. And if you continue, I won’t let you cum’ he said, and you gritted your teeth, the pressure in your lower stomach growing along with your impatience.
Itachi was slow but deliberate as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, completely ignoring your lower body to the point where you thought you might implode soon. You tried to pull his hand lower, but he clucked his tongue, one hand squeezing your throat, long, willowy fingers pressing on the sides.
‘What did I just say? Lesson two: you ask me for permission. You do not act by yourself without my knowledge’ he said, and you closed your eyes, biting down on your bottom lip.
‘Can you touch me, Captain?’ you tried, hating the way you had to ask him to do it. And yet, at the same time, it was turning you on. The power he had, the control he had stripped from you in a matter of seconds…
‘Good girl’ he crooned, and you swore a small moan left your lips at his words. He yanked down your trousers, cupping you between your legs, applying some pressure.
‘See? It seems you enjoy obedience after all’ he said, dragging his fingers over your clothed cunt. Your hips twitched, and your face flushed at the humiliating comment. He slid his hand under your panties, two fingers easily pushing inside you. He curled them, and you stopped breathing for a second, a lewd moan pouring out of your lips as he found the perfect spot. 
‘Ahh- Captain…’ you breathed, one arm lifting to anchor yourself to his nape.
You started moving your hips into his hand, and his fingers curled on your hip, keeping you still.
‘I did say stay still, darling’ he said, pumping his fingers in and out, the palm of his hand rubbing against your sensitive clit, making you whine for him. 
‘Keep going- I’m close’ you keened, a distressed groan tearing through you as he stopped, slipping his fingers out of you.
‘Lesson three: what I say goes. You don’t call the shots’ he said, pushing you on the futon, taking off your trousers and soaked panties, taking off the remainder of his clothes and climbing on top of you.
He wasted no time, thrusting inside you, tearing a whine from you and a soft groan from him. 
‘Fuck- so tight’ he murmured, gripping your thigh, bottoming out and thrusting back in. 
‘Captain- fuck…’ you let out, your nails embedded in the pale skin of his upper back. He latched onto your neck again, sucking harshly.
‘Now, it will be rough, as a consequence for your behaviour in this mission’ he said, starting at a relatively slow pace, but his thrusts were deep, pressing against your g-spot and making you see stars and squeeze around him. You nodded, your eyes dazed as Itachi lifted one of your legs and quickened the pace, making it hard and fast, until tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes and your cunt was pulsing around him, a devastating orgasm washing you.
But he did not relent. He lifted your other leg, slamming his hips against you, letting out soft moans and grunts, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix, making you unable to speak or think, even when he released one of your legs in order to wrap his fingers around your throat once again. You could feel him everywhere, dragging along your walls, stretching you out, the slight upward tilt of his cock deliciously pressing against your g-spot in a way that made you lose your damn mind.
‘Ahh- I-tachi… Captain…’ you moaned, clawing at the blanket until your knuckles whitened and ached.
‘Lesson four: learn politeness. Now ask nicely’ he said relentlessly, the shadow of a smirk on his face, his eyes now red with his sharingan. You stared at him, entranced, your own eyes bleary and expression dazed from just how good it felt. 
And yet, you didn’t want to have to beg for it. Didn’t want to stoop that low, even if he was your Captain, even if he felt so good-
He slipped out of you, turning you on your stomach, lifting your hips up and spreading your thighs with his knee, sinking back into you, his hand fisting your hair and pulling as he smacked your ass hard. You whined, biting down on your lip.
‘Ask nicely, and I will let you cum’ he said, fingers digging in your hip as he continued to fuck you, though he was avoiding your g-spot on purpose, and in this position, his cock reached even deeper, felt even bigger.
‘Fuck- please, Captain’ you moaned, and he clucked his tongue, seemingly displeased.
‘Please what? Words, darling. If you can manage them’ he taunted, and you cursed, tears staining your feverish cheeks.
‘Please, let me cum, Captain. Want it- so bad’ you cried out, and immediately, he rewarded you with his fingers on your clit, deft and skilled, and you felt the band in your stomach tighten and snap, releasing. Your cunt clamped around his cock, throbbing with your orgasm, and you heard him moan softly, fingers pulling on your hair even harder -not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you whine filthily for him.
‘That’s a good girl’ he huffed out, his own voice sounding breathy, as though he was close, ‘where can I-’
‘Cum inside me- please… on the pill- inside me’ you stammered, still coming down from your high, and he lifted you up, wrapping strong arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a soft moan and spent himself inside you, pushing a few times before he stilled. 
He held you up, and you were grateful for it, unsure if you would have been able to stay upright if it weren’t for his arms.
He slipped out of you, helping you to lie back down as he leaned on his elbow, catching his breath. A minute later, he was already up, putting on a pair of trousers and disappearing in the bathroom. When he came back, he had a damp towel, which he used on your inner thighs, even after you told him you could clean yourself up.
‘Did you learn your lesson?’ he asked after you were both back in your clothes and lying down on the futon, and you turned to him in the dim light of the room, sucking in your lips to keep from grinning.
‘I’m not sure. Might need some revising’
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dionewrites · 11 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃. ˚₊ HEADCANONS // ft. Mammon 1k words · GN!Reader · SFW · Feel-good & Fluff ♛ Masterlist | Request Guidelines
⚠ Content Warning: Mention of his demon form, debts and creditors, Mammon being jealous, and reader being insecure, insulted, stressed, and unhappy. ✎ Note: I finally finished it! It took me four days because my assignments these past few days wore me out. Leviathan’s next to my list~ ♡
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Mammon never thought he’d have a special someone back then, more so to be swept off his feet by a human. However, after meeting and spending time with you, you constantly occupy his mind at every moment of the day, adamantly dwell in his heart, and eventually become a part of him.
He adores you just the way you are. He’s already impressed by you and who you are and undoubtedly captivated by your charms when you’re yourself; hence you don’t have to change anything about yourself to prove, please, or win his approval. You don’t always have to be the best version of yourself with him because he accepts and embraces all parts of you. It’s okay not to be strong all the time. It’s okay not to do well and stumble a little bit.
Even by just existing, you’re already enough and the best in his eyes—and whoever dares to speak otherwise and insult you will drive him to turn into his demon form and goes into a serious and protective mode. He has quite a long history of being criticized and belittled harshly; therefore, he certainly doesn’t want you to go through that as well, especially since you never deserve to be treated that way. This demon rarely transforms into his form and loses his temper, but trust me; he doesn’t and will never hold himself back when it comes to matters concerning you.
He wants to be always there for you through good and especially during bad times, just like you do whenever he feels he has no one to lean on. Although he thinks and feels he couldn’t accomplish anything that utterly helps you or your situation, he still wants to do his utmost and be there for and with you no matter what, despite his belief that he may not be necessary or you might be able to manage it on your own. He silently hopes for his presence or the ambiance he creates by being there to comfort, give you peace and assurance, and be your safe place.
On top of that, he knows he’s not good with words, so most of the time, he expresses his concern and affection for you through little actions, such as carrying out your assigned house chores or errands before you can even do them, cooking or buying your favorite foods to make sure you eat, leaving presents for you that reminds him of you or something he thinks you’d like, taking you to spontaneous trips or late night drives around the Devildom with only the two of you, and simply laying your head on his shoulders or chest while he plays with your hands and fingers.
To make you laugh or entertain, he once begged involved his crow familiars in creating a special and memorable performance for you. He got that idea after watching the moonfish scene in Finding Nemo and thought it’ll bring a smile to your face. 
Even though he’ll not verbally admit it, he works hard to be the best one for you. He’s cognizant of his shortcomings, especially with his financial troubles, and being with him as his partner means you’re also inevitably involved in his mess. All the “love letters” his older brother received and settled back then now fall and entrust to your hands and shoulders (though Lucifer still helps occasionally if necessary). All the witches or other species he has serious business with might come to you instead of him. Thus, he spares no effort to control his sin and avoids getting into grave trouble that might implicate and burden you.
Nothing goes unnoticed by him to anything about you. He’s extra-observant and secretly takes notes of what attracts your attention. Spectacles? He wears it the next day. Blue? He’ll wear blue and buys gifts for you only in that color. Flowers? Expect him to give you a bouquet; if he’s short of money, you’ll receive them as origami (which looks ugly clumsy, but give him an A+ for the thought and effort). Whenever he sees you, he always fixes himself to look more presentable and attractive before you notice him. Everything revolves around keeping you interested and impressed by him; hence, he wants to look good in your eyes.
Although he’s terrible at keeping his surprises for you a secret, he never forgets and misses your birthdays and anniversaries. This demon has those special days on his mind months before the actual date and is excited to celebrate it with you.
He calls you “babe” verbally but “baby” in his mind. Every time he slips the tongue, he’ll blush really hard because he feels awkward and embarrassed that you’ll think of it as a cringe. After all, you’re a grown person, but he really can’t stop himself from addressing you like that, especially when he’s over the moon.
Whenever he’s full of the joys of spring, he loves hugging and spinning you around or taking you in his arms, lifting you up, and twirling you around while giggling and pecking on your cheeks, nose, and forehead. Once he realizes what he just did, he flushes but still proceeds to shower you words of love and appreciation.
When he’s jealous, he becomes quiet and grumpy. He’ll instantly grab your attention back to him with a long face, and if you still don’t stop or pay no heed to him, he’ll put his arms around your shoulder while scowling at the one/s he’s jealous of, or he’ll just take you away and kiss you somewhere until you’re out of breath.
His love languages are gift-giving and quality time. He’s constantly reminded of everything about you, so he can’t resist buying something when you’re not with him to make you happy and satisfied. Seeing you smile makes him feel warm and giddy. He also loves being with you all the time and receiving your whole and undivided attention because, for him, as long as you’re with him or it involves you, it’s all worthwhile.
Dating Mammon means being someone’s everything. Despite being in the grip of greed toward money, he values and loves you more than anything and anyone in three worlds. After all, you’re the only one who sees the best in him when others only always see the worst. That being so, just say a word, and he’s more than willing to give you everything and more.
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𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟙𝟠 ✧₊
|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||
@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts
day 18: Sensory Deprivation Gags, Service Top/Power Bottom, Bloodplay
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𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
| PAIRING(s): Javi G x menstruating!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 1.9k | CONTENT: menstruation-centered erotic acts, Javi G is a cinnamon roll freak-a-leek, lots of blood (obviously), romantic fingerpainting, cumplay bc it felt spiritually correct | SYNOPSIS: Your period pains have sidelined you, but Javi finds a way to make things better.
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Not even the gentle sounds of crystal blue waters rocking against stone just beyond your bedroom could distract you from the gnawing pain in your lower belly. The balmy breeze drifting through the open doors and windows does little to bring solace, either. Here you are, smack dab in the middle of paradise with the most generous lover and adoring companion you’d ever had in your life, and you’ve spent  the better half of the day balled up into the  fetal position, completely miserable.
Right on cue, the soft padding of Javi’s feet against the floor draws closer. “Bebita?” His voice is soft, so gentle and attentive it makes your heart want to burst a thousand times over every time you hear it. You groan, a glum little sound from the back of your throat, and hug yourself tighter. “Bebita, are you feeling any better after the medicine?”
“Not really,” you admit. You’d love to tell him that the pill he’d brought you earlier worked its miracle and that all of his efforts have been for something. But, you and Javi don’t lie to each other. It’s one of the many refreshing things that being with Javi has offered. Another freeing aspect of your dynamic was that Javi never seemed to be shaken or deterred by things not going to plan or as you would’ve liked them to.
It wasn’t the obnoxious, compulsive positivity that you see in self-help “gurus” peddling their latest creed in the form of a 16 chapter book for only $23.95 that promises to address all your shortcomings that their last three offerings hadn’t touched upon. Javi had that beautiful sort of determination to make the best of things, no matter the circumstances. It was a sort of infectious sincerity and buoyancy that you couldn’t help but to lean into.
“Agh, I was hoping it would help,” he sighs. “Maybe a change of scenery?”
“Javi, I really don’t want to move. Everything hurts,” you whine.
“What if I stay with you? What about some more blankets? A massage?”
You perk up as he rattles off suggestions, particularly at the offer of a massage. “You really want to massage me right now? I’m all gross and bloated.”
His face breaks into a gentle censure, a soft grin that stalls the breath in your chest. “You keep saying crazy things like you don’t know me,” he chuckles. He crawls onto the mattress and slips a warm hand underneath the sheets and your waistband, the heat and pressure of his palm against your belly offering an immediate palliative effect. A weak whimper escapes your lips the moment he begins kneading firm circles.
“How’s that, bebita?”
“Feels good. Can you push harder?”
He answers by way of applying deeper pressure to his kneading motions, eventually curling his hand into a fist for firmer impact. His hands, always so gentle and attentive, feel much more like the eager and sure ones that grace your body when he’s got you on all fours and crying out his name. The parallel sends a new sensation to your lower belly, something more familiar to the response it yields under those toe curling, mind bending explorations of one another.
Without a word, Javi pulls the covers away from your body and tugs away the lower half of your clothing. When you start to protest, he shushes you and reminds you how much better you’ll feel without all the elastic and waistbands pressing against your tender, swollen belly. When you start with how gross you feel and about him seeing you so disheveled, he all but hauls you out of the bed towards the bathroom.
“Let me take care of you,” he pouts. “A hot shower and more of my massage will make you feel better. Please, bebita.”
You heave a weighted sigh when he frees you from the rest of your clothing and discards it into a pile on the floor. “Fine. It’s time to take out my cup anyway,” you grumble. You wince as you settle onto the toilet, your lower back now joining the EVERYTHING HURTS! party.
You’re focused enough on the discomfort and the task at hand that you nearly miss Javi’s eyes glued to the movements to retrieve your cup. The rise and fall of his chest is easier to clock when he’s standing there in nothing but sweatpants that leave little to the imagination. He’s so frustratingly handsome and broad and tanned – and, you’ve just noticed, cupping a tempering palm against his crotch. 
Just as you start to realize there’s something about all of this he clearly enjoys, the menstrual cup gives to your efforts and pops out of your entrance. You fumble with it for a moment, cursing under your breath as you try to keep it from plunging into the toilet water, and manage to catch it. It didn’t go into the toilet water, but it did tip all over your hand and inner thigh.
“Fuck!” you hiss, scurrying to the sink and dropping the cup into it. You can feel the pulse of blood dripping out of you as you walk, and you pray that most of it has landed on the tile. You barely let go of it before Javi is down on the floor, bracing your thighs – no, spreading them – and saying something urgently about how he’ll get it and let him help you. 
“I made a fucking mess,” you gripe. You gesture to the smears and droplets that mark your frantic trek to the sink, but Javi’s gaze doesn’t follow.
“Yes, you did make quite the mess,” he husks.
Your head snaps back to attention and meets his eyes, flickering up to yours. His cheeks are doused in splotches of heat. His tongue flits nervously over his bottom lip. There’s a supplicant, almost pained frown curving his mouth. Before you can get a firm grasp on whatever the fuck is going on, a sharp cramping sensation suddenly builds and constricts in your abdomen.
You lean over the sink to steady yourself through the cramping, face pulling tight with the discomfort of it. Javi pushes his way through until his head is wedged between the countertop and your mound. The first swipe of his wet tongue against your clit is such a sharp contrast of pleasure to the pain of your cramps that your legs nearly give.
“Let me, let me, let me,” he practically chants as he begins tonguing and licking into you in earnest, two fat fingers sliding in with the ease and slip your blood gives. Not only have you never had a partner show interest in any sort of intimacy when you were on your cycle, but you’ve never quite found any appeal in it yourself — until right about now.
Your cramping has ebbed away once more, and the only thing you can feel in its place are Javi’s thick digits pressing and stroking against your already swollen and sensitive walls. You’re not prepared for the sight of it all when you look down. His face is smeared with claret and crimson. It runs down his hand and snakes along his wrist as he works you faster. He looks almost manic in the way his eyes lock with yours.
“Let it spill out, please.”
You can’t make much sense of what he’s asking for, but the heady urgency of his energy is enough to send you over the edge. Just as your climax has you spasming a third time, he removes his hand and holds it just below the cradle of your thighs, mesmerized by the thin red string of blood that connects from his fingertips to your entrance. Another spasm sends a fresh gush of blood to follow the natural gravity of the wet trail.
Javi audibly whimpers at this and haphazardly shoves his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock and start stroking it with your fresh supply of bloody lubricant. His needy moan flips a switch in your brain, and you’re pushing him against the cabinets and straddling his legs before your brain quite configures what the driving force is behind all of this magnetic, sensuous energy.
He holds his cock steady long enough for you to sink down onto it fully, and you both gasp at the feel of it parting you, splitting you open to take him hard and fast. You roll your hips and chase the sounds of Javi losing himself in it all. His hands grip your  breasts, your thighs, your neck – all leaving a trail of your own blood scattered over your body. You don’t even care about the sticky drying feel of it like you normally would, not with Javi making such deliciously pitiful sounds.
“Come on, Javi, fuck it out of me,” comes your stilted plea. You aren’t sure why you say it, only somewhat conscious of the fact that it’s the right thing to get him even more wrapped up in all of this.
He has your back pressed against the cold tile within seconds, thrusting into you with such fervor that you slide back a few times from the force of it. “So fucking wet, bebita.” He sounds wrecked and even more so looks it.
“Fucking messy just how you like, right, baby?” you goad him, trying to latch onto whatever bits of this new thing is that’s happening that you’ve already picked up on. “Making a mess everywhere.”
He scrunches his eyes shut as if pained at the words, a whiny sigh slinking up his throat at your instigation. A frantic chain of Spanish that you catch and decipher out of order – something bebita, something torrente, something fuente.
“What, Javi? Tell me. I wanna know how I make you feel, baby. Tell me.”
His eyes tear open, jaw slack for a moment, before answering. “My little fountain, yeah? You’re going to spill all over me? I want it, bebita, please.”
The desperation in his plea stirs another orgasm in your gut. He nods, a little hectic and compelling, and rubs the pad of his thumb against your clit. Your entire body seizes up with the force of it, eyes slamming into the back of your skull as you’re taken completely off guard. The wet sound of your blood pushing out with each thrust serves as the backdrop to Javi’s guttural moans while he erupts inside you.
“Feel so good. You feel so good,” he grits out as his thrusts slow to a sloppy circuit.
You grab hold of him as tight as he’ll allow and pull his full weight onto you. It pushes the air right out of your lungs, but you don’t care. You only want to stay with him like this, keep in this little hazy, blissed out bubble. He eventually glides out of you, groaning at the blood weeping from your spent cunt as he extricates himself.
He watches in unabashed infatuation as the mixture of it and his cum leaks onto the floor. The corner of his mouth tugs up just before he strokes a finger flat against your folds, collecting bits of fluid along the way.
“What’re you–”
He grins broader with his fingertip tracing a pattern onto your already stained torso. “There. For you, bebita.” He looks up at you with eager anticipation and flashes that million kilowatt smile that makes your heart thrum wild. You crane your head to see what he’s crudely fingerpainted onto your abdomen.
“It’s a heart,” you breathe out in a laugh. “You drew me a heart with my period blood and your jizz. Wow. So romantic, Javi.”
He lets out a deep belly laugh and snatches you up into a fond embrace. “Only for you, my little fountain. Only for you.”
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paging my Javi G freak-a-leek kink bitches:@burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @electriclasso @umnitsa @noxturnalpascal @jupiter-soups @drunk-and-capable @sheepdogchick3 @pop-sugar102 @angiewatson @sweetercalypso @lumoverheaven @5oh5 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ghostofaboy @dilfspitdrinker @miss-mistinguett @deci3t @janaispunk @ghoulettesinspace
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 3 months
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always a god never human II satoru gojo
tags: post shibuya au, alt au where satoru is cursed to be blind, fluff, argument, angst, regret
word count: 4.5k
note: I wanted to write something that could encapsulate what being human is for satoru in the best worst case scenario. some of you might love this as I do, and thank you for your support. also, I made a reference to odysseus and the cyclops so I think I got it right (I haven't read the odyssey in nearly 10 years). also forgive me and please correct me if I got the kikufuku part wrong. will make a part two if this comes out well (I already have it drafted).
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satoru gojo had been exposed to curses for as long as he could remember. first, as a boy, then as a student in jujutsu tech, and finally as a friend and instructor to those around him; but he had never been directly cursed.
not until now.
"you may remain as the strongest, satoru gojo, but your strength will be the only thing to hold you. no one but yourself will disinter it, so don't waste your time searching for something already set as destined." he recalled.
"love will be your salvation yet damnation, for you will cry for your shortcomings and failures. no one but you will carry this burden. let it remind you of this day, of the battle in which you never, truly won."
he always wakes up in a cold sweat afterwards. with the erratic beating of his heart and the tears running down his cheeks, satoru clings to himself, pressing a hand to his heart so as to remind himself of his current position. the back of his throat feels rough like sandpaper, and he licks his lips before reaching for the glass of water he's reserved for nights like these.
he drinks nearly all of it, his heart heavy before his fingers fish for his phone by his bedside.
"hey siri," he speaks, voice hoarse, "what time is it?"
"it's 3:24am."
with an exhaled huff, he puts his phone to the side, making note to remember where it is in the morning. as he lays his head down and focuses on the feeling of blood rushing to his fingertips, arms laid out side by side and fists clenching and unclenching, he sighs.
tomorrow will be better, he tells himself, but it has to change, whispers the other.
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"now listen, don't give me that look, it's serious!" your frown causes utahime, your longtime friend of 4 years to shake her hands out to grab your attention, causing you to stifle a smile from your face as you hide your lips behind your cup of tea. "I have a job proposal for you, from a friend. and I think you'd like the pay."
utahime had always been sensible on the topic of money. knowing your constant struggles as a college student and now graduate, seeking to find new sources of income to keep up with bills and student loans, the sorceress felt compassion for you, a friend of hers who has grounded and guided her through frustration after frustration; work and romance related. she's never had the luxury of normalcy to a life like yours, she knows, so doing this was in her best interest for your benefit.
she tells you she has a friend who has decided to take up reading. problem is, he's blind.
"he's not a child, though he acts like it sometimes, but he's not some prune old man either. he's around your age so I'm sure talking to him along with your patience won't be an issue."
besides the generous pay for your time, 6 hours a week for $500 as a starting salary, there was something about this arrangement that left you with a good feeling in your heart. and it wasn't because your client was blind, no. it was the sheer opportunity for growth, in doing something you loved and doing something someone wanted to partake in. so on the day of your arrival you dress your best, hair neatly combed with a pearl diadem and academia as your outfit inspiration for the occasion. "he lives in a secluded home," you recall utahime's words, "up on a hill, or cliff. I don't know. it's always cloudy over there," and you can make out the home on the hill. it's quaint, and you feel thankful for having picked the clothes adequate for the weather.
it surely looked like it was going to rain, so you quicken your pace until you're at the front door, standing still as you swallow the lump at the back of your throat. you were no psychic, but the way your heart churned and palpitated let you know something was about to change your life forever.
"you must be the girl utahime sent, I'm satoru. please step inside," you absentmindedly take in the smile he gives you, taking no answer from you before he opens the door to let you in. he wears a pair of black glasses, contrasting to his snowy hair and porcelain skin. wearing casual loungewear neither of you dare to touch one another in the sense of exchanging a handshake out of respect, or fear. it all feels formal, too formal as if this were a job interview or more.
"it's quite cold outside, isn't it?" after you step inside and change into a pair of slippers that are slightly too big for you, satoru shows you to where you would read to him.
he makes conversation rather well, you find, but there is slight awkwardness in the interactions but not in the way he moves around the house. as he moves up the stairs, he has a hand against the wall as he takes each step with precision, knowing when and where to step. you're fairly quiet, but polite in your conversation with him, until you reach the space he calls his 'study' which is just a room with a large window accompanied by books and belongings.
"you're probably wondering how on earth a blind guy has a clean place, right? well to answer your question, housekeeping."
"I wasn't thinking about that," you answer softly biting the inside of your cheek, "I was just admiring the window."
there's a momentary silence between the two of you. either satoru is surprised by your reply, unrelated to his blindness, or you have struck a sensitive chord, however, his nod makes you think otherwise.
"it is. before I was blind, I'd come here as a teen. house is mine, so even the doors are nice in here." and when he hears you agree, he smiles. "anyways, I'm sure utahime told you the basics about this, yeah?"
"yes."
"great. there's a book on that table to your right. you can start reading that one." as he walks, he takes a seat on a chair across from you. he patiently waits until you sit down again to ask, "before we start, would you like some water?"
"yeah," you breathe, "that'd be great actually."
"there's a few water bottles under the table next to you," he informs, making himself comfortable on the chair, limbs spreading comfortably as you take out a water bottle and glance at the book in your lap.
"this book is about malaysia," you read the title, "is that somewhere you'd like to visit one day?"
"maybe," he says, "it was from a friend of mine."
"did he go to malaysia?"
there's a long silence in between the innocence your question and his answer.
"he did," he answers slowly. "it was always a dream of his to go, so that's why I've kept the book." you don't press him further, instead nodding and suggesting on starting.
when you open the book, you don't miss the elegant cursive writing at the top right of the page.
n. kento
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you frequent satoru's home every monday, wednesday, and friday for 3 hours every day. the pay is more than what you expect the first week, $750, but you wonder how this man can easily afford your services.
the bigger question, is how can he live alone in such a home like that? does he ever get hurt? what does he do then?
"yeah, I live here by myself." he answers your question on the third week of your employment. "it's pretty neat though. I don't have to worry about anyone misplacing anything I leave, you know?" his attempt at a joke makes you chuckle and walk up the steps behind him to his study. "are we reading something new today?"
"there's something different I want to try," he tells you, "last night, on the news, I heard there was a feud over some meso-american statue. something to do with jade material being one of the few in existence. I know this is beyond what we agreed, but do you think you can find an article on it?" you nod, affirming his request.
"great!" he smiles, relieved, "my laptop is on the desk. feel free to use it."
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you wanted to say that was the last time he asked you for a favor like that, but it was you who fueled his interest. that day, you ended up finding 4 articles, and playing 2 videos about the subject. and as a result, both you and satoru engaged in related conversation until the end of your assigned time.
every few days, satoru would inform you on something (practically asking) and you'd reply by responding, researching the questions he ached to know. it went such way that you were reading him books less and less and more article, media coverage, and conversation.
"did you hear about the experiment trials being conducted by this company called oceangate?" satoru asks, interest laced in his voice, "they're thinking about sending people to view the titanic shipwreck."
and quickly enough, so were you.
"yeah, I also heard about it. I couldn't help but read an article about it. apparently, they've done a few trials, but the company is independent, so I don't know how safe it is or if they have government members involved..."
one of satoru's favorite moments consist of the following.
"did you hear about the crime case that just happened last week? the one with the girl who survived the car accident."
"I did!" you answer eagerly, "I heard her stepdad was the last person to talk to her boyfriend."
"do you think he murdered him?"
"it's tough to say," you bite your bottom lip in contemplation, "I knew he didn't approve of him because he was an aspiring musician, but these texts came out saying he wrote to his brother, 'that man better stay away from my daughter or else I don't know what I'll do',""
"no way."
"and that's not even the worst part," you adjust yourself on your seat, criss cross applesauce. "they found dna remains in his car before his death, hair. right before the car accident. there's speculation they argued before..."
"the accident." satoru nods.
as the weeks progressed, so did your conversations with satoru. the two of you had a knack for being adaptable in your interactions with one another. you could reach a book for an hour, then talk about some recent story or just spend a whole session talking, with the mention of an article or some source always being mentioned.
and satoru burned for that. with every interaction, he found himself looking forward to what else he could bring up, and so did you, even spending time of your own researching things he might be interested in learning about.
things the both of you turned out interested learning about.
"here," satoru could feel the warmth emanate from your body (or his) as you sat next to him, your body scooting closer to his, "hold your hands, yeah, like that," placing a small statue, no bigger than the size of a wine bottle, satoru freezes slightly as you guide his fingers to glide along the edges of the statue.
"my friend managed to get this one out of the archives," you explain, "of course, I just had to bring this to you too. can you sense the material?" the corner of satoru's lips tug upwards in acknowledgement of your excitement. it makes his heart squeeze and pulse in ways that felt familiarly unfamiliar. in a good way, of course. everything you brought in his life was good. whether he could see it or not, you were always so welcoming and sweet.
"is this... legal?" he out of everyone finds himself whispering. as if the authorities could be outside his door. you giggle.
"yes," you smile, "I asked my friend if she could let me borrow this for the day, to take 'pictures'." you chuckle, "obviously that's not what we're doing, is it?" a warmth follows satoru's cheeks as he shakes his head and you smile. "this mesoamerican statue is the same material as the one we read the other week, remember?"
we, satoru's words echo in his head as he nods. "y-yeah. thank you for doing this, you know."
"of course," you smile kindly, "I figured, out of everyone who could be here, I figured you deserve this."
deserve.
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"open your hands for me, satoru." your soft voice speaks as you cup his hands, the ocean waves crash from afar. after much convincing, you managed to pull satoru out of his comfort zone. what's the point of going to the ocean if I can't see it? he asks.
well, what's the point of me reading to you and us interacting if you can't see me? you counter. and he realizes you've won.
he can smell the saltwater, can feel the wind blow through his hair and let his feet sink into the sand, but that's not what makes his heart skip a beat. your hands shouldn't feel this soft, he thinks. the way you allow grains of sand to fall in his hands feel otherworldly, holy. the way he senses you smile at him and place a shell on his palm, letting him trace the surface with his finger as you guide him makes him feel as the most enlightened man alive.
he can sense you're close, not by strands of your hair slapping his cheek as the wind blows, but by the warmth of your body. suddenly, he does not feel he is at the beach, but with the beach guiding her hands with his and feeling the warmth of what he feels is your smile.
he remains silent, you're looking at him, and he's looking at you underneath his shades. he's frozen. waiting for you to say something, to break this off as if this would never, by any of his wildest dreams, occur in any universe.
but you don't.
satoru feels his pulse quicken, breathing deepen as the point of your feet slot themselves to his, your nose barely brushes his own, causing the six eyed user to forget everything he once thought he knew of limits and boundaries. kiss me, he thinks, take me, he begs to the heavens. satoru thinks he could be captivated, deeper than any spell odysseus and his men were under at sea, but they were cursed by calypso's beauty, and he felt blessed by the touch of an angel. your touch enviable to the gods above.
when you kiss him, he feels like he just made the greatest discovery to mankind, like he's waited his whole life for this, a feeling that greatly surpasses galileo's lifelong accomplishments and napoleon's combined. no feeling, word, or sight could transcribe what it feels to have your lips slide through his, to have you softly gasp against his lips, and to have your body close to his. satoru is convinced that he has reborn, become whole by the touch of your lips which have sweetly imprinted themselves throughout everything he is.
he holds the back of your neck gently, so as to remind himself that you are here, not a dream but here with him. flesh against flesh, man and woman who share one breath.
when you both pull away, satoru feels himself begging to pull you closer, but the hands that push him from you let him know you need to breathe. and although his body cries otherwise, you speak breathlessly, a hint of a smile in your tone, "did you feel that shell? it was my favorite kind to collect growing up," and he smiles because he learns what it is to collect something as valuable as the shells, your lips.
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with nearly 3 months of knowing you, there was a shift in satoru's chest one wednesday morning as you excused yourself for a call.
"...of course I don't! you think I want to live with him?" you ask, voice laced with disgust, "I won't be tied down like that again and you know it, Kiro. I'll be cursed if I have to be with someone like him again. you know I'd never stay for someone like that. It's dead weight on my shoulders, and I won't have anything but pity on him." your words, from the end of the hallway send daggers at satoru's heart.
"yes, I'm at work, what else do you want me to do? It's not like I can just fly my way to you in such a short amount of time. you should have told me..." a long pause, "yes... he's blind," another long pause, "I get paid on the 26th, but my boss won't let me work on the 25th, so you can sleep in my bed while I get home. and wear something under the covers, okay?" somewhere, somehow satoru wanted to tell himself he was not hearing things correctly, that you were still the same girl he knew to be around, but when you returned after your call, something was definitely wrong with you.
"so, how was you call?" he asks, feigning interest, "everything ok?"
"yeah, fine, thanks." you breathe, tired, opening the book in your hands, "chapter 21, the last spring."
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one week later.
as much as he wanted to deny it, satoru was beginning to think you had changed. what was it? was it him? the kiss? the way he grabbed you? or have you finally had enough of these little visits that could have been masked as pity for a young man like him?
when the 26th passes, he does not ask what your plans are. as much as he wants to ask, he thinks it's not of his place to ask. is he doing the right thing? he doesn't know. it certainly doesn't ease the unpleasant feeling bubbling in his stomach.
"do you have a favorite treat?" you ask. caught off guard, he nods.
"kikufuku," he tells you, "when I was in high school, there was this elderly couple that had a kikufuku stand and they used to have the best ice cream fillings."
"I thought kikufuku was cream based?"
"It was, but not to them. their ice cream filling was one of a kind."
"when was the last time you had some?"
he laughs, "years ago. I'm pretty sure they ended up closing because the wife died, and she was the only living relative who knew how to make it."
"that's too bad."
"I know, but at least they were happy doing what they did." satoru then changes the subject, shifting the focus to a lighter topic.
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on december 6th, satoru recieves a call.
"I told you, you don't have to call me sensei anymore," satoru groans, throwing a wooden sword towards yuuta, catching it flawlessly.
"why not? you've always been my sensei. or would you rather us call eachother cousins?"
"you're right," answered satoru adter a long moment, earning a laugh from his former student. "so what was it you wanted to talk about? clearly it was not to train, so what is it?"
"I just wanted to see how you're doing."
"well you could've just called..."
"you haven't trained with us in a while," yuuta sighs, "everyone. we don't really know what you're up to these days."
and he was right, but satoru would never admit it.
"what?" he asks, almost faking offense, "can't your sensei go on vacat-"
"-utahime sensei says you've been in your home a lot," he clarifies, "only few of us know. toge, panda, yuuji and I."
"what about megumi?"
"he's kind of in his own world," yuuta sighs, placing his weapon down before taking a seat next to gojo in the training room. "he knows things haven't been easy."
"you've kept an eye on him and yuuji like I asked, right?''
"to a degree," he admits, "I can't have them open up so freely because I'll always be their upperclassmen, but you... you're..."
"I get what you're trying to say." he answers flatly.
"you do?"
he nods.
"can I walk with you to your home?" yuuta asks, "there's another thing I'd like to ask, personally this time."
satoru finds himself agreeing with his younger student, what else could he do besides that? as the two walk, satoru finds himself giving advice he didn't think he could give, advising the student on what shall become of him now that he's already over age and in his own right to choose his destiny.
as he advises his pupil, satoru finds himself wondering the same for himself. he's turning a year older in 2 more days, what will become of him? what will he do? what does this mean in relation to kenjaku's damned curse? it aggravated him. upset him how everything felt so secure, almost ideal weeks ago, but now his life felt back in square one, returning to his home that he had grown used to be alo-
"surprise!"
not one, nor two, but several familiar voices called from the inside of his open, making satoru freeze in shock.
"surprise! we thought we'd surprise you sensei" panda's voice rang.
"he's right!" another voice, yuuji's appears, "we thought about making a little get together with our favorite sensei..."
"obviously someone had to plan this," satoru turned, stunned when shoko's voice came into play. "you?"
"no," she chuckles, turning to you but you quickly shake your head, reaching for utahime, "it was utahime!" you call, "she wanted to plan something nice for you."
"aww well aren't you sweet?" he grins tauntingly at utahime who can't help but send daggers your way as shoko muffles her laugh.
for the duration of the party, satoru is accompanied by his co-workers, friends, and students. he hears more about what they've done. what travels they have accomplished, and what romances some of them have experienced all while they share laughs. all while satoru searches for yours.
you stand a respectable distance away from him, deciding it would be best to let his friends and students take over since he hasn't seen them in so long. you weren't as special as they were, only having known satoru for the least amount of time, a part of you felt like a stranger. not that anyone made you feel left out, no. everyone was kind to you and even appreciative for your presence. however, you spent a whole majority of the party not talking to satoru, as if you weren't there.
when it came time to cut the cake, everyone who was an adult was nearly drunk. the students, all joyously supervised by ichiji laughed as they shared a group photo. yuuji, satoru's student mentioned something about adding the photo as his lockscreen, causing everyone to burst out laughing from ichiji's protests. everyone looked happy, with a twinkle in their eyes as the end to the party came to an end.
the students and ichiji were the first to leave, then shoko and utahime finding balance in one another, leaving you alone with satoru in his home.
"you didn't drink, huh."
"I don't really drink in social events." you shyly admit, scratching the back of your neck as satoru does not face you, looking towards the door where utahime and shoko left not long ago.
"you thought you were social?" his words take you by surprise.
"I, um.... I talked to your friends." you say, "they were very nice."
"I barely heard you."
"that's because you were probably occupied talking to the others-"
"-you didn't talk to me." he finds himself saying in annoyance.
"I didn't want to take your day away,"
"from who?"
"you."
"there's nothing to take from me."
"yes there is," you tell him. "your attention. you haven't seen your friends in-"
“they all pity me.”
“what? no they don-”
“-you’re not blind. people don’t… they don’t look at you like some pity animal, just waiting for you to fuck up.”
“you are not a pity....”
“oh yeah?” he breathes, ragged. “then why the fuck did you agree to read to a blind man?”
there was some silence, regret pooled at the back of your throat and then a shift in your weight as you stood. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. I like you, “I- I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,”
“I- are we…?”
“I don’t think we should be seeing each other,” he expresses. “not for a while,”
“a while?”
“yeah, a while.’’
“do you… want me to leave?”
“I think it’s for the best.”
“Do you want me to come back monday?”
“I don’t think so,”
when you left, satoru's jaw tightened, hands now fisted by his sides and a body so rigid one might think he were frozen in place. satoru stays like that for several moments, eyes nearing a burning sensation as he focuses on where he would imagine the door is, almost expectantly waiting for your return as if this were a dream.
but it wasn't.
and as the minutes pass, he paces his living room. hands running over his hair.
he had done wrong.
"ichiji," his voice almost broke, dry and borderline desperate. “I…” I think I fucked up, “I want you to pick up y/n. She just left my place, but she doesn’t have a car.”
"I already did," he says, "she said just that."
“Did she tell you anything?” he finds himself expecting.
“not really..."
“how did she look?”
normal? Ichiji wanted to say, didn't you just see her? but the tone in satoru’s voice confirmed that he did something to leave you so quiet after the party. 
“she was quiet,” he tells him, “...maybe she was tired from the party. you know, she organized it herself.”
“she... what?”
“yeah. utahime helped her bring the cake. she needed someone to drive while she carried the cake because she didn't trust anyone to hold it the 20 something minutes it took to get to your house. she told me she was trying to look for someone who knew how to make ice cream kikufuku and ended up finding the niece of the old owners of a shop she said you used to frequent. after long convincing, she was able to get the niece to help. I’m pretty sure she made the cake, with the help of the niece of course. she also made the dinner, and even had shoko bring in the drinks along with candles that your friend forgot to bring, — so I guess she was just tired, right?”
Satoru was speechless. unsure if it was the fact that you did so much for him or the fact that he had never heard, in his entire life, hear ichiji speak for so long with such conviction, it was everything he needed to hear.
right? the words in satoru's mind, head pounding with everything and anything relating you. and on the other side of the line stood a confused yet almost concerned ichiji.
"hello? are you still there?"
"yeah," he answered dryly, "is... is she home safe?"
"of course, I dropped her off." but it sounded like, why wouldn't she be? to which satoru felt like it wasn't a good enough answer. he needed to see, hear that you were okay. and he was afraid that he was regretting his words so easily.
"satoru," now serious, ichiji's words pulled him from his thoughts, "are you still there? what happen-"
"-I fucked up," he choked, "I... I said things I shouldn't have..."
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bi-disaster-yn · 2 years
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Kinktober 2022 | Overstimulation
Pairing: Alicent Hightower x fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is determined to make up for the lack of pleasure Alicent experiences in her marriage.
Contains: top!Reader, bottom!Alicent, overstimulation, fingering, strap on sex 18+, Minors DNI!
A/N: Absolute gay brainrot over Alicent in her nightgown in the scene below. Just 1 chance Emily Carey I’m begging!
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Every time Alicent climaxed, it’s like she’d came for the first time again. Even though with your help she was no longer a stranger to desire, she managed to surprise herself with how good it felt every time. You were only too happy to keep reminding her.
Her pretty features contorted in pleasure as she bounced on your fingers. You sat with your back against the headboard, admiring the beautiful queen riding you and chuckled internally at your own luck. You curved your fingers inside her and circled her sensitive bud skilfully with your thumb.
Your free hand reached up to undo the drawstring on the bodice of her nightgown, revealing her soft and supple tits that bounced in rhythm with her. Still looking up at her, you reached forward and latched your mouth round one of her hardened nipples, smiling against her skin as she threw her head back in intense pleasure.
“I’m going to do it again.” She warned with a breathless moan, positioning her hands on your shoulders. She had already came once on your fingers and now you had decided to overwhelm her.
“Please do.” You grinned devilishly up at her.
Before, Alicent’s body had never been treated as her own but as a mere pawn in a political game much bigger than the both of you. It was your own personal mission to ensure that she felt as much pleasure as possible to make up for the lack thereof she experienced from her husband, King Viserys.
Your thumb danced over her clit, increasing in pace as she began to grind herself against your fingers. She bit on her lip, squeezing on to your shoulders as her body started to tremor.
A scream escaped her throat as your fingers still worked on her with vigour. You kissed along her collarbone, whispering small tokens of encouragement.
One of her hands flew from your shoulder to clasp over her mouth. The servants knew that she wasn’t with the king tonight and she was desperate not to rouse suspicion. Her nights with you were her saving grace and she’d do anything not to jeopardise that. Such a task was made near impossible with your clever fingers in her pussy.
As her orgasm started to subside, she looked down to you and kissed you hungrily, mewling slightly into your mouth as you pulled your fingers out of her. It wasn’t long until your hands found her waist and without breaking the kiss, you had spun her round on to her back and were on top of her.
“It’s still sensitive.” She told you in between kisses as she squirmed beneath you. It was clear from the way you had one of her wrists pinned down and were pulling her nightgown up that you wanted another one out of her.
“That’s what makes it better.” You replied, pulling her nightgown over her head so she was completely naked in front of you.
Her milky skin looked even softer in the pale moonlight. Really, it was a shame that such a beautiful body had not been worshipped before. In truth, the King’s neglect of his wife’s happiness angered you but also served as motivation to make up for his shortcomings and make her drunk on you.
You pulled off your own robe to reveal a leather strap, complete with a wooden cock - the very sight of which made Alicent’s eyes widen as she propped herself up on her elbows to inspect it.
One of your friends who worked at a brothel had told you about such an instrument that they had used before on the men from court. You had regaled the story to Alicent one night while she lay on your chest. Whilst you both giggled, you couldn’t help but notice how she looked at you fervently and then went silent, as if she was considering you with it.
“Where did you get that?” She enquired, looking up at you with doe eyes that inspired a deep fire within you.
“That doesn’t matter, what matters is what I’m going to do to you with it.” You replied, closing the distance between you both with another deep kiss.
You guided the cock towards Alicent’s entrance, slowly pushing it in and eliciting a sharp gasp from her. She put her arms round your neck, looking down at the gap between you to see the cock seated deep inside her.
You began to slowly roll your hips and couldn’t help but smile as she arched back so that her chest met yours. Your lips found her neck as you began to confidently thrust deeper.
“Is that good, my sweet one?” You mumbled against her skin.
“Yes.” She whimpered, tears forming in the corner of her eyes from all the stimulation.
“All for you, my queen.” You nipped at her neck and curved one of her legs around your hip in order to make her feel as much of your cock as possible. She winced at the further intrusion and dug her nails into your shoulders, dragging them down your back.
You hissed at the pain but enjoyed it simultaneously. Your hand once holding her wrist now moved to press on to her sternum, holding her in place on the bed while you wildly rutted into her.
Clearly, you had found her sweet spot as Alicent began to desperately mewl and wail beneath you. She made some attempts to thrash around as though her body couldn’t possibly contain all of the pleasure. The tears rolled down her face now as she cried out.
“It’s too much!” She pleaded with you. “I can’t!”
“I know you can.” You smirked down at the true beauty before you. Brunette locks scattered across the bed surrounding Alicent’s face with her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth hanging open. A woman overcome.
You moved your hand previously on her hip to her mouth and slipped three fingers inside. She suckled sweetly on them, moaning against them which, although muffled, sounded like she was being pushed over the edge.
Her hands flew from your back to the sheets at either side of you, raking at them and gripping on them for some sort of reprieve. The young queen spasmed in pleasure beneath you as you continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She bit down on your fingers, clearly overpowered and strung out by all the stimulation.
“That’s it. See, I told you the sensitivity made it better.” You cooed at the delicate woman beneath you who was panting when you pulled your fingers out of her mouth.
Her chest heaved as you placed a single lingering kiss to her lips before laying opened mouthed kisses down her still convulsing body, with an obvious intent of continuing to please her.
“You can give me one more, can’t you?”
***
Tag List: @freshmoneyalmondathlete @laenordeservedbetter @horny4knives @ajordan2020
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I haven't seen it yet but full hc for the m6 with an MC on the ADHD spectrum
The Arcana HCs: M6 with an MC who has ADHD
~ @themushroomgoesyeet hope you like these! I'm writing half from personal experience, half from what I've read and heard. Please let me know if there's anything that need correcting! ~
Julian
ADHD is a less familiar subject for him, if only because his areas of specialty so far have been contagious diseases and battle wounds
He's also not really one to judge you for difficulty keeping a sleep schedule, self-medicating with caffeine, or spending days on end obsessively learning everything you can about a specific subject
What's abundantly clear to him, though, is that you do not deserve to live with the guilt that comes from your own brain hijacking every commitment and interest that it doesn't prioritize
He knows what it's like to feel guilty for something that wasn't your fault, and he doesn't like seeing you live with it
The way he sees it, he's even more to blame for his shortcomings than you are, because you're actively working against your own brain and he's just ... sad (you'll have to tell him that this is not true)
This is going to become one of those shared challenges you tackle together as a couple
He'll write down all the bad effects of too much caffeine to motivate him to reduce your combined intake
You remind him to go to bed with you at a decent hour and call it "poetry time" instead of "bedtime" to trick both of your brains into not thinking of it as the end of the day
Asra
They love you. They love you so much. They never, ever want to get in the way of your preferences and vision
He enables you maaaybe a little more than he should
Staying up late is a great idea! Spending the entire day on your current fixation with no break to go outside or talk to people? Hey, don't let them ruin your fun ~
Thankfully, he cares about you far too much to leave you to engage in anything genuinely self destructive
Once the amount of caffeine you've consumed goes from "inadvisable" to "concerning," once your sleep schedule goes from "not ideal" to "dysfunctional", they'll step in in the gentlest way
Another cup of coffee? Let him get you some soothing tea. Another all-nighter? Snuggle him first, let him help you meditate a bit and see if you don't get drowsy
Nobody can combat executive dysfunction like this magician
All it takes is them feeling the slowly building dread through your bond, and they're lovingly poofing you off of the couch/floor/counter and into a very ticklish hug
His lifestyle is heavily ADHD coded as it is. He remains completely unfazed by the roller coaster that your brain can be
Nadia
To her, you are the best possible version of her opposite
She has a hard time changing between trains of thought. You reboot yours every time you walk through a door!
She sometimes forgets to slow down and appreciate the small things in favor of the bigger picture. You, on the other hand, are constantly pausing to notice them
And don't get her started on how much she admires your capacity to learn so much specialized knowledge in such a short period of time. It's truly astonishing and she adores it
However, she can tell that leaving it unchecked and untreated will make it difficult for you to function in the Palace's normal setup, much less follow regular routines
Quick to find a specialist in your condition and set up a few sessions with them, coming up with ways to work with your diagnoses and exploring medication options that you like
Insanely good at helping you keep your mind on track and regulate your attention and focus levels, even when it means pulling you away from a task that's about to eat up half your day
Likes to idly study the chaotic way you manage your personal spaces and try to figure out what the method to the madness is
Muriel
What, you think he's not used to living with a chaotic being that'll start three projects in a row before randomly walking out and not reappearing for several hours? Please.
Truthfully, there are some small things that annoy him. He likes predictability, and your base state of functioning is taking the next random tangent. That's not easy to not worry about
However, he knows that living with him takes plenty of patience as well. As long as you two can be patient with each other's quirks, and respectful when you lovingly intervene, that's what matters
He still loves hearing you ramble
He likes watching your eyes light up, listening to the excited lilt of your voice as you infodump all the new specialized knowledge you've gobbled up
That aside, he does love learning. Each of your new fixations is a new field of education for him by proxy
He's also someone who thrives on habit and routine and isn't afraid to put his foot down when your wellbeing is involved
He will scoop you up in his arms and lovingly carry you to bed when the bags under your eyes get too prominent and you start to nod off mid-sentence
Portia
Portia looks at you like you hung the moon. Portia thinks that every magical thing you do is mind-blowingly amazing. Portia assumes that all of your little quirks and non-habits are just you being you
Hey, if finding one specific food and eating it and only it for days on end is something you want to do, cool! Maybe it's secretly satisfying some magician's craving!
You're going to think about one thing and one thing only and learn everything there is to know about that thing? That's some badass scholarly behavior right there.
Well - except for the part where you forget something exists as soon as it's not in your hand anymore, or where time really does seem like a social construct, or where you somehow get physically and mentally stuck in one spot without being able to move
That looks ... miserable
Nobody can manage chaos like she can. She'll help you snap out of it, she'll remind you to eat and sleep and take your meds, she'll regularly ask when last you went outside or took a bath
And when you mess up - when you miss an event, or fall behind schedule, or leave things to pile up until they're too much - she'll be right next to you with an encouraging smile and plenty of grace
Lucio
This works either really well or really poorly, depending on the day, how he's doing, how you're doing, what you're both supposed to be doing, what the weather's like ...
It's unpredictable, but that's the fun of it!
Much of the time, your strong points support each other. There are few feelings Lucio hates more than boredom, but with a brain like yours around, there's always something new to try or think about
Few things cause the kind of bone-deep discouragement and guilt that constantly missing things does, but nobody values the importance of trying again like he does
On the other hand, sometimes you accidentally enable each other
Lucio's still learning the self-regulation involved with choosing to do something unpleasant and important over doing something enjoyable and completely useless
And if your brain decides that said pleasant thing is the only thing it's going to function for, well, not getting sidetracked is almost impossible. Good luck to you both
Thankfully, you both have a lifestyle that allows for unusual schedules and working styles. As long as you have each other to keep trying growing, you'll never get stuck for long
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