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tripleyeeet · 8 months

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IF THOUGHTS COULD TEASE (3)

SUMMARY: At the tiefling party, Astarion uses his Illithid powers to offer you another memory.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,771

WARNINGS: Unresolved sexual tension, heavy petting, Illithid abuse at it's finest. Sort of contains spoilers for Act I?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, welcome to day three of Haunted Hoedown! The prompt I chose was why do you keep following me? but I used it pretty loosely to be honest, so... whoops?

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The inner parts of the grove are bustling. Filled to the brim with celebratory bodies, everyone’s huddled up in their respective groups, talking amongst themselves over endless sloshes of ale that dizzy your brain.

As the bonfire burns, you and the rest of your group glance around with interest. On either side of the party, merchants stand alongside tables of trinkets, grinning and guiding heavy pockets to their nicest wares, while, in the centre, a group of bards play joyous songs, singing along with a group that glides around in circles, dancing in patterned steps that onlookers like you can't help but watch.

“Gods, it’s such a rarity.” Pulling your attention from the dancers, Astarion sips a bottle of wine, turning to face you with a grin. “The whole… heroism thing.”

Narrowing your eyes, you give him a curious look, watching the way his gaze shifts between you and the bards, his lips only extending their excitement. “I guess being helpful has its benefits.”

“Mm, like this free wine.” He nods —takes another long, careful sip, then smacks his lips. “Although, it’s certainly due for improvement. Tastes a bit of vinegar.”

Standing at your other side, Wyll peeks around your frame to look at the both of you; a sudden look of interest filling his features. “True, but who are we to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

After speaking, he offers Astarion a smug expression. One that the silver-haired elf reciprocates with an eye roll before he steps away, discarding any sort of verbal response in favour of moving further into the depths of the party. As he leaves you can’t help but snort, watching as Wyll chuckles and shakes his head, knowing exactly what he’s done.

“Behave, Wyll. You know he isn’t fond of kindness,” you say, taking a sip of your own bottle. Inside, an amber ale tickles your lips, making you sigh in slight relief as the cool liquid slips down your aching throat.

The battle fought earlier had been rough. An ambush within the goblin camp’s prison had proved tougher than you anticipated, earning yourself a nasty lash to the throat that Shadowheart subsequently healed, still earning yourself a fair bit of bruising.

Hours later, it still aches with every breath. Stinging with each sound that reverberates through your vocal cords as you pause to hear Wyll speak.

“He doesn’t seem to mind your’s though.”

While taking another sip, you raise your brow at his comment, watching the way he merely stares back, waiting for you to clue in. To realize that, despite attempting to hide your ever-growing niceties towards Astarion, it’s somehow become noticeable.

“I’m sorry?”

“Fangs,” he reiterates, pointing towards one of the merchant tables —towards Astarion who’s still chugging his wine as he eyes up some wares. “You’ve gotten close.”

“Have we?” You feel the aching of your throat uprise as you speak. Immediately feeling the pain send you into a fit of coughs, prompting Wyll to scoff.

“You’re not very good at hiding it. Not like he is, anyway.”

As frustrating as it is, you know he’s right. Your deceptions are average at best. In the heat of a tense moment you can lie and cheat no problem but when it comes to Astarion and the way you’ve slowly grown more fond of his presence, it’s difficult to cloak.

Humming in response, you take another sip of ale, hoping to wash away the pain before letting out a heavy breath. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“No?”

Offering the same smugness he gave Astarion just moments before, you quickly find yourself pushed to the edge, scrambling to find your footing within a conversation you never anticipated having.

Sure, perhaps over the last few days it had become increasingly obvious that you and Astarion had grown rather close. Opting to choose each other’s company over everyone else’s, you could see the assumption brewing behind curious eyes. During raids, it wasn’t odd to see the two of you working together —you posing as the distraction while he went in for the kill from behind. And while looting, it was common knowledge at this point that the two of you would wander away to look for traps.

But obviously, it was all a symptom of continued happenstance. A build-up of time spent together without even realizing it. You weren’t friends by any means. Yes, you were fond of him in a way but, if anything, it was as if you were coworkers at best, working together when need be but still bickering off the clock.

“I’m only nice to him because he’s nice to me.” It’s a childish answer. One that has Wyll grinning so wide it looks as if he might split in two, making you frown in response.

“I’m just saying,” he says, pausing to raise his hands in innocence, even though he’s anything but. “The two of you seem to be connecting more and more at the hip as of late.”

“What, like you and Gale?” Your tone is uncharacteristically defensive. At least for Wyll. If it were Astarion you were speaking to the elf would hardly bat an eye. More than likely he’d just wave it off —change the subject and forget, but unfortunately, Wyll isn’t like that.

“I didn’t realize you’d noticed,” he says sarcastically, watching the way you huff under your breath, taking one last sip before storming off, too tired to entertain the conversation further.

It’s one thing to be teased by Astarion —with him, it’s practically expected. What with the way his voice carries within a conversation. Regardless of the subject matter, there’s always an inkling of sass in his words. A gentle beratement that often fills you with rage each time you’re at the receiving end of it.

It’s the same feeling you get as you leave Wyll behind. Glaring forward while wandering the party, drinking your way through the outer rim, knowing it’s all futile. Now that Wyll’s seen the side of you that looks at Astarion as anything other than an annoyance, you’re doomed. Fated to hear a constant onslaught of questions and comments about your blooming camaraderie.

As you trade your now empty drink for another, you scan the party until your eyes land on Astarion again, watching him slide up to a particularly tall tiefling who smiles at his presence. The two of them chat for a while, both of them leaning in, appearing more interested the deeper the conversation gets.

It makes you smile seeing him almost happy. Considering that he’s almost always in a sour mood, it’s strange seeing such obvious enjoyment. To see his face light up amidst all the shit you’ve been through over the last few weeks.

The only other time you’d seen him that happy was after he fed. After he tore his teeth from your sensitive flesh; a newfound energy coursing through his veins. The euphoria laced within his features was nothing short of breathtaking, and now that you know him a bit better you’re aware that when he spoke of the moment being a gift, for once he wasn’t lying.

“You know it’s rude to stare, darling.”

You nearly leap at the sound of his voice. Feeling its tone nestle into the crook of your neck, shamefully a soft yelp hurtles from your lips, causing him to laugh just as you turn on your heel. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Immediately he shakes his head and brings his wine to his lips, giving it a lengthy taste before licking his lips. “Just came to see what you want. Seeing as you’ve been relentlessly following me around with that little gaze of yours.”

“Have not,” you scoff, a little too quickly. Your eagerness to lie painting your true intentions in the dirt beneath you.

“So your eyes haven’t been looking upon me and that gorgeous tiefling over there?”

As his brow quirks up you find yourself scrambling. Searching through your thoughts for some sort of excuse. Perhaps you could simply say that you’re tired. That the alcohol you’ve consumed has managed to perforate your brain —that you’ve lost all sense of vision as you awkwardly blink and force out a yawn. If the performance is good enough you’re sure you could pull it off…

“Sorry, I’m just a bit tired.”

Somehow still amused, Astarion watches as you replace your words with a drink of ale, gulping down a hefty portion that has him smirking through the edge of his lips. “You know I’m joking, right?”

“Hm?”

“About being rude,” he explains. “In fact I’m happy to welcome all sorts of gazes. The more the merrier, my dear.”

Your face screws into a confusing stare that has him narrowing his eyes, looking back with the kind of interest that has your tadpole slithering back and forth.

It’s been a few days since you last felt it move this much. The last being when you and Shadowheart were communicating during a particularly rowdy fight with some ogres. Back then, all it felt like were a few simple twitches back and forth. A moment of confirmation between two parties before the feeling was erased and you were fit to return to normal. Said moment didn’t take up space within your thoughts. All it was was there and gone in a flash, so for Astarion’s occupancy to feel so different suddenly interests you.

“Is there a reason you’re trying to get inside my head?”

You raise your brow while he shrugs his shoulders, both of you then standing in silence while the party rages on, wondering what will happen if you let him in. What you’ll see once you inevitably give in to curiosity and open the gates.

“There’s always a reason.”

“Care to tell me what that reason is?”

He ponders for a moment, dramatically glancing around the grove before honing his gaze onto the aforementioned tiefling who offers a wave. For a moment, both of them share a look, one that appears almost like a warning before Astarion refocuses on you.

“Isn’t the whole point of these things to show instead of tell?”

He has a point. An unfortunately, stupid and fair point that has you releasing an annoyed breath and nodding your head.

The power of the Illithid, while still greatly unknown to both of you, at base level is just another form of communication. A way to discreetly speak to one another in the form of offered memories.

“Sure, but having an actual conversation works too, you know.”

Astarion scoffs then, taking another sip that has him licking the points of his teeth before running it along the seams of his lips. Overall, the sight is… nice. The way the organ in his mouth glides across the tips of his canines, threatening to spill his own blood before circling out.

Even you have to admit it works in winning you over to some degree.

“Aren’t you enjoying such powers?” As he speaks, he takes a step closer, his base of frame bumping ever so gently into your shoulder as he leans down toward your ear. “Does it not interest you, seeing the world from someone else’s eyes?”

You crane your neck to look at him fully. To see the teasing expression take over and match the tone of his voice —how it ghosts the shell of your ear. Upon impact, it makes your breath catch inside your sore windpipe, threatening a cough you’re quick to suppress by swallowing another sip of ale.

“Because personally, I think it’s well worth the price of discarded conversation,” he continues. “Why bother wasting my time with words you might not understand when I can just push my thoughts into yours?”

At that point, you’re actually confused. Lost in translation just as he predicted. You’re not sure what he means by claiming your lack of understanding but you don’t admit it. Instead, you merely just take a step back, eyeing him with suspicion as you slowly let the creature behind your eye accept his message.

When you do he smiles against the rim of his wine bottle, staring you down with half-open eyes that project the feeling of hands. Soft palms cascading across bare skin.

A violent shiver runs up your spine almost immediately. The air within your lungs once again catches in your throat as your brows knit together, trying to place where the hands are going. At first, it feels like they’re starting at your hip. For a moment, there’s a rough press —a tightened grip that wraps around the bone, filling the space with a bit of pressure before it slides down your thigh, drawing new patterns. But then you feel it on your other thigh too, tiptoeing across the top before it finds purchase at the outer edge.

“What are y—“

Still unaware of the exact intention of the memory, Astarion interrupts your questioning with a simple gesture. An index finger raised to his lips, signalling a silence you reluctantly obey as you feel the hands hold both sides of your thighs, their thumbs ebbing to and fro.

Swallowing hard, you twitch against their movement, pushing your legs together while Astarion watches, his eyes fully immersed in your reactions. The way your face nervously twists once the arrival of hot air cascades between your thighs. How it wafts across your skin like heavy clouds moving through an electrical storm.

The longer it goes on, the more obvious it becomes that he’s amused. That your ongoing discomfort is nothing more than a form of entertainment. A method of his own personal, sadistic torture that has you threatening to sever the connection.

“Oh, don’t be such a puritan,” he says then, clicking his tongue as he moves a step closer to bridge the gap. “I’m just showing you what I plan on doing later tonight.”

“Tonight?”

Before he answers, there’s a kiss placed to your inner knee. A needy smack of lips and teeth that drag upward as you stand.

In response your mouth falls open without you realizing, a soft gasp coming out that makes Astarion snort.

“Yes. Are you hard of hearing or something? Distracted maybe?”

You grit your teeth, trying to withstand every sensation that overtakes you. The way the hands drift and the mouths feed —both of them working in tandem as they travel to the same spot you can feel aching within you.

“It’s alright if you are. I understand. Such feelings can be overwhelming when it’s been a while.”

Breathing through your nose, you watch as he smugly downs the final sips of his bottle. Throwing his head back, he exposes his neck in a way that makes you tighten your lips together, trying your best to remain calm as the hands that fill your mind continue their ascent, eliciting twitching flesh in their wake.

At that point, you know you should call it quits —close the doors and lock them up never to be opened again. But something is stopping you. Something pulsing at the back of your mind, filling you with interest.

It’s always been blatantly obvious that Astarion’s friendship has been nothing more than a ruse. A farce carried out only to keep you close. When he treats you with kindness there’s a hidden agreement that looms in the shadows. An unofficial contract that states his affections will be met with trust. With a loyalty that he’ll more than likely never return.

From the beginning, his intentions have always been ill and you know this. You see it wherever he is —whenever you speak. You can feel its falseness itching your skull each time he touches your skin or calls you pretty names.

It’s what he’s doing now with the Illithid. In the caverns of your mind, he’s showing you the benefits of his allegiance. The potential perks you’ll receive if you’re able to prove your worth, and to put it simply, it’s tempting. And not just for the sake of sex.

Suddenly, there’s a finger that strokes you gently as you stand before him, questioning his authority in the form of a raised brow that’s returned by him discarding the memory.

Once it’s gone you can feel your breath slowly begin to return. Every thought in your head is clearer, not necessarily crystal, but with fewer distractions you can finally see the hefty rise and fall of his chest.

“I hope you have fun with your tiefling,” you say then, letting yourself grin in such a petty way that you see his jaw shift ever so lightly before you turn on your heel and walk towards your tent. -

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#if thoughts could tease #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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hannieoftheyear · 3 months

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• mingyu x fem reader

• smut, sexting, mingyu is an avid emoji user, switch mingyu but more subby at the end (sawrrrry I can’t help it), use of pet names (good boy and baby).

• 2,9k

note: I wanted to post a quick work to get this blog going while I finish some longer things I’m working on ♡ hope you like it and I’m sorry if there are any mistakes

part 2 is posted! find it here

Your eyes roll when your phone lights up and the text notification pops up.

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t forget to transfer me the money for Seokmin’s bday 🙏 [11:47 pm.]

The idea of Kim Mingyu of all people handling something as important as a birthday surprise for your best friend irks you.

Of course he was his best friend too. But why on earth did he end up making the plans. And who made you follow his lead. It’s like torture. You don’t want to engage with him in any way.

He was so smug when everyone decided he should be in charge of the surprise party. The decision was between you and him, and you guess people don’t really like your style of planning, because it was an unanimous vote. Still, you liked not having to stress so much about it but having to rely on your sworn enemy makes you shrug.

Okay maybe sworn enemy it’s an exaggeration. You two just don’t like each other, and that’s fine. Not everyone is always going to like you and you’re okay with that. The problem is when you can’t avoid said person because you’re in the same fucking friend group.

You two avoid each other if possible. When the whole group hangs out, you try to stay as far away as you can. It’s not like you fight with him but your exchanges are short and dry, often a little harsh, so you try your best to avoid it to not spoil the mood.

After you transfer him the money you take a screenshot to send him. It’s not really needed but you do it just to make sure there’s proof that you transferred the money.

You open his chat and send the last picture on your camera roll without even looking, trying to be done with him the fastest possible.

You: [Picture.] [11:50 pm.]

Locking your phone, you keep working on the assignment your boss asked you to finish by tomorrow. But it gets cut short because not even five minutes later Mingyu texts you again. You don’t open his chat, instead read it through the notification.

Kim Mingyu🤢: didn’t take you as the type to take pics like that 🫣 [11:54 pm.]

You wonder what the hell he’s talking about and why did he choose such annoying emoji.

As you open the chat your eyes grow wide and you realize you forgot to check what exactly you were sending Mingyu.

It seems that your screenshot hadn’t fully loaded on the gallery, and you accidentally sent him the previous last photo on your camera roll, which was a mirror selfie of you wearing a new pair of underwear you bought today.

Panic starts to creep in on you, but before doing anything stupid you breathe in and breathe out, calming yourself to think. Mingyu’s still online, which means he’s probably waiting for your answer.

Instead of admitting it was on accident or show him any weakness, you decide to play with him a little. He likes to annoy you too so why not do the same.

You: you never know… I’m full of surprises.

You: why wouldn’t I take a pic if I look pretty? [11:55 pm]

You don’t expect much but his reply comes as soon as you click send.

Kim Mingyu🤢: surprised I definitely am🤔 can’t decide if I like this side of you or not🫢 [11:55 pm.]

You: like I care about your validation [11:56 pm.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should.

You: ?

Kim Mingyu🤢: take pics like this I mean😳

Now this is getting interesting.

You: so you think I look pretty? [11:57 pm.]

You wouldn’t lie and say him saying things like this doesn’t make you a little giddy. He’s always so dry with you, you definitely prefer this side of him.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should send me another one🫣 it’ll help me make up my mind.

You ponder on what’s happening for a solid minute before replying. Is he flirting? Is he teasing you? Will this just be another thing to annoy you in the future?

You: can you stop with those fuckass emojis. [11:58 pm.]

You: I’m not speaking to you if you keep talking like that.

Kim Mingyu🤢: what if I say please?

Now that. Is unexpected. At first it seemed like he wanted to annoy you too, but now he’s almost… begging? How far is he willing to take it? How willing are you?

You: you’re so annoying.

You: I’m trying to work.

Kim Mingyu🤢: all this time we've known each other and I’ve never even seen you in a bikini. [11:59 pm]

Kim Mingyu🤢: what a waste of time.

You: was it worth the wait?

Kim Mingyu🤢: you have no idea.

You: enlighten me then.

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh I don’t think you’re prepared for that.

The conversation is taking a turn you’re not sure if you should take. Exciting you in ways that it shouldn’t.

A chat between the two of you never exceeded a few texts, you both always so eager to end it as soon as possible, so why does he keep replying? Why do you?

You: what do you want Mingyu? [12:00 am]

Your blatant question seems to take him by surprise because he doesn’t reply right away.

Kim Mingyu🤢: me? You’re the one that sent me a fucking nude at this hour [12:01 am]

He’s right. Are you embarrassing yourself? He’s never gonna let you live after this. But you’re not backing down now.

You: I wasn’t naked you pervert [12:02 am]

You: and it didn’t seem to matter to you before

You: you liked it didn’t you

Kim Mingyu🤢: never said I didn’t

You: so…

Kim Mingyu🤢: what?

You: are you gonna do something about it?

You’re too curious for your own good. The lines between annoying him and flirting with him are getting more and more blurred every second that passes.

Now it’s your turn to be surprised.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you can’t ask me that [12:03 am]

You: why?

Minutes pass and you see him typing then nothing, then typing again. Your room starts to feel hotter, the expectation getting the best of you and you start to feel a familiar feeling at the base of your stomach.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should never send a desperate guy something like that at this hour [12:06 am]

You: are you that desperate?

Kim Mingyu🤢: [Picture.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: does that answer your question?

You stare in awe at your phone for what feels like an hour. His hard dick covered by his white boxers threatening to come out fills your screen. Nothing is left to the imagination.

Kim Mingyu🤢: cat got your tongue? [12:08 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: [Picture.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: it’s getting difficult to not touch myself

A second photo fills your screen now. It’s almost in the same position except now his hand is covering his bulge and his red tip is out.

Wetness starts to pool on your underwear, but he doesn’t need to know, yet at least.

You: I never pictured you as such a needy guy. [12:10 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m not ashamed to be who I am🙈

You: even with you hands on your pants you manage to send a fucking emoji wow. [12:11 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I can send something else

Kim Mingyu🤢: only if you want of course

You straighten yourself, waiting for another photo, but nothing happens. When you move on your seat, you feel just how wet you are. Oh you’re gonna kill him after this.

You: I really hate you you know [12:14 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: aren’t you supposed to be working?😨

You: you’re distracting

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh so you do want this

You: this? [12:15 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: all you have to do is ask

Kim Mingyu🤢: nicely

You: you really gonna make me beg?

Kim Mingyu🤢: want me to show you how horny I am?

Kim Mingyu🤢: you want me to make you feel good.

You: you could never make me feel good. [12:16 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh we’ll see about that.

The act you’re putting up won’t last much longer if he keeps up like this. Your right hand creeps down you abdomen. You barely graze your covered cunt, the little relief makes you sigh.

You’re too lost in the little pleasure and don’t realize he sent more texts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: [voice note] [12:18 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: your turn.

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m dying over here

Kim Mingyu🤢: are you touching yourself? [12:19 am]

You: you’re leaving me no choice. [12:20 am]

You decide to play with him a little and send him a ‘one view only’ photo of your hand inside your panties. The same panties as the first photo you sent.

After you reply you dare to play his voice note. The faint sound of his hand tugging on his erection and his little grunts are nothing compared to the sigh he lets out at the end. You play with your fingers, circling them around your wet entrance.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re so not fair. [12:22 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I bet you’re so wet right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: I wish you were here so I could touch you properly [12:23 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: my fingers playing with your little cunt like the brat you are

This can’t hurt right? It’s not like it will happen again and besides he’s already jerking off to your image. You start circling around your clit, playing with yourself making you squirm.

You: I’m so wet [12:24 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: did i get you all riled up already?

You: don’t flatter yourself

Kim Mingyu🤢: tell me.

Kim Mingyu🤢: show me how wet you are [12:25 am]

You: I could just slide my fingers in

Kim Mingyu🤢: I said show me

You debate if you should actually send him something. You know he’s trustworthy, he’s friends with your best friends after all, but this is something far beyond that.

You: should I? [12:26 am]

You: I could just leave you like this

You: get it done by myself

It could be read a threat but you want to see how he reacts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t be mean☹️

Kim Mingyu🤢: I won’t show this to anyone [12:27 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: if that worries you

Kim Mingyu🤢: I promise

His sudden kindness surprises you a little.

You’re not sure if you always found Mingyu attractive. Sure he’s really handsome that’s undeniable. Maybe when you first met you thought he was really hot but those feelings died down because your relationship wasn’t the best. You had a few fights before you decided it was best for the group to just ignore each other if possible.

This was the first time in years you had a long conversation that didn’t end in a fight, and you like it.

You: I'm not the type to do this you know [12:28 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m not either

You: but I don't want to stop

Kim Mingyu🤢: me neither

Knowing he wants this too just turns you on more. He’s not pushing you to do anything and you guess that if you tell him to stop he will. But you have to make sure before you do something.

You: just promise me this is between us [12:30 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you have my word🤐

You: be serious for one second

Kim Mingyu🤢: you can trust me

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m serious I won’t show or tell anyone

That is enough to calm you for now. You don’t think about how this will affect your relationship. Seokmin’s birthday is just few days away and you’ll have to face Mingyu in front of everyone.

But that doesn’t bother you now as you’re filming what Mingyu so desperately was asking you to.

You angle your phone to show only your lower body on camera. You start the video circling your entrance, gathering as much arousal as possible. After that, you move your fingers closer to the camera to show how wet they are and then slowly insert two fingers in your hole. You end the video after a little moan escapes your lips

You: for being such a good boy [12:35 am]

You: [video]

You don’t stop fingering yourself and close your eyes imagining it’s Mingyu’s hand and not yours. His thick fingers would stretch you more than yours ever could. A few slow strokes are enough to make you squirm. And you remember to open your eyes and see you got more texts from Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy fuck [12:37 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re dripping

Kim Mingyu🤢: I should be there right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: show you what my mouth could do

Kim Mingyu🤢: could eat you out for hours

Kim Mingyu🤢: fuck you’re making me so hard [12:38 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: [picture]

He had took his boxers off and was now fully naked. His hand could barely wrap around his fully hard dick. The tip is pinkish red and leaking precum already.

You: fuck you’re so big [12:39 am]

You: I don’t think it could fit inside me

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’ll make it fit

You: how?

Kim Mingyu🤢: I'd make you cum so much that I'd slide right in

You: are you touching yourself?

Kim Mingyu🤢: god how I wish this was you instead of my hand

You close your eyes again. Imagining Mingyu on top of you as you finger yourself harder, as deep as you possibly can. Wet sounds and moans fill your room as you get closer and closer.

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m so close it’s embarrassing [12:41 am]

You: I am too

Kim Mingyu🤢: show me?🥺

The giggle you let out is almost instantaneous. His emojis are annoyingly cute.

You take a similar video as before but don’t hold back the moans. Your strokes are slow to show on camera how deep you’re getting. The orgasm is so close you can taste it but you stop, edging yourself.

You: because you asked so nicely [12:43 am]

You: [video.]

You: now you

You wait a few minutes, stroking you clit lightly to not lose the orgasm but not quickly enough to stimulate much.

The torture doesn’t last long because a video appears in your chat along with more texts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy shit [12:44 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re so hot

Kim Mingyu🤢: god that should be my hand

Kim Mingyu🤢: [video] [12:45 pm]

As soon as you press play you’re welcomed by Mingyu’s delicious moans. His cock is shiny with pre cum all over it, now angry red. He moans at every pump and you feel yourself getting wetter.

Unexpectedly, he also speaks: “I’m so close" his voice is hoarse and deep like you’ve never heard before, “I wish this was your hand, shit only imagining makes me almost cum" and finally, “please… tell me I can cum… can I cum?”

You never expected the big buff Kim Mingyu to be so needy, it just makes you hornier if that’s even possible.

You: you’re so needy baby [12:47 am]

You: I’m close too

You: been edging myself waiting for you

Kim Mingyu🤢: shit baby don’t say stuff like that [12:48 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: im about to burst

You: want to cum big boy?

Kim Mingyu🤢: pleeasee

You: look who’s begging now

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t play with me right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re just as desperate as me

Kim Mingyu🤢: use three fingers for me and cum baby [12:49 am]

You don’t need to be told twice. You press record and insert three fingers into your cunt. You’re so wet they just slide in and you let out a long moan, increasing your speed at every thrust. It’s not long until you’re shaking and cumming all over your hand and bed.

But you don’t end the video there. You grab you phone and film your face as you suck your fingers clean while staring at the camera lense.

You: [video.] [12:51 am]

You: your turn to cum baby

As you wait for him you go clean yourself up and grab new sheets for the bed.

Kim Mingyu🤢: [video] [12:53]

You press play and the sight of his hand is rapidly stoking his hard dick welcomes you, no more than five strokes after the video starts he lets out a long ground and is cumming all over his abs.

Kim Mingyu🤢: that was [12:54]

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy shit

Kim Mingyu🤢: I never came so fast in my life

You: embarrassingly me neither

The conversations stills for a few minutes, even though it feels like hours. What do you say after sexting with someone you supposedly hate?

You: I guess I’ll see you on saturday [01:03 am]

You're left on seen a few more minutes and you wonder if he already regrets this.

Kim Mingyu🤢: yeah right [01:06 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’ll send everyone what hour to come by to prepare everything

Kim Mingyu🤢: see you then

It’s so awkward that you don’t send anything after.

You don’t regret it but you do fear what’s going to happen.

Note: sorry if the ending it’s a little sudden, I don’t know how to finish this but I do want to write a part two 😉

#mingyu smut #mingyu au #seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #svt smut

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moremaybank · 1 year

Text

ALL DOLLED UP — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary rafe has plans to hangout with the guys, but you come up with a way to convince him to cancel on them.

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. receiving), choking, biting, daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie

author’s note another self-indulgent fic because i’m insatiable

rafe masterlist

rafe stuffs his wallet and car keys into his back pocket as he finishes getting ready to meet topper and kelce at the island club.

“baby, i gotta go. you gonna come out here and give me a goodbye kiss, or what?” he’s been waiting for you to get out of the bathroom for a while, and not going to lie; he’s starting to get a bit worried. little does he know that you’re up to something mischievous.

“seriously, i’m gonna be late.”

you beam at your reflection in the mirror, knowing that his plans will be long forgotten once he lays eyes on you. you open the door separating the bedroom from the bathroom, leaning against the door frame as your gaze lands on rafe’s back. the defined muscles of his back shine through the thin fabric of his shirt, and you clench your thighs together momentarily, trying to quell the ache you feel between your thighs.

“actually…i don’t think you’re going anywhere,” you say, letting a smirk take over your features.

rafe furrows his brows in confusion and turns to face you. when he does, his jaw drops, and he feels himself beginning to salivate at the sight of you. his eyes trail over your frame, catching every inch of the intricate black lace adorning your curves. it only just covers the most intimate parts of you, your breasts bulging out of the thin material and your pussy barely being kept hidden from his view. then his gaze follows the length of your legs to find the strappy black heels to match your lingerie, fastened around your ankles and elongating your legs in a hypnotizing fashion.

“oh, shit,” he gulps as he drinks you in. the blood coursing through his veins runs straight to his cock, and he can’t stop himself from sporting a hard-on in the mere seconds since you’d come into view.

“like what you see, cameron?”

“uh, y—yeah,” he stutters. “fuck, yeah, princess.”

“i’m all dolled up for you, baby,” you speak, slowly and seductively walking over to him as he keeps his eyes locked on you. “you aren’t going to leave me here all alone, are you? can’t the boys wait?”

you reach him, and your hands run up the length of his arms to rest on his shoulders. you give him your best pout as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt, “i need you, baby.”

rafe’s thumb swipes against your plump bottom lip as he cups your cheek, “screw the guys. i’m not going anywhere.”

rafe smashes his lips onto yours, the hand that isn’t on your face finding its place on your hip and leading you backward toward your shared king-size mattress. it hits the back of your knees, and you sink onto it, rafe towering over you as you do so.

“you drive me fucking crazy, y’know that? ’m going to fuck you so hard that everyone on this goddamn island knows my name.”

rafe pushes you back onto the bed, shrugging his shirt off in a rush before climbing back on top of you. he lets his thick fingers dance over your clavicle, down to your breasts, as he toys with the lace that covers them. he yanks the flimsy cup down, wraps his lips around your perked-up nipple, and you arch your back into his touch. your fingers thread through his dirty-blonde locks as his tongue flicks and nibbles at your sensitive bud, and you push his mouth further onto you.

rafe withdraws his lips from you, grabbing hold of your wrists and pinning them above your head, “no touching, princess.”

you whine, and rafe offers you a chuckle as his hands cup your tits. his fingers slip underneath the cups and grab a firm grip on them. “this shit is gorgeous, baby. but it’s only keeping me separated from the parts of you I intend to devour, and we can’t have that, can we?”

he isn’t looking for an answer, which is evident to you after he yanks on the fabric harshly, ripping it right in half and freeing your tits.

“rafe,” you gasp, “i paid good money for this.”

“you know i’m the kook king, baby. i’ll buy you some more. it won’t even put a dent in my bank account.” his lips find the valley of your breasts, sucking soft hues into your skin as he makes his way down to your panties. his teeth latch onto their hem and tug them down your legs.

ss you watch him use his teeth to undress your core, you feel your entrance seep with arousal. the view of rafe going down on you was always a sight, but this act sends a pulsating sensation to your clit as it begs for attention.

rafe discards your thong but leaves your heels on because he loves seeing them on you and lets one of his hands wrap around your ankle. he dots wet kisses down your leg, each inching closer to your cunt and filling you with an intense amount of excitement and eagerness. his palm presses your thigh against the mattress, and then he performs the same acts on your other leg, leaving open-mouthed kisses down the length of your limb.

once he has you spread out on the bed, his eyes catch a glimpse of the pool of arousal seeping out of your entrance.

“look at that,” he coos, “you’re soaked. bet you want me to eat that perfect little pussy until you’re crying, am i right, baby?” he inches his face closer to your cunt, darting his tongue out as it gets a quick taste of your abundant slick. he lets it coat the tip of his tongue, and his eyes roll back as he tastes your sweetness. “god, princess. you taste so fucking good. so damn sweet, you’re decadent.”

“rafe, please. do something. want your mouth on me, been looking forward to this all day.”

he smiles up at you, his hands massaging the flesh of your thighs as he does so. “i love it when you beg me to touch you. you’re so fucking needy, aren’t you? want me so fucking bad that you can’t help yourself? aren’t you at least a little embarrassed at how pathetic i make you?”

rafe lets his lips press soft kisses around the flesh of your cunt, his tongue darting out around your folds as he teases you.

“yes, rafe. so fucking needy for you,” you whine pathetically.

“ah ah, what’s my name, baby? i gave you a free pass until now, but since you want to be greedy, i gotta make sure you know your place. who’s in charge, huh?”

“you, daddy.”

“that’s right. daddy calls the shots here,” he replies, his teeth scraping against your aching clit. your hips buck up at the move, and his hands curl around your thighs to grab your hipbones and keep you pressed to the bed. “what’d i just say? don’t fucking move, or i’ll leave you here untouched and desperate. got it?”

you nod, “yes, daddy.”

“good answer,” he speaks, dragging his tongue through your folds and up to your bundle of nerves. his tongue circles it, pulling a breathy moan from your lips as you thirst for more. he sucks it into his mouth completely, letting the suction apply a savorous amount of pressure onto it. his tongue continues to swirl and slather around it, and your breathing grows heavy.

“holy shit. yes.”

he moans as he continues his work on your clit, sending shivers up your spine. he tugs at it, drawing his lips back and letting it go with a pop. he then brings it back into his mouth, flicking at it from every direction as he sinks two fingers into you. he thrusts them in and out slowly, letting them sweep against your g-spot as he massages your walls.

you feel the waves of pleasure grow more intense, bringing you closer to your peak. your hands cup your tits, kneading and massaging them as you writhe around on the bed. the coil tightens and tightens still, letting you know you’re close to falling apart.

“please, daddy. i’m so fucking close, make me cum,” you beg, squeezing your eyes shut as you let yourself creep on the edge.

rafe decides to grant you your wish since you asked so nicely. he adds another finger inside you, curling up to hit your g-spot once more, and you let out a loud cry as you cum. he remains relentless with his sucking, the pressure growing stronger as he continues to stimulate your clit.

once you finish riding out your high, rafe pulls both his lips and fingers back, sucking his digits into his mouth and cleaning your juices off of them. then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and you almost faint at the sight.

“i’m going to fuck you until my dick goes fucking limp, baby. i don’t care if tears are flowing down that pretty face of yours.”

your eyes trail down his bare torso as he stands in front of you at the foot of the bed, landing on the tent in his jeans. he smirks when he catches you and undoes his belt. he shoves his jeans and briefs down his legs, casting them aside as he finally frees his hard cock. it’s flushed, presumably desperate from the lack of attention paired with the actions he had just performed on you.

“will you pound me into the mattress, daddy? make me scream like i know you can?” you ask, batting your lashes up at him as you feel a surge of energy now that he’s standing there in all his devilishly handsome glory.

“you’re playing with fire, princess. don’t ask for what you can’t handle.”

“but i wouldn’t be doing my job if i didn’t let you take full advantage of me, would i?” you question.

he climbs over you, his broad frame caging you in as one hand cradles your jaw with a smirk plastered on his lips. “you love being my little fuck doll, don’t you? so fucking desperate that you’ll let me do whatever i goddamn want?”

“only the best for you, daddy.”

“is that so?” he asks, the hand he has on your face sliding around your throat. he squeezes it lightly, watching your eyes light up as you lick your lips.

you give him a nod, “mhm.”

rafe grins, his other hand gripping his cock. he taps it against your pussy, watching as you gasp at the contact. he lets the tip probe your entrance before pushing into you slowly. he clamps his eyes shut as he feels every square inch of your walls casing him in. then he moves the hand that previously gripped his dick and places it on your lower stomach, pressing down as he rolls his hips into you. his movements are controlled and steady as if he’s testing himself, seeing how far he can go before he becomes punishing with his thrusts.

“kiss me?” you ask, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he pushes further on your stomach, ensuring that your sweet spot is stimulated. “oh my god.”

“yeah, baby,” he breathes, using his grip on your throat to pull your lips to his. he kisses you slowly and deeply, swallowing your moans into his mouth as his thrusts speed up. he’s already given up on his self-test, but he can’t help it. the sounds you make send him into a feral state every time, and it’s something he’s not ashamed of. especially not when he’s the reason for your reactions.

the sounds of his skin slapping against yours fill your ears, and he pulls away from the kiss as he drives into you with fervour. his cock slots against your g-spot without limit; it’s like he’s reprimanding you for being so intoxicating to him.

“shit, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. you’re perfect, all fucking mine. i’m gonna fuck a baby cameron into you, so everyone knows you belong to me,” he grits, the hand on your throat squeezing tighter.

“do it, daddy. give me a baby and show everybody that you’ve claimed me. please,” you whimper.

he releases your throat, leaning down on his forearms as he cages you in. he feels you clamp down on him, squeezing his cock tightly as he fucks you closer to your highs. his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of your neck, and he bites down, letting his thrusts become raging.

“oh, yes. right fucking there. please, please, please,” you cry, feeling your orgasm creep on you.

“play with your clit, princess. soak daddy’s cock,” rafe instructs.

you do as he says, bringing a hand down to rub vicious circles onto your bundle of nerves and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him as close as possible. the heels of your six-inch pumps scratch and dig into the skin above his ass as you keep him deep inside your cunt. it stings, but the slight tinge of pain only spurs rafe further.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum. cum with me, baby,” rafe grunts, his lips near your ear. his deep moans and slight whimpers as he reaches his high are enough to set you off, and you cum hard as he pounds into you.

rafe’s hips begin to stutter, his thrusts now sloppy as he releases inside you and paints your walls with his seed. his forehead leans against the underside of your jaw as you both come down.

your fingers thread through his hair, the other rubbing his back as you both lay there, still connected and exhausted beyond belief. rafe presses a few pecks to your skin hazily, and right when he leans up to give you a real kiss, his phone starts to buzz on the dresser. his eyes go wide.

“oh, shit. you distracted me so badly that i forgot to cancel on top and kelce.”

you give him a wide smile and a shrug, it being evident that you're proud your plan proved to be successful. “oops.”

rafe tag list (join here!): @rafesmuse @rafesdior @adr1an47 @penny4yourthoughts @rafelover @wotfasked @softsatnin @obxjjpouge @outerbankspov @skydisneylover @elijahssuit @kenzi-woycehoski @alexxavicry @kanib45 @princessbetsy123-blog @dudenhaaa27 @houseofperfecttaste @maybankslover @pankhoeforlife

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Part 2

Behind him, Eddie hears the others beginning to stir. The illusion, the foolish hope that he could just keep driving alone with Steve, that he could have all the time in the world to fix this shatters in a matter of seconds: Nancy’s light tread approaches and, as he reaches an intersection, it’s like he can already hear a clock beginning to tick.

“Why… why are we going this way?”

And, God, Eddie is so damn grateful for Nancy Wheeler: she’s tactful, keeps her voice down, as if she already suspects something. Hell, she must do; if Eddie can recall directions to Steve’s house, she’ll definitely sense where they’re heading.

Another stop light. Straight ahead after this, then…

Eddie glances to the side, just in time to see Nancy’s eyes widen as she looks at Steve.

She whispers his name.

Steve gives the subtlest shake of his head.

Eddie has to look away—it’s an intimate exchange, yes, but it’s not romantic, that’s not why he can’t bear it. It’s the fact that they’re so clearly sharing last-minute signals, silent communication only created by going through hell over and over again, and it makes him feel sick that he now knows what their expressions mean. Their doomsday looks.

When he pulls up to Steve’s driveway, he hears various murmurs of confusion—Dustin is the loudest.

Steve claps his hands and everyone falls abruptly silent.

“Okay!” he says, rising from his seat, and he sounds determined, almost up-beat; Christ, Eddie doesn’t know how he manages it. “Sinclairs, Mayfield, Henderson, you’re all with me. We’ll be in and out, got it?”

He heads out of the RV with purpose. Save for Eddie and Nancy, everyone is looking at each other with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Robin opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, Steve calls from outside, “Hello? Come on, let’s go!” and it sounds so normal, like they’re just running late for school or something.

I might not have known, Eddie thinks, with a creeping horror. If I had slept instead… fuck, why are you such a good actor, Steve?

Erica leads the way out, prompting the others to follow; Eddie hears frantic whispers that he can’t decipher, Max lifting up one side of her headphones so she can hear as Dustin and Lucas crowd close to her, hopping outside and heading to the house.

Robin moves to the RV door, but Nancy stops her.

“Robin, stay here. I need to talk to you,” she says firmly, and it sounds like Code Red. She fixes Eddie with a pointed look and nods towards the house, like it’s not even a question that Eddie should go after Steve.

So, he does. Of course he does.

He finds them all in the kitchen, voices echoing, rebounding off the high ceiling.

“What are we doing?” Lucas says.

The kids have formed a little group by the counter, staring as Steve opens cupboards, his back to them.

“Want some back-up alcohol for Operation Flambé,” Steve says easily, “just in case.”

It could almost work, Eddie thinks. He can hear the clinking of glass as Steve methodically pulls bottles off the shelves—that is what he’s doing, so it’s not exactly a lie. Not yet. But he looks at the growing frowns of shrewd kids that are too used to waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Steve must sense it, too, because he stops collecting bottles, turns round to face them. He gets closer, rests his hands on the counter. The pretense drops.

“...Steve?” Erica says.

“You guys trust me, right?”

Eddie doesn't answer; he knows it's not directed towards him. He watches as the rest nod as one. Steve takes a deep breath.

“This is the deal, non-negotiable, okay? I don’t ask much from you, so, y’know. Figure you owe me one.” He’s smiling again, his tone flippant; he’s trying so hard to make it easy for them. Eddie digs his fingernails into his palms. “Here’s your jobs for tonight: you stay right here. Eat some food, put on a movie, I don't care. Just no moving.” He points at Max. “You keep that Walkman on. I've got... see that cabinet, by the T.V? Got some tapes in there, Hounds of Love is on the... third row, I think? Yeah, see the purple? If your one wears out, you've got a back-up.”

They just stare at him. Relief sweeps through Lucas’s and Max’s shoulders, even as they stand rigid with tension, like they’re at war with themselves. Like they feel ashamed at the instinct to stay safe. Christ, they’re all just too young, far too young for any of this.

And so are you, Eddie thinks fiercely, as he watches Steve sweep past them, going up the stairs two at a time. So are you.

Dustin snaps out of it first. He moves forward, voice sharp and urgent, “Steve? Steve!” He barges past Eddie like he isn't even there, then thunders up the stairs.

Eddie follows.

He hears the tail-end of Max saying, “Lucas, he's... I can't feel him anymore. Why can't I—?” Then, he reaches the top of the stairs, heads to what must be Steve’s bedroom. He hovers in the doorway.

“—not even going to look at me?” Dustin is asking.

Steve doesn't answer. He's rooting around one of his drawers, distractedly pulls out a cassette, puts it into his jeans pocket. Eddie sees the horrible moment where it clicks for Dustin—of course, it barely takes half a second, kid's as smart as a whip. All the colour drains from his face.

“Steve,” he says. “You can't just—this isn't how we do things.”

“I'm older than you,” Steve returns. “I'm pulling rank for once, Henderson.” He's pinching the bridge of his nose harshly, still not looking at Dustin.

Dustin laughs. It’s an awful sound, his voice cracking with vulnerability. “Seriously? Fuck you.”

Eddie can’t stand it, feels like he’s intruding on something deeply private.

Steve sniffs, starts to head for the door.

“If—if you leave, I’m never speaking to you again,” Dustin says.

“Okay,” Steve says gently.

Dustin reels from the word as if struck. His eyes fill with furious tears. “I hate you.”

“Dustin,” Eddie says quietly, even though he knows that Dustin doesn’t mean it; it’s obvious that he doesn't mean it. It’s a tactic Eddie is all too familiar with: to say the most hurtful thing you can think of, just to make the other person lash out—because even if they’re angry with you, at least they’ve stayed.

Make sure Dustin doesn’t see, Steve had said. The reason is clear. Because Dustin’s eyes are full of something wild and desperate, like he would follow Steve anywhere.

I can't let that happen, Eddie realises. Steve’s almost at the doorway, and from here Eddie can see him angrily swipe a tear off his cheek, out of Dustin’s view. It would break him.

Steve turns, finally looks back. “It’s okay, Dustin,” he says, soft and kind. Kind until the end. “It's okay.”

And then he leaves.

“Eddie,” Dustin whispers. “Please.”

“I'm sorry,” Eddie says. It's all he can say. “Dustin, I’m so fucking sorry.”

It's torture, seeing the flash of hurt and betrayal across Dustin’s face. He storms out, catches Eddie's chest with his elbow.

Make sure Dustin doesn’t see.

Dustin might be fast, but Eddie is faster; at the foot of the stairs, he easily darts in front. With long, quick strides, he reaches the RV, sees that Nancy, Robin and Steve are already inside, and he locks the door, runs to the driver’s seat. Dustin is a second too late, pounding on the glass. Eddie has never heard someone scream like that before.

He glances behind as he reverses. Steve sits directly on the floor, his head in his hands; Robin is rubbing his back, murmuring something to him.

Eddie speeds away. His last sight of Dustin is in the wing mirror, trying to run after them, only stopping when it’s clearly hopeless.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers, and then he dry heaves.

“I've got water,” Robin says frantically. “Here, here, slow sips.”

There's a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder. Nancy.

“Where...” Eddie clears his throat. “Where to, Wheeler?”

“Your trailer,” she says, and it sounds like something else again, like thank you and I'm sorry all at once.

He doesn’t talk for the whole drive there. The others keep up the conversation, Eddie straining to hear every noise Steve makes, inwardly pleading that he never falls silent. The plan is hastily amended: the extra alcohol Steve has brought means that they can split their supplies, leaving some for Vecna and some for deterring the bats and vines. He nods when Robin asks if there’s a tape deck in his room, which settles it: he will stay with Steve in the trailer, and… wait.

They don’t mention the word bait, but Eddie can hear it anyway.

Once he’s parked, Robin and Nancy get out first, carrying the drinks and weapons. When he gets out of his seat, he finds that Steve is still halfway to standing, swaying slightly, as if sea-sick.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Eddie says quickly, and he carefully pulls Steve up with one hand. Steve’s palm is damp with cold sweat, his pulse jumping rapidly in his neck, feverish. “Still with me?”

Steve’s eyes dart around before settling on Eddie.

What are you seeing? Eddie thinks, his own heart beating faster at the unknown he isn’t privy to. Let me in. Let me help.

But all Steve says is, “Get ready to duck out the way, man, feel like m’gonna throw up.”

Eddie squeezes his hand. “You’re good, I was kinda thinking my shirt should be a different colour.”

Steve wrinkles his nose, chuckles weakly. “Gross.”

He drops Eddie’s hand and climbs out of the RV. Eddie stays close, ready to catch him if he so much as stumbles.

In the trailer, Robin and Nancy wait by the makeshift rope. Steve’s posture straightens as they look at him, as if to say, See? Don’t worry about me.

“Give him hell, Nance,” he says.

Nancy nods. “See you when we get back,” she says, her tone firm. She catches Eddie’s eye, and the intent is clear: Look after him.

Eddie nods back. Always.

Robin’s lips are trembling; she’s trying to fight it, but it’s there all the same.

“Come on, Rob,” Steve says, through another one of his smiles, but his voice tightens, like he might break down if he’s shown an ounce of sympathy. And when he gives her a little wave, it’s like Eddie can see the routine of it, like Steve is simply bidding Robin goodbye after dropping her off somewhere. “See you soon.”

Robin doesn’t hug him, even though she’s clearly desperate to; must have noticed, just as Eddie did, that it would make this even harder still for Steve. Instead, she gives a joking little salute, like a sailor, and there must be something in that, because Steve lets out a choked laugh, and they all pretend that it doesn’t resemble a sob.

The girls climb the rope quickly, and by the time Eddie has turned back after having watched them leave, Steve has already headed for Eddie’s room, presumably looking for the tape deck.

But when Eddie hurriedly follows him, there’s no music playing, and Steve is sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Don’t you want your music on for a bit?”

Steve shakes his head, then nods in the direction of the gate. “Wanna start the distraction as soon as possible,” he says, “give them the best shot.”

The distraction. Like he isn’t risking everything, like he’s just feigning a move on the goddamn basketball court.

“Okay,” Eddie says placatingly. He sits down opposite Steve, close enough that their knees bump. “Sorry, I should’ve vacuumed.”

Steve laughs, but it breaks off at the end. “Y-yeah, where’s the welcoming…” His voice fails and he sighs shakily. “Sorry, Eddie, I—I’m just. I’m really fucking scared.”

He sounds embarrassed. Eddie reaches for his hand, and Steve clings on in a tight grip, like he’s drowning.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, don’t be sorry. Don’t you dare.”

“That a threat, Munson?”

“You know what? Sure. Thought you could do with some more pressure.”

Steve gives a lovely, tender little smile. “Hey. Thanks. For… everything.”

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you kidding? I haven’t fucking done anything. This is all you, Harrington.”

And Steve is laughing softly, really laughing, and he says, “Don’t bullshit—”

And his eyes roll back, the irises suddenly clouded over, and his hand becomes slack in Eddie’s grip.

Eddie has to force himself not to scream, not to jolt back; he thinks he might be sick, and the only thing stopping that outcome is the fact that Steve needs him. He barely counts to three inside his head, remembering Chrissy, how quick it all was, and he’s standing, tripping over his own feet.

“Right, I’m calling it,” he says, his chest tight, “long enough fucking distraction, they’ll already be at the—”

And he stops.

Because the tape deck doesn’t have anything inside. Because, next to it, is the plastic cassette case that was once in Steve’s pocket.

And it’s empty.

He pictures Steve back at his house, distractedly picking it up, focused on reassuring Dustin; Steve not realising his mistake until he had walked into Eddie’s bedroom and gone to put the tape in. Steve going ahead with it anyway, all while knowing…

“No,” Eddie breathes, “no, no, no.” He dives for the case, but the paper sleeve inside is worn beyond all recognition; he has no idea what the song could have been, even what album it came from. He grabs the closest tape he can find, ramming it in, and suddenly thinks Robin’s assessment of his music was more than accurate. Seriously, what is all this shit?

“Come on!” he shouts, and cranks the volume up as far as it will go.

When he turns back around, Steve is already floating.

Eddie can hardly hear over the roar of the music, but he feels the scream tear at his throat; he’s useless, he’s fucking useless, it’s Chrissy all over again—

One leg snaps. He screams again, screams Steve’s name. Then an arm begins to shake, to twist unnaturally at the elbow, and—

And Steve falls. Eddie lunges to catch him, and his heart both leaps and breaks at Steve’s cry of pain. You’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

“Steve, Steve, hey, hey, hey, try not to move,” he says, “you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Steve jerks, then vomits, the bile black with blood.

“All right, that’s fine,” Eddie babbles. “Just a little blood, you’re doing good, you’re—”

His hand brushes Steve’s side, comes away wet. The wounds on his stomach have reopened, as if something else has clawed at them.

“I can’t,” Steve gasps, “I can’t feel you.”

“I’m right here! Hey, Steve? Steve, look at me, I’m right—stop, stop, don’t move, you’re gonna be—”

“Eddie, I don’t want to go,” Steve says, and he’s sobbing, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to—”

“You’re not dying. You’re not—Steve, Steve, just look at me, stay with me—”

But Steve just shakes in Eddie’s arms, and he throws up again, each breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

Fuck, he can’t breathe.

And then, it’s very quiet.

“Steve? Steve.”

Eddie looks down. Steve’s eyes are fixed, glassy. His chest is still.

The trailer splits. Jagged lines in both directions, one from the gate, one from Eddie’s room, burning red. Eddie runs out without consciously thinking about it, holding onto Steve, cradling his head.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” The words are ripped out of his chest, his voice turned into something unrecognisable, so pained that it’s almost rendered inhuman.

He’s gone, Eddie thinks numbly.

His grip on the world fades, awareness only breaking through in fleeting impressions. Nancy and Robin’s faces. Screaming. Nancy saying, “Eddie, you have to let him go—”

He’s gone.

He comes back to himself in a crowded hospital corridor. Robin is reaching for him, and she’s crying, saying his name, but he moves away before she can touch him. He doesn’t deserve her kindness; Steve should be standing here, should be falling into her embrace—

He’s gone.

And then, he’s in a bathroom, thrusting his hands under scorching water. Red and black stains the sink. Blood. Steve’s blood.

The door bangs open. Dustin is standing before him. There are several cuts on his face, and he’s gasping and clutching his side like he ran all the way here. Maybe he did.

“Eddie,” he says, and it’s in that tone, the one Eddie heard when he was trembling in the boathouse, the one that shocked him to his core. Because it sounded like, Yeah, I’m the younger one, so what? I’m still going to protect you.

In hearing that, Eddie knows that he has already been forgiven. Because Dustin’s love is like what Steve’s had been: fierce and unconditional.

Eddie tries to take a breath—it comes out in a ragged, wet exhale. “I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t—I tried—”

And then words fail him completely. He can’t stop the tears once they’ve started; and there, chest heaving with grief, he falls apart in Dustin Henderson’s arms.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin

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pedgito · 1 year

Note

i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you #my writing

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just-jordie-things · 5 months

Text

[part three] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 7k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence mentioned, shibuya arc mentions summary: just when she thinks she's got her feelings all sorted out, the shibuya incident has to go and fuck it all up. contents: friends to lovers, gojo!reader, your favorite sappy scene where a finds b injured and loses their mind <3 we skimmed over key points in the arc bc i just couldn't do it folks

part three: "god, don't let me lose my mind" ___

As it turns out, the deeper something is buried the scarier it is when it comes back up, and it was a terrifying sight to have every hidden ounce of her affections thrown back at her face- or more accurately, shoved up her throat.

The Shibuya Incident changed everything.

She’d assumed she’d follow Nanami and his small team that consisted of a first year, Fushiguro Megumi, and then of course Ino. However, when she arrived on the scene, Ijichi had instructed that she was to find Zen’in Naobito and the students under his supervision, Kugisaki Nobara and Maki.

“I don’t understand,” She shook her head at the manager beckoned for him to show her the electronic paperwork with the order. “Nanami’s mentoring me for Grade One, why would I be sent away?”

Ijici anxiously glanced between her and the team of three who also seemed confused by the sudden change in development.

“I- I’m so sorry, Gojo-san,” He stammered. He never did like making people upset with the orders handed to him, most days he was merely a messenger, however when it came to the Gojos specifically, this was his worst nightmare. “Here, it’s all here, I- I don’t know why they’d separate you, perhaps more foot traffic? Uh, the station is quite overpopulated and there’s, um, only a few people scouting the perimeter”

As he holds out his device she swipes it up gingerly, eyes scanning through the order from the higher ups with great speed. Ijichi gulped down the lump in his throat, praying she wouldn’t break the phone with her iron group.

“It’s alright, (y/n),” Nanami came to the manager’s rescue. “We’ll be fine, the three of us. You should go with them”

She passed the phone back to Ijichi with a small nod of gratitude for his help, and he was quick to disappear, likely off to report back to Nitta.

“They’ve still got me,” Ino grinned from ear to ear, before throwing his arm up against Megumi’s shoulder. The boy gave him a bored look before shrugging him off.

(y/n) gives him a look that tells him her concern didn’t lie in their ability to handle the situation in the slightest. The greatest concern right now was that everyone’s cell phones were out of service due to the veil over the area, which effectively cut off all communication between the divided teams. The idea of splitting off from the two of them- and Megumi- unsettled her.

Since she’d arrived on the scene shortly after her brother, there had been a twist of unease in her gut. Like something was terribly wrong. Or something terrible was bound to happen.

“Unless you’re saying you can’t handle it!” Ino tries to lighten the tension currently laying itself on thick the longer she stands before them, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

If Nanami told her to go with them, she would.

Ino steps forward as Nanami turns to go over their orders with Megumi again, giving his pupils some semblance of privacy in the hopes of convincing (y/n) to follow the order handed to her. If she went against what was asked of her, he wouldn’t be able to cover for her if any casualties- property damage or lives- occurred.

If either one of them asked her to stay with them, she would.

She doesn’t react to Ino’s statement, which sends up warning flags in his head, knowing that usually she’d quip back something snarky about how she could handle this entire assignment by herself and blindfolded.

“This isn’t normal,” She tells him quietly once he’s close enough and she thinks Megumi won’t be able to eavesdrop. She doesn’t want to alarm him, but this gut feeling of hers was starting to eat her up. “They’ve never split us like this before. Something isn’t right”

Ino believes her, already having his suspicions that something was off when he’d arrived with Nanami, but even if he didn’t trust her judgment, he could see the apprehension clearly in her eyes, and that was reason enough for him to understand.

“I know,” He agrees quietly, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure Megumi and Nanami were still occupied. “But it’ll be fine, right?” He tells her hopefully, but the expression on her face doesn’t budge. She stares at him expectantly, silently begging him to say what she needed him to in order for her to stay. “We can handle it. It’ll probably only be a few hours anyways” Instead, he continues to try and talk her down from her worried ledge, unknowingly only pushing her further onto it.

Her jaw clenches as she bites down on her own teeth in order to keep herself from blowing up and saying something reckless.

She lets out a sigh to calm herself down before speaking.

“A lot can happen in a few hours”

Her eyes shift between his in a rapid movement, trying to convey everything in silence that she couldn’t say out loud. She’s not sure if it works, but for a brief moment, a flash of disturbance flickers over Ino’s face, like maybe in that second he was able to understand what she wasn’t saying. Just as quickly as she’d caught it, it was disappearing, and he was smiling again.

“Like two Grade One promotions, yeah?” He asks, holding his hand out to her.

That cracks the smallest of smiles out of her, easing her nerves for just a minute as she realized tonight could be the last thing she needed before finally getting her promotion. So she takes his hand and shakes it roughly with her enthusiasm. Ino chuckles to himself, about to pull away with his parting words of wishing her luck, but her fingers tighten around the curve of his hand and she doesn’t let him part from her just yet.

He’s confused when she stares up at him with a grave realness in her eyes, mixing with some other emotion he’s not sure he’s ever seen in them before. His features soften with his surprise, but before he could ask her what’s keeping her, she’s whispering a threat under her breath.

“Don’t do anything stupid”

It’s cold and harsh, just like how she used to treat him before shared assignments. But Ino knows better now. He understands the look of pure fear in her eyes as she mutters out the words like poison. And despite the way she’s almost frowning at him, he smiles brightly as he squeezes her hand back with the same fervor.

“I know,” He says, almost cheekily. She wants to be annoyed. Maybe even shake him by the collar and tell him she’ll kill him if anything happens to him. But she can only stand and stare at him with a slight gape of her mouth. “I promised,” He shrugs one of his shoulders like his words alone were enough to shield him from harm. “Can’t go back on my word”

And then their grip on each other is loosening, before their hands fall away altogether, and (y/n) has to swallow the lump in her throat before addressing Nanami and Megumi.

“Report back when you can, okay?” She asks, her weapon of choice already materializing in her hand.

“We’ll see you soon,” Nanami nods his head in acknowledgement. “Don’t let that old man boss you around. You can run circles around him” He adds with a hint of a smile on his face.

She nods back at him, already starting to grin from the adrenaline of rushing off into an unknown battle. Her eyes catch Ino’s once more, and he throws up a peace sign with his fingers, tapping his forehead with them to give her half a salute.

“See you soon, partner” ___

The gut feeling had subsided while she worked side by side with Maki and Nobara, paying as little attention to the head of the Zen’in Clan as she could. For a little while, she almost considered taking a path of teaching as she aided the girls in their attacks, although they barely needed assistance, they were more than capable of defending themselves.

But it wasn’t long before they were split up, and (y/n) took the first opportunity she could to get back to her group. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, and she tried not to worry about it as she followed Nobara and Nitta to where they presumed Nanami was. Still, her heart was pounding against her ribcage with every step she took into the station.

It wasn’t professional of her, but when she found Nanami and Itadori Yuuji, her heart leapt to her throat and was speaking for her without hesitation.

“Where’s Ino?”

Itadori was excitedly asking his mentor if the woman standing before them now was his sensei’s sister, even going so far as to tug on the man’s sleeve and beg him to introduce him properly. On another day (y/n) might have been a little flattered, but right now she nearly tunes it out completely as she awaits Nanami’s answer.

“Ran into some curse users that came crawling out of the woodwork… listen, (y/n)-”

“Where is that?” She cuts him off before he could explain further, and it’s obvious the way her entire body tenses with her impatience.

Nanami frowns, not knowing how to approach the situation calmly, but there was no time to sit down and slowly walk her through it.

“Satoru has been sealed,”

She blinks, the words barely processing at all. Maybe because it wasn’t what she was expecting, or maybe because they didn’t make a lick of sense. Either way, she stands frozen and rigid before them all, not speaking a word.

“The patchwork curse is operating with something far worse that we weren’t expecting. They had access to the prison realm. Your brother is currently inside of it. We have reason to believe that Kenjaku is playing a role and-”

“It’s Suguru, isn’t it?”

His name burns in her throat as if it was cursed so heavily just speaking it sent a poison down through her bloodstream.

Nanami’s lack of an answer tells her more than she needs to know. The information tries to take over her mind, tries to nestle itself in as a proper distraction from what her next steps were going to be.

She casts it aside completely.

“My brother is stronger than the prison realm,”

Her voice is strong, and certain. Even with the small group looking at her apprehensively, (y/n’s) positive that there’s no prison on this earth stronger than Gojo Satoru. Her faith in him as a sorcerer, and as her brother, went unmatched. He would only be offended if she worried about him right now. Using Geto Suguru was a filthy trick, however, and he- his body- would have to be dealt with accordingly.

But right now, there was a more pressing stressor she needed answers for.

“Now tell me where Ino is” ___

When she arrived on the rooftop Nanami had directed her towards, her first thought was that she had the wrong one. Her chest is heaving by the time she’s bursting through the access door, the plank of wood nearly flying off it’s hinges from her force.

She hesitates for a moment, seeing there wasn’t a fight of any sorts taking place. Nanami had said there were two curse users, and at first survey, the roof is completely empty.

Save for the slumped over figure left crumpled on the ground, barely propping themselves up with one arm against a box vent. She almost doesn’t catch him there, her instinct telling her it couldn’t possibly have been Ino himself. No, it had to have been someone else-

But then her eyes catch the small but distinct shape of a black mask on the ground not far from him, and she’s darting forward with a screech of pure terror.

“Ino!?”

His name rips from her throat so harshly a neighboring crow squawks and flies away from the startling noise.

It doesn’t take many steps to bring her towards his beaten form, but she’s sprinting the short distance anyways, dropping to her knees without any grace, scraping them up on the concrete upon impact, but the sting goes unnoticed.

She’s panting harder, the wind getting knocked out of her a second time when she properly takes in his face. It’s so covered in blood she can’t even make out where it’s coming from. As her hands slide under his jaw to lift his head, praying to any deity that will listen that it isn’t his head that’s injured, she realizes then that her eyes are filling with tears and blurring her vision.

“I- Ino,” And her voice is strained too, coming out in a choked whimper, not nearly loud enough for him to hear her if he’s unconscious. “God, no no no- fuck- fuck!”

Her mumbles turn into shouts as she drops one hand from his face to pat against his chest. She doesn’t want to be rough with him, but if he doesn’t give her some sign of life soon she was going to smack the back of her hand against his face to spur something out of him.

If she lost him now, like this, then every curse and curse user in this damn city was going to pay the gruesome, ultimate price.

He stirs with the slightest of movements, a small groan coming from his chest which she feels against her hand more than she actually hears. A gasp of surprise comes out of her, before she’s pressing closer to him, her palm flat against his front, and her other hand secure in holding his head up towards her.

“You can hear me?” She mumbles with more hope than what feels right.

“Uh-huh”

It’s pitifully quiet, but it’s a distinct answer, and it evokes a sob out of her so emotionally relieving she drops her head, barely hitting his shoulder as tears of every stage of grief pour out of her. Fear. Relief. It all hits her at once.

Ino can barely register the fact that she’s sitting before him now, pressed as close as she could get with her sobs soaking into his shoulder. But he musters all the strength he can to assure her he was still alive.

“(y/n),” Another pained mutter has her lifting her head, roughly wiping at her face with the back of her hand before leaning in close to hear him. “The curse users- th-ey h-had-”

When he starts to cough up blood between his words, she hushes him, both hands gently held under his jaw again. He hisses slightly from the touch, but doesn’t pull away from it.

She’s mumbling something, but his head is pounding too hard to make out what, and his vision is too blurry to try and read her lips. With the smallest tip of his head, he’s leaning back into the box vent with a shaky exhale.

Even with his eyes closed, the faint blue glow penetrates his eyelids, and he’s trying to gather all the strength he can to lift his head and look at her again. Although he has a sneaking suspicion of what she’s doing.

The blue light brightens, and he can just barely hear her faint mumbling, whispers sounding suspiciously like begs and pleas, before something warm and solid touches his forehead.

It takes him a minute, but eventually, he’s able to crack one eye open just enough to see what’s happening.

Her hands, still held against his jaw with trembling fingers, are glowing with cursed energy. The warmth against his forehead was that of her own, pressed close and having her so much closer that the tip of her nose ghosts over his. Her eyes are squeezed shut tightly, but there’s simply too many tears to be held back, and they fall down her face in steady streams, slipping into the corners of her mouth as she continues to slur through mumbles.

“Just this once… work just this once… never ask for anything again… never need anything more… concentrate… concentrate….” Ino can just barely make out the nonsensical string of pleas tumbling out of her lips, but it’s more than he understood before. “...has to work… have to help him… think… think… relax…”

Hearing the pain in her voice makes something in his chest lurch more than when an overpowered foot nearly cracked open his ribcage just moments ago- or was it hours? He longed to bring her some semblance of comfort, but he was too tired to move his arms, and when he tried to say something, his throat was too dry to make any sound.

The most he’s capable of, is the slight tilt in his head, pressing the crown of his head back against hers with the smallest amount of force.

It does the trick, (y/n’s) mumbling halting with a quiet gasp, her eyes fluttering open and staring wide at him, tracking any miniscule movement of his features.

He’s struggling even to keep one eye cracked open, the bruising surrounding it stinging that much more just from opening it, but he wants so badly to give her some comfort of his well-being. Even if the next breath he takes is his last.

“Ino,” She whispers, her voice heavy with emotion. “You’re gonna be alright, I’m- I’m gonna-”

Before she can finish, there’s a short shift in his neck, barely shaking his head against hers. She swallows thickly, trying to keep down the lump in her throat.

“I am, I’m gonna make it better, I’m- I’m-”

“s’Okay,” He rasps out. “Go, (y/n)”

“No!” She’s louder than she means to be, and she apologizes by pushing a loose strand of his hair out of the sticky blood on his forehead, soothingly pushing her fingers through the length of his hair to keep it from irritating his face again. She repeats the motion a few more times anxiously, and her head begins to shake against his. “No- no. I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere”

He could almost laugh, recalling being in opposite positions almost a year ago. If he had the strength, he’d remind her that she’d begged the same thing of him once, ordering him to leave as if she had any sort of authority over him.

Now Ino feared she had too much authority. He couldn’t bear to have her here if the beat of his heart kept steadily declining.

A faint sound that almost resembled a chuckle is pushed past his lips in a short breath, warm and soft as the air hits her chin.

(y/n’s) brows furrow with her confusion as she continues to push her fingers through the length of his hair. From the top of his head to the ends at the nape of his neck, she repeats it over and over, almost obsessively. She distantly recalls Satoru doing the same for her when she was younger and would have panic attacks, and it was the first thing that would calm her down. Pathetically, she hopes it’s healing power also works for physical wounds.

“s’Okay, (y/n),” Ino repeats himself, his head suddenly feeling too heavy to hold up on his own. He barely feels his nose pressing against hers before a gentle pair of hands pull him forward, guiding him to lean against something solid, and soft. His eyes were shut again as he gave into the white hot pain from every second he tried to keep them open.

Her shoulder, she’s cradling his head against his shoulder, it registers in the back of his mind as he recognizes the scent of her perfume in the fabric he was laying against, and ruining with his blood.

“m’Sorry ‘bout breaking th’ promise” He slurs into the material.

“Don’t say that,” (y/n) scolds, but her voice is weak, and she sounds far more afraid than she does angry. “Please- please don’t say that,” She repeats in an even quieter, shakier voice.

With one hand against the nape of his neck, holding him solidly against her as his body hunches forward uncomfortably, her other hand begins to move in his hair again.

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” Her words were whispered in his ear, so she was certain he couldn’t miss a single thing. “We promised, didn’t we?” She asked again. “And I- I made good on my promise, didn’t I? Didn’t I do everything you asked?” Her tears are soaking into his hair now, but she doesn’t feel an ounce of shame as she begs him to find the strength to snap out of it and wake up properly. “I let- I let myself let you in, I really, really did,”

Her eyes fall shut in a pitiful attempt at willing her tears to stop. She doesn’t want to burden him with her fear of losing him, but the emotions crashing over her were too strong for her to take on alone. Unbeknownst to her, her hands were surrounded by her cursed energy again as they kept him close.

“And now- now you’re too close to me, Ino. And I can’t- I- I can’t-” She chokes on the words, burying her face into the crook of his neck, earning a small grunt of pained acknowledgement when her nose brushes a particularly nasty bruise. “I can’t lose you, you said I wouldn’t lose you”

The hand at his nape grabs the material of the back of his uniform, fisting it so tight her knuckles trembled and ached.

The relief suddenly washing over Ino’s body was so strong that all of his muscles were relaxing at once, and he felt boneless in her hold.

(y/n) was quick to snap her eyes open and pull herself away from him, shaky, fast hands racing to check his pulse as her worst nightmare played before her eyes.

But he wasn’t lifeless in her arms, and if anything, he was relaxed. His pulse was a steady beat against the pads of her fingers, and he even found enough strength to raise his hand to her cheek. She watched with wide, shocked eyes as he barely grazed his fingers across her jaw before he was passing out in her arms.

___

When he comes to, his eyes blink a few times to prepare himself for light, but to his surprise, he’s met with darkness. It still takes a few rough squeezes of his eyelids before Ino’s able to properly open his eyes all the way, and the darkness he was greeted with was properly laid before him as the night sky.

He was outside?

“What the-?” The mutter comes from under his breath, but before he could make sense of his surroundings, someone was scrambling to his side, his name falling from their recognizable, pretty voice like a mantra.

And (y/n’s) voice in that moment was heavenly to his ears. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, and his mind was foggy when he tried to recall when he’d seen her last, but he had a sinking feeling like it had been a long time, and all he knew now was that he felt pure relief when her face came into view beside him. Then shortly after, a small hand slipped into his own, squeezing firmly, but not too tight.

“(y/n),” His throat burns hot when he speaks, but he tries to ignore it as he gives her a weak smile. Everything aches, but he’d try his best to keep his pain hidden. “How long was I out?”

“About a day” She murmurs back, softer than he thinks he’s ever heard her speak. He thinks she’s hiding something, but he doesn’t press for it right away. He’d need to get his bearings first.

He tries to look around, hoping for something of significance to give him an idea of where he was, but all that surrounds them is a few plots of grass and some shoddy tents pitched up. There’s a fire burning a few feet behind where she kneels beside him, and his brows furrowed slightly. What the hell was going on?

“And where are we?”

Her free hand reaches for his face, and he holds his breath when the tips of her fingers gently push a piece of hair away from a line of stitches just above his previous scar. There’s a small frown on her face.

“Just outside Yamanashi,” She answers, then quickly adds, “At least I think. It’s hard to tell without a proper map”

Ino’s eyes widen so much they almost bulge out of his head, and (y/n’s) quick to react to his shock.

“Don’t freak out,” She murmurs, squeezing his hand gently as she leaned over closer to him. “You still need to rest, you have a lot of healing to-”

“(y/n),” He interrupts her, and surprisingly she lets him. She sits before him patiently waiting for the question she’d been dreading for an entire day. “What happened in Shibuya?”

She sits beside him for a long time as she explains the entire incident in grave detail. Not a single stone left unturned, Ino sits in silence for almost a full hour as she feeds it to him like it was her drafted report on the assignment.

She explains that after she fled Shibuya with his unconscious body, they quickly ran into Megumi Yuuji, and the new ally they’d made out of one of the Cursed Wombs’. Yuuji was quick to carry Ino on his back as they tried to cover as much ground as possible. With Shibuya becoming a modern-day wasteland, and Kenjaku’s next move unsure, their only goal was to move.

And that’s what brought them here, to the middle of nowhere where they could figure out what their next move was. With only a few survival supplies and limited rations of food and water, it hadn’t been an easy day and a half.

When she’s finished, she remains silent for as long as he needs. Processing it all- Nanami, Satoru, the first year Nobara, all of Shibuya- would surely take him some time. (y/n) gets up and pokes at the fire for a few minutes while Ino sits in shock as he repeats it all in his head. When she comes back over to him, he’s pushed himself to sit up on top of the nylon blanket against the grass.

“You should really lie down and-”

“I’m alright” He mumbles over her concern, and she simply sits beside him on the wrinkly plastic disguised as a blanket. She doesn’t push him about it again.

Not knowing what to say, she doesn’t say anything. Just sits beside him to keep him company while he processes it all. Truthfully, she’d had little time to really let it all settle in. With the running and worrying over the length of his unconscious state, there was little time left to think about the aftermath of the whole incident. She wondered how the others were taking it, if they’d stopped and let themselves think for longer than a minute. They’d all resigned to their makeshift tents for the night, and she didn’t have it in her to play caretaker and check on them at the moment. That was always the role Satoru took on. But tomorrow she’d sit down with them and check in.

“You found me,”

Ino speaks after a long silence, and (y/n) glances over at him for a brief moment, before returning to stare at the ground.

“After those curse users, after Toji,” He continues, piecing together the vague images in his memory to better understand what happened. “You found me after that”

He’s not asking, he’s talking through what he remembers, but (y/n) nods in confirmation.

“Nanami told me where you were,” She says softly. “I came as fast as I could, but… it wasn’t fast enough” The last part comes out under her breath, full of regret and guilt.

“Seems like you were just in time to me,” Ino says, turning to look at her. She refuses to meet his gaze, too ashamed by her delayed arrival. “For a minute there I didn’t think I’d see you again. Thought I was a goner. You’d be adding my name to the…” He trails off, not quite wanting to address the long list of lives lost in Shibuya.

And he notices she tenses up, one of her hands fisting a handful of grass, ripping a few strands straight from the dirt with her tight grip. Ino frowns, and shuffles over to sit closer to her. Until they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. He groans as he pulls his legs up, resting his arms over his knees to get more comfortable. Everything feels stiff, but he tries to push past it.

“You figured out the Reverse Cursed Technique, hm?” He asks, trying to change the subject. He gives her a small smile at the accomplishment, but she’s still not looking at him. “That’s pretty huge. You’re surely a functioning Grade One sorcerer now”

That’s when she finally turns her head to meet his gaze, finding nothing but fondness in his eyes as he smiles at her. He’s proud of her, she realizes, and she can’t believe that now of all times he’s trying to comfort her. Takuma Ino was too good for this world. And he was certainly too good for her.

“I don’t care” She mumbles, shaking her head back and forth as her eyes flicker over the healing cuts and bruises on his face. The few stitches he needed looked a bit gnarly as they’d been done in a rush from shaky hands. A frown tugs on her lips the longer she takes in his injuries.

“You should,” He tells her. “You worked for a long time for it. And you’ve earned it,”

She’s quiet for a moment as she takes in the statement. The injuries she’d sustained had healed by now, but her chest still hurt somehow.

Slowly, more and more of his memory comes back to him. He can remember the way she’d sobbed, pained wails that came from so deep within her he could hear it now in his memory. They could’ve easily been mistaken as the screams of a woman tortured, the way she’d cried out his name. He thinks he can recall her crying the entire time she tended to him.

“I’m sorry I scared you” He tells her suddenly, and her eyes widen in the slightest at the apology.

“Scared me,” She repeats in a small mumble, lips barely moving. “That doesn’t even begin to explain what you put me through,”

He frowns with his guilt, and he wants to remind her that he’d told her to leave. Although if she had, he might not have woken up again.

“You…” She trails off as she thinks twice about what she’s going to say. “You have no idea what you put me through,” She admits in a smaller voice.

Her eyes flicker between his as she watches him process the confession, before she continues.

“I don’t know what I… I don’t know how I did it, honestly. I’m not sure I could do it again,” She explains. “I just remember feeling so… hurt doesn’t even begin to explain it. I was terrified, Ino. I thought you were…” She shakes her head, a lump forming in her throat at the mere suggestion of what could have happened to him. “I was so scared” She mumbles weakly, her brows drawing together.

Hesitantly, Ino lowered his hand until it rested over hers. She loosened her grip on the grass, relaxing just the slightest amount from his touch. Her heart was still racing as she recalled the way he’d barely been able to move, or how he’d tried to apologize for breaking his promise to her. It was like there was an invisible, but iron grip on her throat, squeezing all of the air out of her lungs as she looked at him now.

“You’re my hero now, you know,” He murmurs, tilting his head a bit as a tiny smile stretches over his lips. “You saved my life”

Her hand twitches under his, and it shakes as she releases the grass in order to turn it over, slotting her fingers between his. She squeezes, hard, making sure that he would be enough to anchor her to reality.

“You saved mine, too” She whispers back, the burn in her throat evident in the strain in her voice. Against her will, her eyes gloss over with tears.

He gives her a sad smile, and squeezes her hand back.

“Don’t cry,” He pleads quietly, his body angling towards her as he reaches his free hand out to her face, palm hovering just over her cheek as he wipes away her single tear with the rough pad of his thumb. “Please,” He added softly as her eyes bore into his like she was trying to penetrate his skull and read his thoughts. “Don’t think I can handle hearin’ you cry anymore” He admits.

(y/n) let’s out a watery and humorless little chuckle, another tear falling to her cheek that he’s just as quick to dry away. She leans into the hovering warmth of his hand, pressing her cheek against it with only the thought of being comforted by him on her mind. Ino’s quick to spread his fingers across her cheek and jaw, unconsciously pulling her closer as he did.

“You remember that?” She mumbles, and he nods back at her.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” He tells her. “You scared me too, y’know”

Her brows furrow at him.

“I did?”

Ino nods.

“I didn’t like… being separated,” He admits slowly. “I know you were fine, hell, you were better off than I was, but… not knowing where you were or if you were safe was…” He clenches his draw, and (y/n) nods at him in understanding.

“I would’ve stayed,” She murmurs. “If you’d asked me to stay, I would’ve stayed”

Ino’s not sure if his heart was going to burst in his chest or sink to his gut. All he wants right now is to wrap her up in his arms as tight as he can and never let her out of his sight again.

“I know,” He whispers back, making her frown. “But I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t have been right. Your team needed you,”

Another tear makes it’s way down her cheek, but it doesn’t get far before he’s brushing it away like the others.

“I didn’t want to do anything to stand in the way of your promotion,” He says, and she frowns back at him. “It wouldn’t have been fair-”

“That doesn’t matter to me, not right now- maybe not at all,” She cuts him off before he could explain himself, and he looks shocked. Rightfully so, since meeting her he’s known that becoming a Grade One was the only thing that mattered to her. His lips part and his brows furrow, but he doesn’t know what to say, so she explains herself first. “Ino, I really thought I was going to lose you,” She tells him with a tight squeeze of his hand. “That promotion has been the farthest thing from my mind. What would it have mattered?” She shakes her head as she watches him, sniffling just a little before speaking again. “It would have meant nothing, if you weren’t there with me, too,”

Ino softened then, his thumb stalling from it’s gentle tracing of her cheekbone as he took in the sincerity of her words.

A year ago, she might’ve told him to eat shit if he’d something of the same sort to her. Six months ago she would’ve laughed it off and deflected like it was some kind of joke. Right now, he thinks his heart was going to fall right out of his chest and into her awaiting hands.

(y/n) shuffles anxiously the longer he sits in silence.

“Ino, say something” She mumbles, hoping he wouldn’t make her beg for some sort of reaction.

He chuckles, his thumb moving over her cheekbone once, then twice, before giving into temptation and curling his fingers around the back of her neck to pull her in closer.

Her eyes are shut before his lips slot themselves over hers, but despite leaning into the kiss there’s a small squeak of surprise that dies in the back of her throat when their lips touch. She kisses him back with as much fervor as she can while still being mindful of his injuries. She only hopes that he can feel the outpour of emotions with every kiss, the soft sensation of each one leaving a tingle on her lips.

Her hands reach out to lay at the base of his neck, her touch nearly featherlight with how gentle she tries to treat him. Ino’s less careful, pulling her closer until she finally gives in to deepening their kiss, paying no mind to the dull ache in his jaw. It was easy to forget when her perfect soft lips fit against his like they were made to be kissed by him.

After pulling away for a breath of air, he places one more kiss on her lips, lingering for as long as he could before finally parting from her. It takes her a minute to open her eyes, still reeling from the sudden affection.

With her heart in the clouds and her mind in a lovesick haze, she was still lost in the heavy feelings that were the way she felt about him. Ino chuckles when his eyes open only to find her lost in a daze, sweetly cupping her face in both hands and keeping her as close to him as he could.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, lips ghosting over hers, sending a shiver down her spine. She finally looks up at him, catching her lip between her teeth to keep herself from grinning too hard. “I just wanted to do that for so long. Couldn’t wait anymore”

A breathless little laugh falls from her, her hands sliding around the nape of his neck so her fingers could mindlessly play with the soft locks of hair that fell there. Her cheeks were undeniably warm, and Ino could feel them when she pushed closer to brush her nose against his sweetly.

“Wanted you to do that, too” She murmurs back, and the smile Ino gives her is bittersweet.

He sighs softly as he pulls her in gently, just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, the weight of the apology hanging thick in the air.

She doesn’t want to talk anymore about what’s happened, doesn’t really want to think about it either. Going through it had been rough enough already, processing it was going to be a bitch. She has to shut her eyes to hide the emotion, or at least, keep herself from crying again.

“I’m so sorry,” Ino repeats. “And I’m sorry I was out for so long”

“That’s nothing you should apologize over,” (y/n) chided through a breath. “I’m just relieved you’re alright, that’s all that matters to me right now, okay?”

He tilts his head away from hers, just enough to look back at her. He frowns when her eyes are squeezed shut, thumbing gently at the top of her cheekbones to pry her into looking at him again. It takes her a minute before opening teary eyes. Even with her packing up the last day and a half into a box and forcing it into the darkest corner of her mind, she couldn’t hide all of it from Ino. Not when he stared at her as if he could see straight through to the soul.

It’s a blurry memory, but he can vaguely recall the way she’d cried while holding him. Clearer than the image is the way her voice cracked and whined in his ear, I can’t lose you, you said I wouldn’t lose you. He’d held his promise this long, and Ino very much intends to stick to it.

He plants his lips at the crown of her head, and the comforting affection surprises her a bit, but she just as quickly falls into him. Her arms loop around his neck and her fingers dig into his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as if he alone would keep her in this moment, and away from that dark corner.

“Still,” He insists quietly. “I should’ve been there for you,”

(y/n’s) not sure she’s ever felt love swell in her chest the way she does now. It washes over her in a heavy wave, filling her with relief, and warmth, but most importantly hope. For the first time, she doesn’t fear it, or discard it as a pointless venture.

Things were different now, she decided, her eyes moving between his and the injuries still littered across his face. They would heal just fine, but they were still a gnarly sight to look at now. It made the warm relief in her chest begin to burn. So things were different now because they had to be. Things were different now because she had something she was going to fight for.

Love wasn’t pointless. Love was what was going to push her through whatever horror was next in line.

“Cause we’re partners” Ino finished, his brows twitching ever so slightly as he watched something unknown flash in her eyes. They light up for a moment, before she’s nodding back at him, staring at him with the utmost sincerity.

A small “yeah,” is whispered between shaky nods, and her grip on his shoulders tightens just enough for Ino to notice. His lips tilt upwards.

She’s still quiet when she speaks, but it’s not due to the lump in her throat. It’s from true, genuine love pouring out of her so openly that her voice is practically snatched from her. She squeezes his shoulders once more.

“Partners” ___

a/n: well that was my 23k word ino fic that i had to split up bc it was too damn big. laugh it up how in love with him after thirty seconds of screentime

#takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino imagine #takuma ino fanfiction #ino x reader #ino imagine #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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lightlycareless · 4 months

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Ok but like… virgin!naoya 👀👀👀👀👀 thoughts?

😏 hello. what an interesting topic...

I initially wanted to write something short, like hc's or such, but you know me I just gotta go the whole way hahahah. Anyways, this is very... idk how to say it, I feel kinda bad for Naoya, but I had to exagerate some things because honestly I do not feel a man like him would be a virgin for too long, you know?

anyways, here are the warnings: smut. naoya being weird, a dork tbh (but a perverted one too) and something tells me this is lowkey bottom!naoya too... anyways; MINORS DNI. happy reading!!

Virgin!naoya where all of his thoughts are, of course, having his first time.

He wholeheartedly believes the reason why he hasn't been able to do it is because everyone around him doesn't have good taste. Like, they can't see all that he offers, what a great deal he is:

He has money, prestige, a good education (he’s attending one of the best colleges in the country!) and literally no worry in the world ‘cause the rest of his life is set thanks to his family.

But at the same time, he doesn’t want people to just want him for that.

Unbelievably, he desires someone that will make him feel like the amazing, accomplished, talented, one of a kind, never seen before, man he considers himself to be, even if he didn’t have anything under his name.

If he just wanted sex, he could pay someone for that!

And yet, he still waits for the right one.

Naturally, Naoya isn’t any proud of the fact that he hasn’t been able to get it on with anyone, so he goes to the extent of making things up to compensate for that.

Whenever people around him start talking about their flings, one-night stands amongst other things, Naoya always has something to say:

“Experiences” of course, that he made up from watching porn. And apparently no one has been able to catch him in the lie, either because he turned very aggressive when confronted, or because they didn’t care tbh.

Until someone dared confront him.

“But you didn’t go out that night.”

“I saw you somewhere else though.”

“I thought you said you stayed home all day that time…?”

To say a few.

And when the pieces began to fall into place, alongside the fact how “nervous” he got when asked to elaborate, the earth-shattering truth comes out:

“Wait—Naoya, don’t tell me you… you’re a virgin?”

It’s safe to say that Naoya hides himself from the goddamn world for the following days, right after making the curious asker regret their existence.

But now that the truth was out there, he was on a mission to prove everyone wrong; he was going to lose his virginity, no matter what it took, and stop being the laughingstock of his friends.

He’d start by going date, after date, after date with any girl he thought attractive in hopes of finally getting laid.

But somehow, it just never went through; not even the most desperate woman would accept him, because of course, he just had to open his mouth and that’d be enough for everyone to run away.

Naoya is now, for all intents and purposes, desperate. Wasn’t sex supposed to be the easiest thing to find in the world??

Like, even his dad got laid! He exists for a reason! Why can’t he have the same luck??? He’s even better looking than him!! So why is it so goddamn hard???

…

Naoya really, really doesn’t want to pay someone to do it; doesn’t want to hurt his pride, make everyone believe that he wasn’t able to get it out of his pure charm…

But his delusions don’t get bad until he meets the new girl at school; a transfer student from Tokyo that wanted to know what Kyoto was all about.

Naoya usually didn’t care about these situations, unless he could get use them to his advantage.

But that quickly changes when he sees her—you.

Not that he had any choice, because you had an alluring aura that attracted everyone to you, whether because of your status as a new student, or your surprisingly fun personality.

He got to experience this last part after discovering you had a class with him, eventually assigned to do a group project for the end of the semester.

It all started by meeting at the library after school to work on it, before exchanging numbers, social media, and eventually, hanging out outside of campus to talk not only about the project, but other things as well.

Naoya tries his hardest to not socialize beyond necessary means, share nothing that pertains to personal matters.

But he couldn’t, because the more he spends time with you, the more he learns how much in common the two have. Things he didn’t think a girl like you would like, enjoy talking about, or even wanted to know more of.

It also helped that he found you very attractive. Perhaps the prettiest woman he’s seen in his life—but he sure liked being admired by you more.

However, let’s not forget this is a man that has been “deprived” of sex, so it doesn’t take long for him before he starts fantasizing about you: starting by notion of how your skin would feel against him—it’s warm, it’s scent.

To how you’d look underneath your clothes, how you’d squirm beneath him, begging him to take you and mark you as solely his with those desperate moans he can already hear through your lovely voice.

By that point, Naoya is already getting off at the thought of you about… daily, really. Getting hard the moment he sees you do anything remotely provocative, although unintentionally, or just because you’re there.

Porn is now with actresses that resemble you, immediately getting angry when he doesn’t find any that suits his preference, resorting to stalking your social media afterwards.

He’s highly grateful that you’ve trusted him to add you online, thinks you foolish for having done so. However, it came with a price:

Whenever he sees a glimpse, the faintest hint of another man alongside you, (or worse, in a relationship) makes him highly jealous, to the point of wanting to directly confront you and demand who was that?! And how dare you talk to him while seeing someone else!

Only to stop when (what little) his common sense tells him that if he does so, he might lose you permanently; and he doesn’t want to do that with the only person that has made him feel this way.

Besides, you once (seemingly unprovokedly) told him you were single. So there's that.

Yet, as much as he was obsessed with you, finished to the thought of you, hallucinates of you—he doesn’t go beyond that. Doesn’t do anything to make his dreams a reality.

Or more like you win him to it, one day asking him if “he’d like to get something to eat with you one day” and not precisely to work on that tedious group project, but as a…

“What—like… a date?” he asks bluntly, you look away for a brief second, flustered, before nodding.

So, he accepts, even when he thought he should’ve been the first one to ask but whatever, this is something he can still use to his advantage, precisely for his little setback.

The two end up going to a nearby mall, walking around to see the stores before getting something to eat and watching a movie.

Nothing happens there, as much as he would’ve liked to; however, you do lean into him, rest your head over your shoulder before grabbing his hand and remaining that way until the movie ended.

“I had fun, Naoya.” You’d say as he dropped you off at home. “I hope we can go out again.”

Let’s say Naoya didn’t sleep that night at all.

The two would continue to hang out, both inside and outside the campus, to the point everyone believed Naoya and you were now dating.

Neither denied nor confirmed the rumors for the question had yet to be asked, but even when Naoya had to admit that this was the most time he had invested to getting into a girl’s pants—he'd almost forgotten why he started all this in the first place.

Naoya was genuinely enjoying spending time with you, mostly because you didn’t run away when he began to grow more comfortable with you—although you would tell him to not say certain things (and he’d try, keyword: try)—and as stated before, you were... different.

But he still wanted it, of course. So it shouldn’t come to anyone’s surprise that after a few dates, long nights calling and texting one another, as well as insinuating wanting more, it finally happens.

The two agree to spend the night at Naoya’s apartment after spending the whole day together. How he managed to take you there in the first place, after being unable to keep hands off one another, is to be commended.

Naoya hastily takes you to his bedroom as soon as both walk through the door, where you’d get undressed before moving to the bed.

It’s apparent to you that he wants to get to the main course as soon as possible, yet there’s still hesitation behind his actions, starting from the bruteness behind his kisses, to the tremble in his fingers; almost as if he didn’t know what to do or how to touch you.

But your desire didn’t allow you to worry much about those trivial things, moving forward to the moment Naoya had been daydreaming of.

“Put the condom on, Naoya…” you whined as you laid back on the bed. Naoya, now on top of you, scoffs.

“Why? You’re the only one I’m seeing.” There’s the slightest tremble in his voice, but he means his words either way.

Besides, it’s his first time, he doesn’t want some stupid rubber getting in the way.

“Because I don’t want to get pregnant—we’re not even dating yet!” You jest with a giggle; and the thought of you begetting his child after your first night with him only makes him feel hotter. He wouldn’t mind marrying you, but one step at a time. “Just pull out, ok?”

Naoya was already near his limit when you said those words, but he’s pushed past the edge when hearing the sharp gasp you make upon seeing his cock.

He always knew he packed something good, but he was never sure until hearing your reaction, which certainly urged him to become more arrogant (incredibly) and eager.

And after some quick preparations, as well as mental encouragement from his side, it was finally time for the main event.

He’d had his fair share of reimaginations of what his first time would be like, the kind of pussy he’d like to see, and the beautiful girl he’d get as well.

But none of them compared to the real thing: it’s safe to say that you surpassed all expectations, and he couldn’t wait to have a taste of the pleasure he had been unfairly deprived fro—

“It’s a bit lower, Naoya.” You gently murmur, swiftly cutting through his thoughts, upon feeling his cock prod at… well, anywhere but your entrance.

“…Right.” He frowns, slightly embarrassed before swallowing, refocusing on the prize at hand, adjusting the tip a bit lower and onto your entrance.

He feels the warmth radiating of it as he coats on your glistening sick, before pushing past your tight rim in one swift, yet agonizingly pleasurable, movement.

Naoya never liked exaggeration; thought it to be immature, if not incredulous, but he can’t resort to anything else when describing the sensations he’s immediately engulfed with when entering your cunt.

The tightness, the warmth, it’s gumminess—it was all of his fantasies + more merging into his reality. Ones that just grew hotter and hotter the deeper he moved, making his plans of plummeting into you falter, lowly whimpering as he acknowledged what is happening.

He’s finally having sex—losing his virginity.

And it was so, so much better than he imagined.

It’s like getting high; with the world around him starting to spin as he could only think about staying inside you, relishing on the pleasure he should’ve gotten ages ago, but now it’s here and he—he…!

Naoya wants to move, wants to experience more of the vice grip of your walls on his cock, the softness of your breasts, or the warmth of your kisses.

All while making you scream, call out the name of the one making you feel this way!

But he can’t.

He just... can’t move; he doesn’t—he doesn’t know how to.

As much as he wants to, longed to do so, he’s forced instead to remain there while your body completely overtakes his senses: eyes blurry, jaw tightly clenched, alongside his desperate whines are just a few examples of this.

“Naoya, please…” you beg, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and moving him closer to you, enough to whisper against his ear, as your walls squeeze his cock, as to accentuating your neediness. “Fuck me”

He really, really wished you hadn’t done that.

“Y/N!” He gasps, finally moving his hips back before snapping them against you, mentally preparing for the long night ahead—

Only that he doesn’t move again as soon as he hits your cervix; instead, he keeps still yet again, deep inside you, while letting out a light groan before resting his head against the crook of your neck.

It doesn’t compute at first for you, believing something wrong had occurred, maybe he didn’t want to spend the night with you anymore—

Until a warm, sticky sensation begins to invade your walls; it’s then that everything falls into place, making your eyes snap to him, more than ready to scold him for going against your request—

Only to see that this hadn’t been voluntary; his tightly shut eyes and flustered face proving you other wise as he continued to indulge in this happening, a sensation he undeniably wishes to persevere…

Unless you were to pull him back to reality.

“Naoya—did you… did you just cum?”

“Wha—what?” he breathes, still capable of acknowledging you through the drowning sensation of his orgasm.

“Did you just cum?” you repeat. “Inside me—Naoya, did you—"

“What? No—I—” he says, wishing to refute your incredulous claim, excuse it had been nothing but your imagination, because he couldn’t be one of those!

But one quick look at your entrance was enough to prove him wrong, pulling his cock out and allowing his seed to drip down your pussy and to the sheets; proving that truly, he had finished as soon as he entered you.

“I didn’t—"

And this made him highly embarrassed, if not disappointed.

“Then what happened? You just moved and then—"

“Get out.” He inadvertently says, you blink.

“Excuse me?”

“I said—get out.”

"Naoya, I didn't—I don't think that's— let's talk fir—"

“Leave before I fucking drag out you myself!”

He doesn’t want to deal with this situation anymore, doesn’t want to feel further humiliated by his blatantly obvious inexperience, nor hear anything from you that might highlight this fact—that much is clear by his tone, which swiftly prompts you pick up your things, dress up, and leave him, alongside the notion that his life will be ruined from this point forward.

Because more than shame of the present, he fears the future:

He knows you’re going to tell others of his mishap, spread his disgrace as your life depended on it, further tarnishing his already soiled image for the rest of his life.

All that Naoya could think of from that moment forward was the lengths he’ll have to go to avoid facing the consequences of his ruined reputation: he’ll have to switch cities, change his number, perhaps even his name!

And not only that, but he’ll also have to live in isolation to avoid the jests that will undoubtedly come from his family once they hear of his mistake.

The rest he could tolerate; but this... this he cannot.

But when he returns to campus, expecting to be bombarded by his group of “friends” mocking him for acting like a horny teenager, alongside some other lies you created to further humiliate him…

Nothing seems to have changed.

In fact, everyone continued to act as they always did; his friends greeting him, the rest avoiding him… essentially allowing him to continue his daily routine like it was any other day.

Including meeting you in class.

Naoya does his best to avoid you, having arrived to the conclusion that you’re instead holding his misadventure as blackmail to use when it better suits your needs.

But he can’t, not when you insist on talking to him through class, almost enough to be reprimanded by the teacher.

“What do you want?!” he scowls as soon as the two are alone, in a far away classroom rarely anyone uses.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” You admit. “Why hadn’t you responded my—"

“For what? To make fun of me again??”

“What? No! I wasn’t—I didn’t make fun of you. Why would you even suggest—"

“Then what is it, Y/N? What other reason would you have for this, then?” you don’t respond, this makes him angrier. “Why haven’t you told anyone of what happened that night, hm? Waiting for the perfect moment?”

“What are you even saying?” you ask back, genuinely confused by his accusations. “I get it, it was… surprising, not exactly what anyone would want, but I’d never do that!”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Naoya goaded. “Certainly, you must know my reputation by now, all you could get by spreading something like that!”

“…Because that’s—that’s not what I want to do with someone I like!” You cry.

“What?” he asks, perplexed. Not an answer that aligned to his predispositions. “What do you mean you—you like me?”

He had some notion of that, blatantly obvious by the way you'd following him around like a lost puppy, or the whispers coming from those around you.

In other words, his shock came from the fact that he never believed it was genuine; maybe because deep inside him, he thought everyone always wanted something from him. Seemed to be like that, even up to this point, thinking one of his friends had maybe set you up for this, him willingly naive...

Yet, the evidence was outstandingly contrary.

“Why would I ask you out if I didn’t?” you insist; he shrugs. “…Is this common for you, Naoya? To have people talk behind your back and such?”

“A bit.”

“You need better friends.” You attempt to jest. He sighs.

“… So what? What do you want to talk about?” Naoya begins anew. You press your lips together.

“… I just wanted to tell you that I didn't care that... that happened. And that I didn't mean to do things to make you feel embarrassed, of course.” You explain. “Although I have to admit that it did startle me, thought you had done it in purpose… but then, I saw it was something else, and...”

“I’m assuming you already now that was my first—"

“It was my first time too.” You admit, he blinks, not believing your words. “At least… getting to that part.”

“You? Your first time?”

“I don’t know how to take that.” You frown.

“I was referring to what others think of you. You must’ve heard that by now." he says.

“Yeah; I have.” you admit. "But I'm not interested in that."

“Then why me? Why are even you doing all of this, even after that?”

“Because you don’t treat me like they do; to you, I’m just another student coming for class, not some shiny new toy some can’t wait to get their hands on..." you murmur, before chuckling. "And because you’re the most handsome one here!"

"Really?" he raises an eyebrow, doing his best to avoid his fluster from showing on his face.

You chuckle, Naoya smirks.

“… I thought it was cute.”

“What was?”

“…you know, that.” You silently admit, Naoya finally blushes. “I mean, I didn’t like you finishing inside me, but I... I never had anyone like me that much, you know? If anything... I’m surprised you haven’t done this with anyone else.”

“It’s simply my reality.” he says; some things are just incapable of being explained.

“Well then, I’m flattered I was the first one.” You grin. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

“I’m the one supposed to say that.” He frowns, you giggle. “… so… what does this mean?”

“…That we can try it again, everything I mean. I still like you, after all...” you chuckle nervously, before looking away. “But only if you still want to, of course, I don't want to sound like I'm—”

“Dinner; tonight, in my apartment.” He says immediately. “After 7, once I’m done working out, I'll go pick you up.”

“I’d like that.” You smile, taking a step closer. “But first we have to finish our group assignment! Also, don’t kick me out again! Or I won’t take it nicely this time…”

“Then my girlfriend shouldn’t tease me.” Naoya smirks, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him, hands resting on your waist. You pout, flustered.

“Don’t make it too easy.” You respond, tiptoeing to kiss him. “…my dear boyfriend.”

it's like all universes will have me writing naoya and y/n ending up together; you'll have to specify otherwise if you don't want to i'm sorry that's just how it is here.

also I recently saw american psycho and idk why (I guess it makes sense) but the whole dynamic of patrick bateman and his colleagues makes me think of Naoya; like they'll always be competition, seeing who is better in what—but even then, no one really likes Naoya HAHAHAH

anyways, i had fun humiliating Naoya a bit :) y/n really committed to the unconditional love thing here—but now that I'm done with this, I can certainly say this is more of a bottom!naoya kind of thing. It truly feels like it, doesn't it? hehe.

Hope you enjoyed it either way!! Thank you for sending in this ask ❤️ Take care and hope to see you soon!!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

Text

Agnus Dei - Kaz Brekker x Grisha!Reader

[vulgar language, unresolved grief]

SUMMARY: When one of his Crows is revealed to be a Grisha on the run from the Black General, Kaz needs to make a decision: their lives or hers?

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.2k

[PART 2 RIGHT HERE]

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

Everything is going according to plan: the guards didn’t change their routes, the vault was where it was supposed to be, the lock combination Inej acquired worked, the necklace and documents were inside. And yet, you can’t help but feel that something is off as though you have forgotten a pair of socks when packing for a trip - a detail small and unimportant, while capable of making a substantial difference. Like an itch you can’t quite scratch.

A tremor shakes the manor down to its foundations. Dust and pebbles fall off the ceiling in an ominous cloud. Overhead crystal chandelier rings as the small gems clatter against one another.

Blyat.

There it is.

“What was that?” Jesper asks an octave higher than he normally would have.

“The dynamite must have compromised the stability of the building,” Kaz says as his eyes trail the cracks forming along one of the walls. “We need to leave.”

“Are you saying-”

“Crushed to death, Jes,” you cut him off.

“Why can’t you ever give me a nice surprise? It’s always death and injury.”

You cross your arms on your chest. “Do I look like Ded Moroz?”

Jesper gives you a childish, playful smile. “I wish you did.”

“Come on,” Inej impatiently rushes the two of you. “You can biker when we’re out.”

Everyone follows Kaz, who weaves and turns through the palace corridors as though he knows them like the back of his hand. Considering how much time he had spent staring at the blueprints, it might well be true.

The tremors only grow in strength and frequency. The low hum of crumbling foundations is interrupted by the heavy, rushed footsteps of the guards. You are yet to run into them but considering they thunder somewhere above your heads, it’s only a matter of time before you look down the barrels of their muskets.

You jump to the side when a boulder falls next to you, a mere inch from crushing you. The muskets have to wait.

It’s hard to walk straight when the ground is shaking so much. Pieces of the ceiling and upper floors have you weaving and running into whatever hasn’t fallen yet.

“We won’t make it out in time!” you yell over the noise of crushing foundations and an avalanche of rubble coming your way.

“We will!” Kaz yells back. You’re unsure who he’s trying to convince more: himself, you or the decaying building. “Just go!”

“The entire ceiling’s coming down!” Another block of stone falls in your vicinity, throwing dust and ground bricks into the air. The flecks claw at your throat as you cough. Your eyes burn. “We need to find cover!”

Brekker stops. He lifts his head to look at the cracked bricks above the four of you. In the cloud of dust and refracted, dim light, you notice his face losing colour.

“Hide!” he interposes. Jesper and Inej waste no time curling up underneath tables and fallen shelves.

You’re almost under a desk, sheltered from the rubble about to fall on your head but something stops you from seeking safety - sudden confusion at your own actions. The realization creeps up on you, making you surprised that at some point you really have forgotten that you don’t have to hide from overgrown pebbles and crushed chandeliers; at some point, you have truly believed the lie you’ve been telling everyone for so many years.

Time seems to slow down as you stare at the crumbling ceiling. You don’t breathe, your heart doesn’t beat. Just the rubble above you and the ringing in your ears. Something tingles in your fingertips when you absentmindedly rub them together.

Do it.

Your thoughts float towards the three Crows. Sure, they’re criminals but do they deserve to die for that? Should they perish, so you can take your secret to the grave? Casualties of war they didn’t wage?

Do it.

Perhaps this day was always coming.

Jesper pushes his head further between his knees, awaiting the final blow. But it doesn’t come. Hyperventilating and confused more than ever, he opens his eyes. The floor is covered with dust and pieces of bricks. Maybe he’s already suffered brain damage or maybe those pebbles and shards really were floating an inch above the ground.

“What in-” he whispers to himself.

The dust collecting in his lungs throws him into a coughing fit. He manages to get on his knees and stand up holding the desk he’d been sitting under. Jesper’s eyes meet Kaz and Inej, who appear just as confused at the fact that they’re still alive. Even more - not a stone threatened their well-being.

Inej suddenly gasps, vaguely pointing away from the three of them. The men’s gazes follow her hand right to the tip of her finger and that’s when they see it:

You’re standing a few meters away from their hiding spots, hands lifted over your head as though you were lifting something. Boulders and falling furniture hang mid-air, stopped by a mysterious violet flame pushing them away from the floor. With a small hop to the side, you swing your hands, making the rubble fly across the already-ruined hall. The remnants crush against the wall, breaking into smaller pieces before settling on the ground. Not a wrinkle, not even a bead of sweat runs down your skin when you turn around to look at them with guilt and apology painted all over your face.

Jesper is the first to break the silence of flabbergast:

“What was that?”

Inej stares at you with wide eyes, her lips slightly agape. "You're Kosomova.” It’s a statement, not a question. She seems to still be deciding between awe and disbelief. “The Lost Dynasty of Sankt Mikhail."

"What's dormant is not lost, Inej,” you say while awkwardly rubbing your hand. There’s no point in lying anymore. “It's just hidden."

You feel his stare boring into you but you don’t dare meet his eye. Just like this beautiful manor, the foundation of his trust has crumbled. It’s hard to estimate the damage and the prospect of whether it is possible to raise the palace once more. Perhaps he’s silent for now but you know this knot must be untied; a cast-aside viper always slithers back to bite.

The boulders and furniture you threw at the wall have breached it in a rather impressive manner. You can leave and disappear in the crowd before the guards even get to this part of the building. There is something positive to barely escaping death, after all.

"Mikhail?” Jesper repeats, his eyebrows furrowed. Walking through a gaping hole in the wall, he squints his eyes when daylight hits his face. “As in Mikhail the Unbowed? Didn't the Black General issue a bounty on his whole bloodline?"

"And it keeps growing every year or so,” you say indifferently while dusting the flecks of bricks and stone off your dark clothes. “Honestly, I'm kind of flattered he thinks I'm worth seven figures in Kruge."

People of Ketterdam stop by, look at the palace and then at you, only to shrug and carry on with their daily lives. Something about the malice residing in the air of this city makes everyone aloof to the plight of others. Most of the time you think of this tendency as wretched and heartless but today you can’t be grateful enough. Soon, all four of you are part of the uninterested, grey crowd flooding the cobbled streets.

“But why?" Jesper coaxes, "What did you do?”

“I control gravity, making me a catalyst for any summoner,” you answer quietly in case someone can hear your conversation.

“Make or break the Fold,” Inej interjects.

“Probably, yeah.”

But his curiosity is not satiated just yet: “He already has the Sun Summoner. What does he want with you?”

Suddenly, you stop walking and Jesper almost runs into you. You look at your friend with a morbid seriousness he has never seen from you before. “A man as ambitious as him will not stop at the Fold. He could turn the whole world into his own empire with me and the Sun Summoner at his service. Mountains will bow before him, oceans will separate so he can pass. No one should have that power.” Your gaze lowers, too ashamed to meet any of the faces staring hard at you. “Make arrangements to flee Ketterdam,” you interpose before taking a few steps backwards. A turn, a rushed step, a rounded corner and suddenly you’re gone as though you were never there.

The stairs creak under someone’s weight. Irregular footsteps grow steadily louder until you hear a soft whine of the hinges as the guest pushes your door open.

"You're leaving."

Hearing Kaz’s voice makes you stop in your tracks for a second, hands filled with clothes and trinkets hover right above the bag. A sting in your chest, that you wave away; you can’t get hung up on your feelings, not now. Not when they inevitably lead to tears.

"Once the news travels across the Fold, the Black General will be here in no time,” you say without looking at him. With a newfound will to get away as quickly as you can, you continue packing up a lot faster than you did before. “Promise me that you will do everything to survive that. Sell me out, I don't care. Just promise me you will be fine."

"When were you going to tell me, Kosomova?"

Surprised, you drop the utility belt you were about to toss on top of the heap of clothes already in the bag. The hint of angry disappointment, a bitter betrayal, in his voice makes your heart break.

You give him a quick glance, only to pick up the belt and resume packing as though you’re absolutely fine with this strange situation.

"Please, don't call me that, Kaz.” No matter how unbothered you want to seem, he’s a bit too observant not to notice the pleading tone hiding between words.

"It’s your name."

You let out a sigh. Standing up and straightening your back, you finally dare to divert most of your attention to him. Face-to-face, as befits something between companions and colleagues.

"I haven't been Kosomova in over a decade. The life I lead and the people I'm grateful to love, I've done all of this as Zavrazhny. So that is my name.” Your eyes escape his face for a moment when you feel embarrassed at your own naivety. “And I wasn't going to tell you. Ever.” Awkwardly rubbing your arm, you look at him once more. To your own horror, his expression doesn’t falter, stuck in this indifferent frown he wears most of the time. What is he thinking about? “It was stupid of me to think I could actually escape my ancestry but a girl can dream."

Too ashamed to look at his face any longer, your gaze falls to the floor. Maybe this day was always coming.

You fasten the bag and throw it over your shoulder. It’s grown heavy since the last time, pulling you down with the weight of both your useless souvenirs and the memories they hold. Some of them you can probably sell for a nice price, earning you a night of rest on something better than a haystack.

When you’re about to walk past Kaz and out of your room, surely to disappear from Ketterdam and resurface on the other side of the world with a new name and backstory, he suddenly lifts his cane in front of you. Frustrated, you look at the symbolic blockade and only then at him.

Turning his head to the side to look at you, his gaze appears even angrier than before. "You are not going anywhere,” Kaz nearly grits through his teeth.

Why won’t he just let you go?

Your voice is equally low when you answer him. "This isn't the bloody time to play broody and bossy, Kaz. I'm endangering the entirety of Ketterdam with my presence, I'm-...” you stop yourself from finishing the sentence, wondering if you really want to float along this wave of honesty. He slightly lifts his eyebrows, egging you to continue. Your voice is suddenly very quiet, as though you’re afraid someone else might hear you too. “I'm putting you at risk. And I can't have that."

"Have you any idea how much I have invested in you?" The stress he puts on the word is odd as though there is a hidden meaning behind it - one he can’t quite make himself say outright. You feel your chest tighten at the realization. It’s not a monetary value he’s speaking of. No, it’s something he’s too afraid to name correctly even inside his own head. "You're staying here, even if I have to make you."

You shake your head. "I don't want everyone sticking out their necks for me. It's not worth dying for. I'm not worth dying for. Save yourself, Kaz. This is not your fight."

"If it’s you the Black General is after, it is my fight."

His intense gaze makes you break out a flustered smile. "You have a very strange way of saying you care about me, you know?"

Reprieving your decision to flee, you toss the bag back on your bed. Kaz follows your movements with a questioning look on his face as you drop onto the chair by your working table. He thinks the scattered papers on your desk and notes pinned to the wall are very befitting - mind working faster than a steam train, albeit slightly chaotic.

For a moment you’re not saying anything. Slouched and with a vacant look in your eyes, your whole persona just screams defeat. None of the three Crows has seen you like this before, making you realize that this unusual demeanour is going to change a lot on its own. Once shown vulnerability can never be taken back, for the better or worse.

"I’ve never told you how I got here in the first place, have I?" you ask. Kaz catches your gaze once more, only to realise something about it has changed. The fire that once resided inside you is nowhere to be found, its place taken by something chilling and haunting. "Around a decade ago, the Black General caught wind of my family. We knew he was coming. One day, my mother packed all of my belongings and told me to leave. I won't ever forget that look on her face - the anger, the shame, the guilt…” Unknowingly, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head slightly. As grief’s fangs gnaw at you, her face appears before your eyes like a mirage; someone’s reflection on the surface of disturbed waters. “She grabbed my shoulders and said 'Forget your pedigree. You have to go out there, see the world, live how you want and be who you want. This family has suffered enough.' So I did. I didn't hear from her ever again. When I was boarding a ship from Novokribirsk to Ketterdam, I overheard the sailors talking about a slaughtered village in the woods. And I knew…” You take in a ragged breath, feeling emotions flooding your head. Even after a decade, this wound hurts just the same. “I knew I couldn't go back. There was nothing to go back to, so I moved forward. It was the only direction left."

It’s too late. You can’t stop it. Tears sting your eyes and you look away from Kaz, grasping at the serious and professional demeanour you’re so desperate to keep. Alas, it has escaped your shaky hands.

A sob violently shakes your body. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to stop the sounds of agony from reaching his ears.

“She died alone, Kaz,” you whisper in a weak voice. Anguish clenches your throat, making you unable to breathe for a moment. Tears stream down your face, salty taste on your tongue. “Rotting in the middle of the woods because there was no one to bury her. Abandoned.”

“If you were there, you would have died, too.” His tone is strangely gentle but you don’t notice it at the moment.

He grips his cane tighter when you look at him with red, glossy eyes. “You can’t know that.”

“Then the Black General would kill your mother just to get to you.”

“Maybe he’d spare her if I agreed to go with him. Or I would have killed him.” You take in a deep although ragged breath, trying to calm yourself down. Kaz wishes he could do something. With the sleeve of your coat, you wipe your face. “She died because I ran, didn’t she? So, maybe if I stay… Maybe I have a chance at redemption.”

“Her death wasn’t your fault.”

Your eyes snap back to his face. They’re still red but not sad anymore. No, something strange clouds them, something Kaz sees only when he looks in the mirror. “But yours will be if I don’t get my shit together. I can’t just keep running. It’s not who I want to be.”

“If you kill General Kirigan you will be running for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll be doing it anyway. Might as well earn the right to the name Kosomova.”

Suddenly, you rummage through the plethora of pockets you have in your layers of clothing. Something gold glints between your fingers but it’s so quick he can’t even begin to guess what you’re holding in your palm when you offer it to him.

“Kaz, I want you to have something. Just in case anything happens to me.”

You open your hand to reveal an antique pocket watch. It looks worn out, a thin layer of verdigris discolouring the keepsake. Golden coating lost its shine and the decorative engravings are nearly completely smoothed out as though someone had been rubbing its surface. For good luck, perhaps. Although barely visible, three cursive letters on the front are still legible: K. M. V.

Kosomov Mikhail Victorovich

Kaz takes the pocket watch, for a moment examining your face in detail. Do you not expect to survive the Black General? Or perhaps this is a token of your trust if not affection?

He gently presses the button on top of the watch and the lid pops open. On the right side is the face of a clock but the hands aren’t moving. Judging by the engraving on the front, the watch has to be several centuries old, making it impossible to say when exactly the mechanism has given out. His gaze follows to the other side of the keepsake, where a message was crudely carved out with something sharp: Я ранен был, но не упал.

“I was wounded but didn’t fall,” you quote. “It’s a family motto.”

Kaz closes the watch with a loud clasp. His gaze returns to you and for a moment you think there’s a shadow of dread dancing across his irises. Then his face turns nearly into a scowl. What fine smithing it really is, to reforge affection into anger.

“Make sure you stick to it,” he orders while stuffing the keepsake in his pocket. “We need a plan.”

“How much time do you think we have?”

“A week at most.”

A half-smile crooks your lips. “Then let’s make it count.”

______

Yes, there will be part 2.

#kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #sab #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #six of crows x reader #six of crows x you #kaz brekker #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows #shadow and bone

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be-my-ally · 1 year

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I wouldn't tell you no lie

innocent reader x elvis request.

pairing: afab!reader x elvis (’68-71 elvis described; as in the pics below)

warning: 18+, 18+, innocence kink, first times - reader gives elvis a handjob - with the promise of more in the future, and is kissed for the first time.

summary: innocent reader has been very sheltered but is now on tour with Elvis, she’s never been allowed to even look at the body of a man but accidentally walks in on Elvis changing and has questions - questions that Elvis is only too happy to answer.

wc: 4.2k

I watched girl happy three times while writing this for absolutely no reason; title is from ‘cross my heart and hope to die’ so that’s probably suggested listening.

also while I have everyone's attention I just wanted to say thank u to everyone for being so lovely + supportive with my silly little fics + a thank u for 200 followers!!!

You nod at Sonny on the way in, who offers you a slightly mischievous grin in response as you walk past. You wonder what kind of set-up you’re walking into; the boys, well, men, but boys, were known for their practical jokes and you had been jumped out at more than a fair few times. So you’re tense when you walk into the hotel room — Elvis was expecting you, or so you thought, and you were surprised when you walk in and you’re the only one in there, not even Elvis to be seen. But as you look around, ducking to check under the bed just in case he was planning on trying to scare you, you suddenly hear his voice from the bathroom, singing in the shower. It’s gorgeous, and not at all rushed, you can hear him repeating verses and changing the scale and pitch as he goes. You consider if you should just leave at this point; you’d only wanted him for a quick question about the arrangements for tonight but who knows how long he’ll be now. But then you think how weird it would be for him to know you were here but had gone before you had the chance to talk to him. So instead of leaving you plop yourself down on one of the couches to wait.

You glance around the room — it’s a lot nicer than yours, and although it’s probably one of the smaller rooms that he’d been put in recently it’s still pretty large. Just the one room rather than a suite; a large king bed and dressing area on one side of the room along with a tv facing the bed, and a full living area — complete with couches and a coffee table at the other end. You’re considering what to tell your mama when she rings this evening; since joining the tour you’ve had to …amend some of your tales of your days to her, knowing that some of the antics that go on would be enough for her to demand you come home immediately if she were to find out. But you’re not a good liar - you have to plan what to say to her.

Elvis walks out of his bathroom, towel slung low around his hips. You gape at him from the couch, twisting to peer over the back at him; looking at his still damp and glistening chest and arms, his hair wet and slicked back, off of his face, pink from the heat of the shower — which you could feel in the steam that escaped through the open door when he emerged. There didn’t seem to be much point to the towel as barely a moment later he was throwing it aside, peering in the closet to find his clothes while completely nude. He doesn’t notice you sat on the couch waiting for him, and you hesitate to draw attention to yourself now - you’re blushing and mortified at what you’ve just seen; the behind of a man’s naked body. Wet and pink, the movement of his muscles as he bent over; his ass — the only reference point you had was in comparison with your own; his looked much firmer and solid, or with statues you’d seen in textbooks; his looked softer, but not too dissimilar. You’re trying not to stare, you know you shouldn’t even be looking, but you also can’t help that your curiosity is getting the better of you.

You’re mentally debating what to do and what your options are when he turns around again, and before he spots you, you spot it, hanging gently between his legs and you can’t hold back your gasp. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen one in real life, even the anatomical sketches in textbooks often being taken out of your hands by your over-zealous mother, it wasn’t something girls like you needed to worry about until you were married; she wasn’t risking that you were going to become one of those outrageous free-love hippy types. You struggle to even name it in your head, euphemisms coming to the forefront and your brain has to scream — be an adult, it’s just a penis, at you as you struggle to think beyond childish words. Despite this thought running through your head a glance is all you’re allowed - your gasp having alerted him to your presence. Immediately his head swings up to look at who’s in his room. He goes through phases of extreme body shyness and body confidence - often depending on his weight, but at the moment he’s fit and healthy and keen to show off. So he doesn’t immediately go to cover up, but you can see his brain whirring thinking of the insult he’s about to shout at whoever he thinks it was intruding; Jerry maybe, he’s never far away, or Sonny from outside. However, upon seeing it’s you he swears, grabbing the towel off the floor and wrapping it around his hips again. You know you should have immediately looked away, but you couldn’t help but continue to stare as he moves, as it moves with him, until he’s all covered up again.

“Goddamn, honey, give a man a heart attack sat all quiet like a mouse there like that.” His voice is quiet, but amused, and pulls you away from where you’re still staring at his now towel-covered crotch. You stutter through an apology;

“Oh, uh, oh, I’m so sorry, oh gosh - sorry! So sorry!” He laughs, and you’re distracted enough now to look at his face. It doesn’t help a whole lot, you’ve always liked how he looks - you’ve always thought he had kind eyes and a smile that made your tummy tingle but with how he looks at the moment, his cheekbones so prominent and his sideburns starting to accentuate his face even more you find yourself thinking that you like this iteration of him an awful lot; perhaps the strange feelings from your look at him a moment ago have preoccupied your mind too much - you’re suddenly unable to think of much else but how handsome he looks. You blush even harder than you were before - you can feel the heat rising off of your cheeks.

“Give me a second hon,” and he disappears into the bathroom with his clothes again, you’re shielding your eyes when he comes back, both out of embarrassment and concern that something similar may happen again, “S’ok baby, I’m decent enough now.” He smiles at you, and you lower your hands to see that he was, indeed, now fully dressed. He’s put on one of the drawstring shirts he’s been so fond of recently, the top loose and open - the hard line of his chest peeking out of the large open collar. But you were at least used to the sight of that; it had shocked you at first, but now you’ve been around for a few weeks you had grown used to it. He’s buckling a pretty gaudy belt on top of his fitted, slightly flared, black trousers as he walks out. He’s acting as if nothing had happened - continuing to go about his business putting on cologne and his jewellery, necklaces now hanging down in the open collar. He looks back at you through the mirror on the dressing table that was at an angle, allowing him to see you still peering over the back of the sofa.

“What did you need honey?” You’ve always found yourself a little giggly around him, a little desperate for his attention and you’ve always understood that was partly because he was so attractive, and partly the force of his personality. But now, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes has, for some reason, made your mouth go dry as you look at him. You try to recall the reason you were there but it had completely escaped you, and rather than answer his question you had to ask a burning one of your own -

“I came to see if you, if you wanted - El, what - what was that … between your legs?” He pauses. Staring back at you in the mirror,

“What do you mean? It was my dick baby,” You gasp, but you’re pleased to know that your earlier thoughts had been correct.

“Is that - that’s what they look like?” He’s shocked and he turns around to face you, properly, but he’s also smiling like he’s just heard an amusing joke.

“Well, some of ‘em are quite a lot smaller, but yeah it’s pretty typical looking, for… for an unc-, no yeah it’s pretty typical.” He looks down, and you can see him thinking about something but he doesn’t expand any further, crossing his arms and leaning against the table.

“So, do you not… you don’t have a kitty like I do down there?” He frowns at you, shaking his head, he’d thought you were playing with him a moment ago, but now he’s not too sure; “Like at all?” He laughs,

“No honey, no, uh that’s uh - that’s how boys and girls are different - you got a set of holes in your kitty, and we got… we got penises and uh, balls.” You nod, you already knew that, of course, but you hadn’t known it was just one or the other - you’d always assumed that men just had, extra equipment to yours. You start to think of things to say to change the subject, satisfied to finally understand the difference between men and women, before a thought pops into your head that you have to ask while you have him in front of you and willing to tell you things others never did. You wrinkle your nose asking;

“Well then … how d’ya pee?” He laughs, coming towards you and sits down on the couch next to you while he thinks of how to respond,

“What do you me- do you think you pee out of the same place?” You nod, of course. He laughs at you, his eyes crinkling as he shakes his head,

“Um no sweetheart, You uh, you have a separate little hole; gonna have to get you a mirror and have you take a look baby - but I, well I pee out of a little slit at the head.” You don’t believe him — you know where you pee from, and it’s the same place that gets wet every now and again; otherwise what is that? But you’re too distracted by his own anatomy.

“Like - like a mouth?” You’re aghast, dreaming up a horrifying looking image. But he laughs,

“No, no - not, not quite like that.”

“Well then I don’t know what you mean, I’m sorry, I just, I just can’t picture it.” His gears are turning in his head and he stays silent for a moment before saying,

“Would it be easier to understand if I showed you?” On the one hand your mother had always told you not be alone, or naked with a boy unless you were going to get married, so you should say no. On the other though you were so curious. And really this seemed like information you should know as an adult! So you nod,

“Oh would you!” You watch as he swallows, his adams apple bobbing - almost as if he was nervous, but he couldn’t possibly be. He starts to unbutton the trousers he’d just a moment put on. He pauses when they’re undone, as if he’s considering if he should take them all the way off. In the end you stare as he shoves them down to his knees, stops and then steps all the way out. You get to look over at him again, this time much closer.

When you reach out with one gentle, tentative hand and brush your fingers over it, he jumps as if he’d been hurt and you pull your hand back as if you’d been burnt. “No, no, baby it’s fine - go on, you can touch it.” You don’t want to hurt him, just for the sake of satisfying your curiosity, but when you looked up at him he’d smiled encouragingly at you, reassuring you enough that you reach out again. You gently skim your fingertips over it again, you’re fascinated by how it seems a darker colour than the rest of his skin, the strange feel of the simultaneously silky but wrinkled and soft but taut skin. You gently wrap your hand around it, feeling the strange mix of hard and soft and its heated temperature. You squeeze, gently, and brush a finger over the head. Where you can see, just behind, a little wrinkle of skin has left it exposed and shiny where it was half-covered before. Elvis had been desperately trying to remain silent and still but with that move he can’t and he lets out a high-pitched moan. You snatch your hand back, he’d sounded wounded. Apologising profusely,

“Sorry, sorry - Elvis, sorry, I didn’t know, didn’t know that would hurt you, sorry! I, uh, I’m so sorry you can, you can put your trousers back -” He interrupts you, bright red and blushing, but his pupils blown wide and lips red with where he’d bitten them, as he quickly attempts to reassure you;

“No no, no I’m fine darling. It feels too good s’all. It’s just, you’re making me feel so good baby, so good.” You frown, uncertain - it doesn’t look like it’s feeling good, it looks hot and sore to you. “I promise, sweet thing, promise - you can put your hand back on, if you - do you want, want me to show you how to make me feel really good?” You’re still not sure, and he continues, pleading, “C’mon baby, my pretty little yittle baby - you, you know you are right? My baby, my little girl, you gonna make me so happy?” He looks down at you, earnest eyes meeting your wide ones. “Gonna show you how to do it? How ta, how ta please a man? Please me? Treat me nice; let me show you how to help me?” You couldn’t deny his desperate pleads anymore and you nod, steeling yourself to try again, reminding yourself you weren’t hurting him, you were helping him.

“I, I - ok, but you hafta, you hafta tell me how El, I can’t - I don’t wanna hurt you or anything like that.”

“You won’t, you won’t baby, just, just wrap your little hand around it, there,” He smiles encouragingly at you as you do as he requests; nervously wrapping your hand around and rubbing it up to the tip. You stroke a finger across the shiny pink end and stare, fascinated, as a bead of thin white liquid forms at the tip. You gasp, pulling your hand away when your finger accidentally touches it.

“Gosh, it’s leaking! Oh ew Elvis! — don’t pee on me. That’s disgusting!” You shake your hand, holding it away from you. He’s quick to grab your wrist before you can wipe it on the couch, correcting you,

“No, no, no, baby it’s not, it’s not pee. It’s uh, it’s… it’s what makes babies, darling, but this little bit of it is, it’s the same as why you get wet down there. Bet your little panties are clear through right now.” You blush, how could he know that you sometimes, unknowingly, seemed to wet your pants,

“Elvis - don’t, it don’t happen often enough for you to accuse me of peeing my pants,” his laugh in response is strained.

“No, no, baby, it’s not pee, it’s slick baby - it’s saying … that your little kitty wants something in it … wants someone to touch it.” He pauses, suddenly realising that he’s your only point of reference for any of this — “but you mustn’t - not ’til you’re completely alone, or, or, with me - you understand?” You frantically nod and he continues talking, satisfied he’d impressed that upon you sufficiently; “and it's making that because it wants to make it easier for a uh, for uh a penis to go in there. That’s how babies are made sweetheart.” You frown,

“My mama always told me you got given one from the church where you got married - you prayed hard enough and it got put in your tummy like Jesus and Mary,” he smiles,

“I think your mama was very smart - tryin’ to keep you innocent but I swear… I promise I’m tellin’ the truth.” For some reason, you believe him. And he can tell, moving your hand back onto him, the thin sticky wetness cooling on your fingers;

You stop, a hair’s breadth away from touching him - looking up at him, “So, uh, so - if we’re alone I can, you’ll let me touch myself too?”

“Of course honey, of course, I’ll even touch you myself — but right now, I need you to move your hand a little, ok baby? Think you can do that? Just gotta listen to me, ok?” You nod, suddenly determined to show him that you can take instruction. Your hand trembles as you reach it out again, and he tucks it under his own fingers, firmly but gently placing it back onto his length. You’re again surprised at the heat, and how it somehow seems to have firmed up even further.

He directs your hand, his palm on the back of yours, both in pressure and movement. You feel him jerk underneath your palm and you can’t help but jump in slight surprise,

“S’ok, s’ok baby, just feels good. Tha-tha- that’s just right darling.” It doesn’t take long before his hips are stuttering, and you’re starting to understand the motion and technique that makes him groan in pleasure. He grips the back of the sofa over the top of you, releasing your hands and caging you in between his arms; it puts you at an awkward angle, and you wriggle up to get onto your knees. It puts your head back near his chest height rather than directly facing his crotch and, though you were fascinated by what was going on, you were slightly relieved at the distance. Now that you’re in sole control you feel free to experiment to your heart’s content, twisting your hand and stroking a gentle finger down to his tip. You watch as a thin stream pulses out at the feel of that, and he lets out a little cry;

“Don’t, don’t tease me baby, s’not nice, not when I’m bein’ so kind - lettin’ you learn like this. Showin’ you what ain’t seen ‘fore.” You nod, feeling slightly chastised even at his soft words, and return your grip. You giggle, suddenly thinking that in some ways it reminds you of milking a cow. All this tugging and twisting. He groans above you again, begging -

“Can, I, sweetheart - can I kiss you?” He cups your cheek with one of his hands, distracting you and pulling your eyes up to meet his. You nod, whispering agreement, and you think frantically for a moment if you should warn him - tell him that you haven’t done this before either but before you have the chance he’s cupping your cheek and bending over capturing your mouth in his.

You press your lips to his, and he responds in kind, but a second later you’re shocked when he opens his slightly, suckling on your lower lip. He pulls it back a tiny bit with his teeth and you whine at the little sting, but also at the sudden butterflies springing in your belly. You don’t know what else to expect, and go to pull away, but his hand cups the back of your head, holding you in place so you’re forced to breathe through your nose and let him continue. Your hand squeezes involuntarily at the action and he falls even closer to you, pulling you so that your arm is sandwiched between you both. He pushes his tongue against yours, and you can feel his little smile when you catch the hint, letting him push it into your mouth. You feel awkward, uncertain what to do with your own tongue, and you don’t know where you should be looking - he’s got his eyes closed but you can’t help but watch his face - stare at the arch of his nose and his long lashes. You melt against him as his tongue continues to map your mouth, not even realising that you’re chasing his lips wherever they move or that you’re making tiny little gasping noises. It feels weird but certainly not something you’re opposed to, now you’ve felt it, and you certainly are getting pleasure from it, little zings going straight to your core as he brushes over your teeth and cheeks. He pulls back for a second, panting,

“Was that - have you done that before?” You shake your head, and his hangs forward, chin resting on the top of your head, groaning. “Lord, baby, what I wanna do to you.” You twist your hand, where it was still holding him, although slightly forgotten in the heat of the moment that had just passed, and he moans again, his head lifting to fall back the other way.

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He’s gabbling approval at you, and you somehow continue touching him. You narrate to him your actions as you do, feeling and hearing when something felt particularly good to him.

“Is that right? You like this? Is it better if I do this?” And you swipe your thumb over his head — he thrusts forward, his hand that was still cupping your head coming down to clutch at your shoulder.

“Just, almost there, I’m almost there. That’s it baby, doin’ so well for me. That’s it, oh god, that’s it.” He’s constantly talking, and you can feel his eyes watching you now, so you bring your other hand up, feeling around to the strangely soft and silky skin just behind his cock, you stroke that, while the other continues its ministrations. That seems to be enough to send him over the edge, as a moment later his hips stutter, and he yells out a curse as a milky stream spurts out of the end straight into your palm. You hold him through it, uncertain of what else to do, and you’re not sure if that’s all you need to do so your hand stays there until he whispers,

“S’ok little one, that’s me done. For the moment, that’s - uh, that’s not, that's not what you think - that’s babies there in ya hand.” You look up at him shocked, before looking back at your palm, suddenly panicked that you might have to be a mother now.

“Babies?!” He chuckles,

“Yeah, hon, but they don’t - they don’t grow unless I put ‘em in you.” You breathe a sigh of relief, “They don’t… you don’t only do that for the babies to grow though, it’s uh, its also because like what we just did - it feels good.” You nod, it’s starting to make an awful lot of sense, but you’ve still got that feeling in your tummy and his earlier accusation was right - you could feel your wetness now; although you’re far less ashamed of it now that you know it wasn’t pee. You squirm, and he strokes your face, just a single finger down your jaw, looking down at you before turning to put his trousers back on. He’s buckling up his belt, and you’re still sat there with the pooling ejaculate on your hand, it looks kind of similar to that thin icing, like your mama used to put on her pound cakes. And you’re tempted to have a tiny taste when he turns to grab something off of the side, but when you run a finger through it you’re put off by the texture, and the reminder that it came from him. He turns back to you, talking again and distracting you from your study.

“That’s all there is to it, baby - now you’ve seen me and you know. Know how to pleasure a man with your hands and the truth about babies - ain’t that a lot of learning for one day.” You’re about to ask if he could show you what he meant before, since your pussy was, with this heat and wetness, apparently begging to be touched. But you suddenly, as you wipe your hand on the handkerchief he pulled out from somewhere, feel quite overwhelmed. Maybe another day. Kissing and touching was more than enough for the one day. You stand up, as if to leave, and he rushes to you,

“No, no - what’s all this; I can see it on your face. Don’t you go worrying your pretty little head about any of it, ok baby? I’ll, I’ll show you what you need to know - don’t you go worrying ‘bout any of it.” You nod, you want to disagree but he looks so earnest and true, grown-up and handsome, that you can’t do anything but agree. “You’ll come to me if you have any other questions, right honey? ‘Fore you go anywhere else right?” He’s speaking authoritatively, like he’s giving you an order, and you can’t do anything but accept his words.

“Ok - El, ok. I’ll come to you - promise.”

#elvis smut #elvis smut request #be my ally #elvis x reader #elvis presley smut #elvis x you #elvis fanfic #elvis presley x reader #be-my-ally request

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

As the World Turns 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, imbalanced power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job takes you to new places with lots of new people.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I know I shouldn't have done this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

When you accepted your new position, you didn’t expect that two days later you would be on your very first business trip. Ever. Like at all!

It’s exciting. It’s not only your first trip overseas for work but your first trip across any border. You’re as happy to get use out of your passport as you are to have the new experiences. You don’t know, however, how much you’ll be able to enjoy any of it. It’s still work after all.

You stand at the luggage belt as your phone vibrates. It’s your boss, Mr. Fowler, once more asking you where you are. The car’s already there. It’s not your fault the elite class flyers got off first and you’re stuck searching for your bags among the sea of coach passengers.

‘Will be there shortly, sir. Just coming through customs.’

It’s a small lie but you don’t think he’ll be impressed to hear you’re struggling to find your bag. It’s not very big but it should be easy to find. A round plastic suitcase in a shade of sunflower you can’t miss. You think it’d be obvious amid the black and black suitcases milling along on the conveyor belt.

You see the plastic slats part and your bag shines bright, like a beacon calling to you. You race forward and grab onto the handle. You accidentally press the button with your thumb so the handle extends and you’re dragged along awkwardly as you struggle to lift it.

Another passenger approaches to remove his heavy black bag but doesn’t walk away before helping you. You thank him with a smile. He’s older, maybe your grandpa’s age, and he assures you it’s no problem. He walks off and you plant the wheels of your bag straight, swerving around as you follow the signs.

You bring your phone up again and read Mr. Fowler’s next impatient text.

‘Take the cab fare off your per diem.’

Right. You’re not surprised. From what you know of your boss so far, he’s a stickler. He knows what he wants and he doesn’t settle for less. While he can be charming, even accommodating, he can also be terrifyingly stern. One moment he has that smile that makes his eyes twinkle and the next, his jaw is set and danger darkens his features. The very memory of that expression makes you shiver.

You suppose it’s your own fault. You should’ve considered the job description a bit closer. An executive assistant does a lot more than just the typical secretary. The pay itself was proof enough. Can you really complain? The perks include free trips!

You try to stay as positive as you can, ignoring your mother’s voice as it sneaks into the back of your head. She always has something negative to say. She could win the lottery and complain about the trouble of claiming her winnings.

You make your way through the terminal and into the atrium, passing by new arrivals and waiting departures. You check your smart watch, you’ll get in your steps for sure, and hurry as the minutes tick by. You follow the flow outside and find a spot along the pick up area, waving down a taxi as your phone buzzes again.

‘Don’t show up without scotch’.

The message is terse. You can only assume the flight was less than accommodating. You spent your time in coach looking out at the clouds or catching up on the adventures in Westeros. Terribly depressing books but it only makes reality a little less so.

You get into a taxi and ask the driver to take you to a liquor store. He doesn’t seem to understand you. Oh, boy. You pull up Google translate on your phone and speak into it, setting it to translate into the native language. You let the speaker play the text to voice. The driver nods and starts the meter.

Okay, not bad. You’re figuring this out. If anything, Mr. Fowler has to give you points for effort, right?

You ask the taxi to wait as you run in and find yourself faced with shelves of bottles and cans. This is the hard part, you’re not much of a drinker. With the help of Google, you ask the clerk for a bottle of scotch and pay with the company card. You’re right back out to the taxi.

Everything is so fast, you feel like you’re still catching up. You’re doing things. Every minute matters. You feel important, probably for the first time in your life. No more sitting behind a desk yawning, you’re tired for good reason.

You give the hotel name next and let yourself relax. Just for a little. Your eyes drift to the traffic outside the taxi, the voices all around, the dimming of the sky as the city sets to evening. It’s beautiful and new and wonderful.

The driver lets you off in front of the hotel. You’re greeted by a valet who offers to take your bag. You try to refuse but he insists, so you let him and follow him inside. As you enter, another man approaches.

You’re confused at first. He’s tall, blonde, and dressed as if he’s a businessman visiting on his own sojourn. You look around, thinking he might be headed for someone behind you. No, it’s only you. You turn back and find his blue eyes centered on you as he stops before you.

“Miss, welcome,” he lilts in his refined accent, “may I have your name so we may get you checked in?”

“Oh, yes, thanks, uh, sir. Actually, first, my, er… my boss is here. I think. He must’ve shown up twenty minutes ago. Erm, Mr. Fowler. I have, a oh,” you look down at the bottle in your hands, “I have this for him.”

“Wonderful,” he eyes the bottle, “Izak,” he addresses the valet, “Fowler.”

He takes the bottle from you without resistance. There’s something about his confidence that has you frozen. He hands it to the valet, Izak, and sends him off. You smile and give a nervous chuckle.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you rub the back of your neck.

“That is my job. I’m at your service, miss. Jonathan Pine, manager,” he offers his hand.

You shake it, doing your best to keep a firm grip. His fingers are so long that your hand feels tiny in his. He lets you go as you rescind your hand, crossing one arm over your stomach as you cup your other elbow, playing with the button of your blouse.

“Your name, miss?”

“Oh, duh,” you clutch the front of your blouse and eke out your name.

“Great, this way,” he beckons you with him and leads you to a round desk. He steps behind and types as his blue eyes reflect the screen. “I assume you’re here on business. You mentioned your boss is in another accommodation.”

“Yes, uh, my first business trip,” you almost wiggle with delight, “I’ve never even stayed in a hotel, you know?”

“Well, then I hope your stay is exceptional,” he smiles as he clicks around, giving a thoughtful hum, “allow me to make your first a special one,” he intones, “I’ve upgraded you to a suite.”

“A suite? Oh, but–”

“No additional fee. It will remain at the rate of your previous room,” his eyes flick to you.

“Wow, that’s… do I sound that pathetic?”

“Pathetic? Not at all, miss.”

You chew your lip and sway back and forth, crossing both arms across your chest. You don’t know what to say. He’s so nice that it almost feels patronizing. Or you’re just insecure.

“Allow me to show you your suite,” he comes out from behind the desk, holding out a small black folio.

You take it and look inside, two cards and a little insert with tiny text on it. You bring your hands down to fold over your stomach and back up to let him lead you. He struts along with you to the elevator and hits the button. He gestures you in first and follows.

“You haven’t traveled before?” He asks.

“Not really. We used to go camping but not far from home. Then we didn’t go anywhere. I’ve been working since, er, college, so… this is my first chance.”

“Well, the world is vast and not all are so lucky as to venture beyond their front door. It’s truly a privilege,” he says. The doors ding and parts, again, he waits for you to go ahead of him.

You step out and check the folio. You read the number and match it to a door at the far end of the hall. He’s right behind you as you get to the suite.

“Shall I show you around?” He asks as you stop on either side of the doorframe.

“Erm, sure, why not?” You shrug.

“Might I?” He points to your hands and you give him the folio.

He takes out a card and holds it up, “these can be unfortunately finicky. You must make sure you hold it so,” he shows you how to position it and slides it through the slot beside the handle. The red light turns green and the door unlocks. “Please,” he opens the door and nods you inside.

You enter as he follows. The door slowly closes as he lets it go and he slips the card back into the folio. He puts it on the corner table beside the door and taps it with his fingertips.

“You’ll find the wireless information in there along with the room service details and our continental breakfast times,” he explains, “if you’ve any questions, you may call the front desk.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“Let me briefly go over the rest of your amenities and I’ll leave you in peace,” he avows as he waves you further inside, “a full bath,” he stops at the doorway to his left, “there are jets built in, rather useful after a long flight.”

You give a polite laugh and he presses on. He guides you through the suite; a kitchenette, a mini bar, a sitting space, a bedroom, a balcony, and a key to the private pool. You thank him again.

He goes back to the door, about to leave but pausing at the door, “if you require anything, you may ask for me. Jonathan, remember.”

“Jonathan,” you repeat.

He nods and steps out into the hall, gently closing the door behind him. You feel another buzz in your pocket. Shoot! Mr. Fowler.

‘Scotch is here. Where are you?’

You cringe and hurry out of the room. You should’ve known better. There was just a lot happening at once. You hurry down the hall and stop short of the elevator. You don’t know where his room is.

‘On my way, sir. Where is your room?’

You key in the message, awkwardly lingering as you wait for his response.

‘Not there. In restaurant. Two minutes.’

You push your head back. You really just want to go back to the room and jump into that giant bed. A full queen to yourself. That’s actual heaven. You answer, affirming your obedience and head for the elevator.

You get down to the lobby and once more find yourself lost. You have that problem, not thinking two steps ahead. As you look around, you see the valet, Izak.

“Hi, uh, is there a restaurant around here?” You ask sheepishly.

“Yes, miss, right through there,” he points towards the rear of the lobby to a wide archway crested with a point.

You thank Izak and scurry across the lobby. You put your phone away as you enter the restaurant and a server approaches you. They ask if you want a table for one and you explain that you’re meeting your boss. She points him out and asks you if you’d like a drink. You assume you won’t be staying for dinner so you pass.

As you near his table, Mr. Fowler doesn’t look up. You stop just across from him and wring your hands. You wait for him to say something but he’s focused on the menu.

“Sorry, sir, I was just checking in–”

“Sit,” he demands.

“Right, thanks,” you sit and grip the edge of the table, “it was very busy at the airport and I had to stop on the way for your scotch–”

“But no time to bring it yourself?” He challenges as he sets the menu down, finally looking at you, “I have a colleague meeting me here shortly.” His eyes dip briefly as he eyes your blouse, “hm, you didn’t change?”

“Like I was saying, sir, I didn’t have a chance yet–”

“Undo your top button,” he waves off your excuses as he sits back and grabs the short glass of scotch in front of him.

“Sir?”

“You look like a nun,” he retorts, “just one button, sweetheart.”

You furrow your brow but pop your top button open. It doesn’t show very much but it still feels wrong. You sit back and peer around the restaurant. The din is quiet and the lightning soft and warm.

“Um, so, you want me to stay for dinner?”

“You leave when I dismiss you,” he says curtly.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” you reply.

“Stop fidgeting,” he clucks, “try to sit still.”

“Yes, sir,” your voice shrinks.

He sighs and stares at you, “smile, okay? This is an important dinner.”

“Right,” you force a smile, cheeks trembling.

All the excitement, all your former optimism, slowly slakes away. You get the churning anxiety in your stomach. The same sensation that kept you in bed a few minutes past your alarm. You’re only a few days in, you can do this.

“Fowler,” a voice booms across the restaurant as footfalls approach.

Your boss stands and you scramble to do the same. He shakes the hand of another man as you turn to face his acquaintance. It must be his aforementioned colleague.

“Hansen,” Fowler counters as their handshake becomes a battle, “about time.”

“Pfft, you were always boring. You gotta get out, buddy. Especially around here. I’ll give you a few names. There’s a sweet girl down at the spa–” the man, Hansen coughs, stopping himself midsentence as his eyes fall to you, “oh? And this is?”

“New assistant.” Fowler sits and pushes the tails of his jacket back.

You give your name as Hansen puts his hand out again. Instead of shaking yours, he takes it and kisses it in a very old-fashioned gesture, though something about his demeanour is sleazy.

“Lloyd,” he winks as he clings to your hand, “Mr. Hansen is so boring. Makes me sound like an old man.”

You smile and repeat his name.

“What happened to Bennet?” He turns and claims the third chair. You lower yourself, content to be peripheral to their reunion.

“Gone,” is all Fowler says as his eyes meet yours, “so, what’re you drinking, Hansen?”

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queenie-official · 5 months

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Chapter Nine: ‘the uncovered Tragedy’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

a/n: seat belts on everyone ☺️

Change was inevitable and you were now realizing just how quick it came. small things for starters, for example when you’d rung the bell in your room to signify you where ready to begin your day someone new had joined your morning routine, a stranger at that. see normally you’d only have Eleanora joining you this early in the morning to help you get ready, today however there was a man with her. he waited outside the door of course but as soon as you’d finished he was at your side in a instant. you tried to ignore him at first, he was in proper attire so he had to be apart of the castle staff. but as he followed behind your every move it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

you turn quick on your heel causing him to stop abruptly as to not bump into you. “who are you?” you did not hesitate to ask, looking over him suspiciously. the only thing that stopped you from reacting more drastically was knowing the guards would step in if anything was truly amiss. “my name is Braeden your majesty” he responded casually as if that was all you needed to know. “right…and why are you following me Braeden?”

“i am your Valet your majesty” you raise a brow at that “my Valet..” repeating his words and scanning your mind for what that entailed. “i am to be by your side always, 5 paces away whenever you may need me” he speaks up before you can come to that conclusion on your own. “hmm.. alright then” you say airily, pursing your lips in thought before continuing down the hallway. sure enough each small step you took wether it be to the left or right, front or back he mimicked. it was like he was your shadow, you didn’t like it.

“oh you have one as well” you say to Anakin as you peaked behind him. you had apparently woken up later then you thought, having to eat breakfast alone before you went off to find your husband. you’d found him walking through the halls reading a book, initially curious as to what he was reading until you heard a second pair of footsteps behind him. “what?” he asked confused as he looked up from what he’d been reading.

“a Valet” you answer and he looks behind him to the man you where staring at. “oh yea i met him this morning, his name is Rex” you weren’t sure what to make of this. having people follow you around like some kind of dog on a leash, it felt odd. “nice to meet you Rex” you greet the man and all he does is give you a polite nod, odd indeed. you take another step closer to Anakin and he raises a brow, silently asking what was wrong.

“this feels off” you whisper to him, it didn’t look like he understood your sudden discretion but nonetheless he went along with it. “i wouldn’t say off” he whispered back and you scoffed softly “then what would you say?” he takes a moment to look off to the side and think of a better choice of words, all the while Braeden and Rex now stand beside each other practically mirroring you and Anakin. “okay yea its off but not in a bad way more like just odd.”

“Exactly!” you whisper shout, you felt relieved to know you weren’t alone with these thoughts. “i feel like my every move is being watched” you add, looking behind you at the two men as you do. they stare blindly ahead as if took look over you rather then at so it seemed like they weren’t listening. “that’s because your every move is being watched” he pointed out and all you could do was deadpan at him. obviously you knew that but you meant it more in a ‘i can’t make a mistake they’re watching me so closely’ kind of way, at this point however you also knew that he probably knew what you meant but was just trying to mess with you.

“we are the king and queen surely we could dismiss them so they aren’t always so…” you begin, trailing off as you try to find the right words not wanting to sound rude but Anakin ever the blunt one cuts straight to the point “close” he finishes for you. “yes” you turn to the two men who continue to stand still, they both finally look at you ready to be called upon. “would you two mind leaving us, we are not in need of your assistance” is what you end up coming up with, it was simple enough and you figured they’d leave after that but to your surprise they remained.

“sorry your Majesty but it is our jobs” Rex was the one who spoke, the statement throwing you off completely. “but i am the queen and he the king” pointing to yourself and then Anakin as you speak. “yes and we are your Valet’s” he said it as if it where obvious why they couldn’t listen to your command and all it did was cause a furrow between your brows. “well as your king and queen we need you two to leave us be” Anakin tried this time as if the order would be received differently from him rather than you.

“For what your majesties?” Braeden spoke this time, they really weren’t going to make this easy.“this isn’t working” you don’t even bother whispering this time as you speak to Anakin. “not one bit” he sighs out, closing the book in his hands and letting his arms fall to his side. you both go quiet trying to think of something that might get them to leave.

“Braeden” you address your valet first and then Anakin’s “Rex” both men look solely at you now “i have stuff i would like to discuss with the king alone” you try, putting emphasis on the last word to get the point across. they still don’t budge, that was it. you grabbed anakin’s forearm and tug him along with you as you walk- or rather he let you pull him along to wherever you had in mind.

one staircase and a few long hallways later you were now at your fathers study, stopping just out front of the doors before you went in. “no you two aren’t allowed in here” you stop both men from continuing in alongside you “but-“ Braeden began and you immediately shut him down. “i said no, this is my fathers study no one is allowed in here unless i say so- I mean it” you weren’t going to debate this one, your fathers study was special to you. although it was yours you’d kept it exactly how he left it, a peace of him frozen in time and there was no way you’d just allow two strangers in there regardless of there jobs. “yes your majesty. we will wait out here then” Braeden said, accepting the fact you weren’t going to sway on this matter.

“good” you walk inside the room turning back just to see Anakin staring at you plainly rather then following along. “Anakin?” you raise a brow and he blinks a few times at you “hm?” you give him a tight lipped smile before gesturing into the room “oh” he quickly rushes into the study evidently he’d thought what you’d said applied to him as well.

“i think this is the best we’ll get when it comes to being alone for the time being” you close the doors to the study as you speak. “i feel like we should be allowed to dismiss them if we wish” he answers while looking around the room, taking in the new scenery before plopping himself down lazily on one of the armchairs. “surely we can, but what are we to do? have them taken away by guards.” he raises his brows up before shrugging “well it’s not like we can’t do that” you roll your eyes at his suggestion. “they’ve not done anything inherently wrong to us.”

“speak for yourself” he says whilst sitting up more properly in the chair. “Rex has wronged you?” you ask curiously and he sucks the inside of his cheek in thought before answering “he’s annoyed me since i woke up.” you snort, taking a seat in the arm chair beside him rather then at the desk “that is not the same thing” you laugh and he rolls his eyes “feels like it to me.”

“An-“ he cuts you off before you get the chance to speak your mind “what did you want to speak about?” the question throws you off and you have to think for a good minute to what he’s referring to “oh, no i just said that so they’d leave us be” you finally answer and he quirks a brow and gives you a sly grin “so you just wanted me alone then? you could of just said so, i would of gotten us away from them much quicker.” you blush at his implications “that is not- i was not-“ his smile grows as you stutter.

“what’s that? need some help finding the words sweetheart” he adds, only making it worse for you. turning your head away in hopes you could breath easier and form a coherent thought by avoiding his gaze, he just laughs. the urge to kick him out of the study was strong for a moment but instead you allow yourself to scan the room and look for something else to talk about, that’s when your eyes land on a specific stack of papers that still needed to be addressed.

“you know what there is something i’d like to talk about” you turn back towards him and he leans forwards more towards you. “brilliant as it so happens there is also something i’d like to talk about with you” you pull back a tad tilting your head in confusion at his words. “what do you want to talk about with me?” his face softens this time, turning to a more serious expression rather then his usual playful demeanor with you. “i heard from the staff that you never truly left my side”

“what’re you-“ he puts his hand up to stop you from speaking so he can continue “while i was sick.” he answers the question you where going to ask “unless i’m mistaken?”

“you… you really shouldn’t listen to gossip” you respond, looking down at your hand and twisting the ring on your finger. that just seemed to be the confirmation he needed. “you said it yourself the servants talk, and i may have been in a feverish state but i know i talked to you. saw your face. felt your touch.” he presses and your face burn more. “is there something you want me to say?” you huff.

“no your reaction is plenty, tells me all i need to know” he gives you a smug smile leaning into your personal space. “i have something much more important to discuss then my actions while you where sick” you quickly change the subject, and he sits back examining your face before nodding. “what’s wrong?” he asks completely switching to a more serious tone.

“i need your help convincing the council that a bill they want to pass cannot be allowed” you stand up and walk over to the desk, grabbing the papers you needed and holding them out to him. he pulls himself up, taking the papers and silently reading over them. “i’m not sure i understand” he says confused as he reads. “what don’t you get?”

“you’re the queen, if you don’t want the bill to pass then say so and if people get mad let them be mad” he looks up from the papers to you. “it doesn’t feel that simple Anakin” he was right of course and you knew that but something in you said going about it in such a way wasn’t the best decision and you trusted your gut. “no it is, what it doesn’t feel like is easy. which it won’t be” he corrects you. twisting the ring on your finger again and biting your lip as your go over his words. once more he was right but still…

you aren’t sure when he got so close to you but your chin was being tilted up and your eyes now met his. “if you need my support i am here, you do not need to worry about that. but you must realize you have a lot more power now than you did then y/n.” the softness and sincerity of his voice made you feel like putty. you could count on him and he was making sure you new that.

“thank you” he didn’t say anything after that instead kissing your forehead, a silent way of saying your welcome.

pretty much for the rest of the day you and Anakin worked together to come up with a solution that worked for you. writing speeches, practicing them. it was both successful and unsuccessful, at the end of the day you wouldn’t truly know if any of it worked until you tried. still you needed it to be perfect so even after you both turned in for the night you found yourself right back in your fathers study as quick as you’d left.

a knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts looking up from your desk as you tried to think who it could be, maybe it was Anakin and he’d realized you were back to work. “come in.”

one of the doors creaked open, unfortunately the person on the other side was not your husband. probably the worse possible person it could be was there instead. “Chancellor Valorum, what are you doing here at this hour?” your stomach twisted as you asked, this was weird and something in you was saying to run. you watch him carefully as he enters further into the room, closing the door behind him.

“i’ve come to check in on how your fairing with that new bill that was drafted” he answered casually, walking around the desk towards you. your body moved before your mind did, pulling you on your feet and putting distance between you both. “at eight?” you tried to keep the suspicion from your voice not wanting to read to deep into it, maybe you where just tired and your mind was playing tricks on you.

“well i meant to check in sooner but i was told you where busy with the king, how is he by the way? i’ve received word he got sick towards the end of your honeymoon” he didn’t move, instead he stayed still leering eerily at you. it felt like a monster looking at its prey, something was definitely not right. “…he’s fine, you saw him at the coronation” you force yourself to answer. “i did but looks can be deceiving” he shrugs, his demeanor switching to a more friendly tone. he moves back around the table and takes a seat in one of the chairs. he was completely playing of his previous behavior the smile on his face hollow.

“right, i’m going to be honest with you chancellor i find this meeting inappropriate. you could of waited till morning to discuss matters with me” you try to sound authoritative wanting to put him in his place but also remain professional. “yes but this is urgent, and parliament is breathing down the council and I’s necks. they want to know what your decision is” his face falls again, the constant switching of attitude truly unsettling you. “they will know when me and the king tell them” your voice wavers as you speak.

“you’re being exceedingly difficult about this, i have reason to worry you have your doubts about the bill.” standing up again he begins to walk over to you. “doubts is an understatement, i will not be approving of it. its vile- cruel even. to take away something they only just received” you argue, refusing to back down. probably not the best time to do this but you had to try. as Anakin said you are the queen. “better to get it done now while it’s still fresh than later when they’ve had a good taste of it” he counters and you can’t help but scowl. “i’m sorry do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?”

“i do, do you?” you wanted to scream at him, how could someone be so cruel. “Chancellor what on earth could you possibly want this bill to go through so badly for. i see no reason what benefits have you from this?”

“a lot of the kingdoms money is going towards providing free education to those lower class. money that we could be using elsewhere” you feel yourself physically recoiling at his words. “this is about money!?” you shout angrily. “you’re shocked” he scoffs looking down at you like you were a bug he could squash at any second. “Alderaan is not a struggling kingdom we have money to spare. what could we possibly need the money back for?” you retort and he rolls his eyes. “wars are not cheap your majesty.”

“we are not at war” you say incredulously and he smiles at you like a mad man “not yet” he quips. “we will not be having a War Valorum.” his voice darkens at that reply “Chancellor Valorum” he corrects. “well if this conversation proceeds the way it is i don’t see that title remaining for long.”

“are you threatening me your majesty” he stands directly in front of you now. your backed into a corner, the only thing you can do is cower or stand tall. you choose the latter. “i’m warning you, but you may take it as a threat if you please” you practically spit at him. “This is not how this works, you are to approve the bill. you don’t have a choice.” you push him away from you “i have a choice, I am your Queen!” you shout.

the anger on his face makes you regret your sudden burst of confidence but you refuse to show him that. “you’ve only just got that title if you disagree with the council and cause a fight you’ll see how easy you can be made out to be an incompetent Queen” he threatens. “i will not sit here and allow you to use me as a pawn for a kingdom that is not your own!”

“No! This is not how this works! i did not kill your father just for you to rebel against me.” he shouts back. you felt the whole world cave from underneath you then. the way it stopped so abruptly, like you’d run head first into a wall. your heart raced fast in your chest, you could hear blood rushing through your ears. “what..” you couldn’t believe it- you didn’t want to believe it “my father died from illness”

“did he? or is that how it was made to look.” you felt like you where going to pass out. “you…he-“ it was growing harder to breathe. “let me make myself Clear your majesty, if you wish to live a long life i suggest you rethink your current decision on that bill.” you felt your eyes burn as you watched him walk away “glad we had this talk” was the last thing you heard before the doors shut.

part 10

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06

and the pieces fall into place 🧩🤭 so much to unpack from this chapter 😀 anyways i hope you all enjoyed i won’t bother you with a long note because i want to know your thoughts 👀 love you all 💋💋 Xx<3

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #atoc anakin #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #rots anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin x reader fluff #bridgerton au!anakin x reader #bridgerton au!anakin #bridgerton au #bridgerton #queenie’s thoughts xx<3 #Spotify

130 notes · View notes

girljeremystrong · 2 years

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*books with great love stories and plots that don’t just revolve around them.

SORROW AND BLISS by Meg Mason

Martha’s marriage is falling apart, because there’s something wrong with her but nobody has been able to tell her what. We go back in time to relive all the ups and downs of Martha and Patrick’s relationship to find out if they can make it out together. Beautiful story about mental health and love and family.

TOMORROW AND TOMORROW AND TOMORROW by Gabrielle Zevin

Sadie and Sam love each other but are never lovers and we follow their journey for 30 years, from Boston to California as they develop together a video game and a complicated personal relationship. Very fun book about gaming and being best friends who are often in love with each other and often very mad at each other.

UNLIKELY ANIMALS by Annie Hartnett

Emma flies home from California to New Hampshire as a Med school dropout when her dad is diagnosed with a brain disease. At home her parents are in a fight, her brother is just out of rehab and her childhood best friend is missing. She scrambles to find her feet and pull everyone together. This is such a CUTE, heart lifting book with great characters and GHOSTS.

NEVER LET ME GO by Kazuo Ishiguro

Kathy, Tommy and Ruth are three best friend who have grown up in an English boarding school. But throughout their childhood many things felt wrong and as they grow and leave school they realize just how many secrets were kept from them. It’s a love story! It’s a mystery! It’s a critique of human arrogance!

NO LAND TO LIGHT ON by Yara Zghaeib

Hadi and Sama are a Syrian couple living in the USA. As they are waiting for the birth of their son, Hadi leaves to visit his family and then their lives are uprooted by a travel ban. Sama and Hadi are forced apart and as the physical and emotional distance between them grows, they try to find their way back to each other. This is a pretty sad one, I can’t lie, but such a beautiful story.

YOUNG MUNGO by Douglas Stuart

Mungo meets James in their housing estate in Glasgow. They are young and lonely, they become friends and they fall in love. Unfortunately Mungo is a Protestant and James is a Catholic, and where they’re from these things matter, especially to Mungo’s brother, a violent gang leader. This is not a very happy book either but it is THE best story about being young and falling in love. PLEASE READ THIS. Then come talk to me about it.

REAL LIFE by Brandon Taylor

Wallace is working toward a degree in the Midwest. But he’s Black and he’s queer and he feels distance between himself and his colleagues. We follow him through a summer weekend he spends with his college friends, finding out truths about them and about himself. I will never tire of recommending this book. It’s just so interesting and well written. And lovely words about the start of a relationship.

THE NIGHT CIRCUS by Erin Morgenstern

There is a circus that arrives without warning and is only open at night. Behind the scenes two magicians, Celia and Marco, are involved in a duel they’ve been training for since childhood. But despite all that, they fall in love. This is a fantasy novel that will for sure appeal to any fans of the genre. It’s fun and the aesthetics are sublime.

OPEN WATER by Caleb Azumah Nelson

Two young people meet at a pub in South East London. Both are Black British, both won scholarships to private schools where they struggled to belong, both are now artists - he a photographer, she a dancer - trying to make their mark in a city that by turns celebrates and rejects them. Tentatively, tenderly, they fall in love. So beautiful, so well written. Reads like falling in love feels like. LOVE IT.

SWIMMING IN THE DARK by Tomasz Jedrowski

Set in early 1980s Poland against the violent decline of communism, a tender and passionate story of first love between two young men who eventually find themselves on opposite sides of the political divide. It’s beautiful and poetic and quite sad. Stunning characters, stunning descriptions.

LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB by Malinda Lo

Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club. This is so SWEET. Lily is such a great character and her story fills your heart with pain and glee and pride. I love this book and this wonderful story.

EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM WILL SOMEDAY BE DEAD by Emily R. Austin

Gilda, a twenty-something lesbian, cannot stop ruminating about death. Desperate for relief from her panicky mind and alienated from her repressive family, she responds to a flyer for free therapy at a local Catholic church, and finds herself abruptly hired as a receptionist. Through all of this she finds a girlfriend. And it’s sweet and slow and lovely.

THE PROPHETS by Robert Jones Jr.

A novel about the forbidden union between two enslaved young men on a Deep South plantation. Isaiah was Samuel’s and Samuel was Isaiah’s. That was the way it was since the beginning, and the way it was to be until the end. Goes without saying, this is a sad story that will make you cry and will make you angry. But it is so so beautiful.

YOLK by Mary H.K.Choi

Jayne and June are two sisters living in New York after growing up in Texas. Jayne is struggling through fashion school, while her sister has a hot shot job in finance and a big apartment. They are sort-of estranged until June is diagnosed with cancer. The first love story in this book is between the sisters, but there is a budding romance for Jayne that is so sweet. This is a sweet book. I love it.

EARLY MORNING RISER by Katherine Heiny

Jane falls in love with Duncan easily. He is charming, good-natured, and handsome but unfortunately, he has also slept with nearly every woman in Boyne City, Michigan. A wise, bighearted, boundlessly joyful novel of love, disaster, and unconventional family. This feels like Gilmore Girls but better.

A TIP FOR THE HANGMAN by Allison Epstein

Christopher Marlowe, a brilliant aspiring playwright, is pulled into the duplicitous world of international espionage on behalf of Queen Elizabeth I. I also will never tire of recommending this novel about stupid Kit Marlowe becoming a spy while crushing hard on his best friend. It’s just so fun and so good.

THE BAD MUSLIM DISCOUNT by Syed M. Masood

It is 1995, and Anvar Faris is a restless, rebellious Pakistani boy whose family moves to start life over in California. At the same time, Safwa, a young girl suffocating in war-torn Baghdad with her grief-stricken, conservative father will find a very different and far more dangerous path to America. The fates of two remarkably different people intertwine and set off a series of events. It’s very good, the characters are great and the relationship is very realistic.

THE STORIED LIFE OF A.J. FIKRY by Gabrielle Zevin

A. J. Fikry is cynical but lovable. His wife has died and his bookstore is experiencing the worst sales in its history. Slowly but surely, he is isolating himself from all the people of Alice Island. But there’s Amelia, the lovely and idealistic (if eccentric) Knightley Press sales rep who keeps on taking the ferry over to Alice Island. Such a lovely book. Lovely and heatwarming with amazing characters and unpredictable plot.

WRITERS & LOVERS by Lily King

Blindsided by her mother's sudden death, and wrecked by a recent love affair, Casey Peabody has arrived in Massachusetts in the summer of 1997 without a plan. She waits tables in Harvard Square and rents a tiny, moldy room at the side of a garage where she works on the novel she's been writing for six years. When she falls for two very different men at the same time, her world fractures even more. Again this is just a lovely book. About love and grief and being lost.

AN AMERICAN MARRIAGE by Tayari Jones

Newlyweds Celestial and Roy are the embodiment of both the American Dream and the New South. He is a young executive, and she is an artist. But as they settle into the routine of their life together, they are ripped apart by circumstances. Roy is arrested and sentenced to twelve years for a crime Celestial knows he didn’t commit. BEAUTIFUL. Just masterful work. Will make you cry like a baby.

THE SONG OF ACHILLES by Madeline Miller

Achilles, "the best of all the Greeks," son of the cruel sea goddess Thetis and the legendary king Peleus, is strong and beautiful. Patroclus is an awkward young prince, exiled from his homeland. Brought together by chance, they forge an inseparable bond, despite risking the gods' wrath. I mean I like this. It’s poetic and romantic and it’s a classic story. Had to make the list...

TOM LAKE by Ann Patchett

Set during the pandemic when the main character and her three daughters are quarantining in their farm. The daughters get their mum to tell them the story of how she fell for and dated a famous actor while putting on a play in her 20s. VERY SWEET AND SPECIAL and also ann patchett can do no wrong!!!!

SIRENS & MUSES by Antonia Angress

The story of two very different girls who meet in art school. Lots going on in this book but it's all very poetic and interesting and the two main characters go through a lot but also like each other a lot.

IN MEMORIAM by Alice Winn

About two boys who meet in boarding school and then join war world I. It is insanely sad and it's a book about the war and about young people meeting terrible fates, but very romantic and they keep sending letters that are heartbreaking and they really love each other.

THE LATE AMERICANS by Brandon Taylor

About a group of friends and acquaintances who are all young and fucked up and all in different weird relationships but it's very interesting and Brandon Taylor also can do no wrong!!!!

TIN MAN by Sarah Winman

About two boys who meet in their youth and fall in love but then suddenly there's a time jump and it's been years and one of them is married to somebody else and the other one is nowhere to be found. Sad but also very special and definitely a book that is all about love.

LESS by Andrew Sean Greer

Pulitzer prize winning book about a novelist who receives an invitation to his ex boyfriend's wedding and is heartbroken so, suddenly, he finds himself coping by going on a world tour. It's funny and sweet and has a happy ending.

#OPEN WATER should have been n.1 in this list cause it doesn't get much more romantic than that #books #book recommendations #book recs #what if i tag #dark academia #just for the notes #bookblr #booksblr #young mungo #tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow #the song of achilles #last night at the telegraph club #swimming in the dark

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081314 · 1 year

Text

Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss – Chapter 1 (Episodes 6-11)

Following is my translation of episodes 6-11 from Chapter 1 of Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss.

Main storyline spoilers after the cut!!

Episode 6

Leona: Geez, do you guys ever shut up? If you wanna have your little chit-chat, go do it somewhere else. You’re ruining my nap.

Cater: Holy crap, that scared me. Leona-kun, how long have you been there??

Vil: I’m astounded, truly. Even in the middle of our orientation, you went and took up a whole row of seats just to lie down and take a nap.

Rook: One wouldn’t expect anything less from Roi des Lions. He gives off such a regal air even as he slumbers.

Vil: Hmph. Well, I think he needs an attitude adjustment. We have to complete these internships in order to graduate, so can’t you take this at least a bit more seriously?

Leona: I already turned in my application.

Everyone: What..?

Trey: How is that even possible!? They just handed out our paperwork a little while ago…

Leona: I looked over everything while Crowley was up there blabbering and just applied online. We’re talking about our super duper important internships here, so there’s no way I was gonna just sit around twiddlin’ my fingers. Ya’ll know me, I’m a real hardworking guy. I’m always gettin’ things done early.

Trey: Still, you were able to choose a location in the blink of an eye. Did you already have one in mind?

Leona: More or less.

Cater: Can I ask where you applied at?

Leona: Sure. It’s a lab run by a mining and energy company over in Sunset Savannah.

Rook: My, I hadn’t known you were interested in geology.

Vil: People do often say that Sunset Savanah contains a massive amount of natural resources underneath its grasslands. Makes sense.

Cater: Oh, yeah. Leona-kun’s the prince of Sunset Savannah, right? That’s really great you’re wanting to give back to your homeland like that.

Leona: Nah, you got it backwards.

Cater: Huh? Wait, you don’t mean…

Leona: Even if I slack off the whole time, ain’t no way a Sunset Savannah company’d dare give a member of the royal family a failing grade on his internship. Honestly, “Second prince” is a real lousy title and doesn’t really come in handy most of the time, but there ya go. I’m gonna be making sure my homeland gives back to me as muuuch as possible. Ah hah hah ha!

Cater: Whaaaat?!

Leona: Okay, I spilled the beans, so could ya buzz off already? *Yaaawn*

(Leona lies down and goes back to sleep)

Cater: No way, dude…that’s not fair!

Trey: Leona might not have sounded very serious just now, but the type of place he was talking about only allows a very limited number of students to apply for internships there. And only ones with top grades, at that.

Cater: So basically, everything he said doesn’t apply to us… Ahh, talking to him wasn’t much of a help on our end, huh. Ah ha haaa…

Vil: Is Leona cursed or something? Is someone forcing him to always boast about all his faults?

Rook: Heh. Even that side of Roi des Lions is very much like him.

Chapter 7

Cater: Uhh, another person we could probably talk to would be…

Rook: Oh, my! Is that Roi de Ta Chambre I see over there?

Idia: E-eep!! M-my bad, I should go find somewhere else to sit….

Cater: It’s rare for you to show up to class in person. Where’s Ortho-chan?

Idia: Ah, he’s… umm…m-my little brother is…

(Idia pulls out his tablet and starts talking through it instead)

Idia: Since he’s officially enrolled as a 1st year student now, he’s not allowed to come with me to class anymore unless it’s, like, a special multigrade class.

Trey: Now that you mention it, there’s been quite the hubbub amongst our 1st years lately. They’ve all been talking about their new humanoid classmate.

Idia: Ah, yeah…. Okay, so we got a bunch of Pomefiore and Heartslabyul cheerful characters here. Mind telling me what you guys want?

Rook: We were hoping to hear about your plans for your internship. You are quite a gifted and renown engineer, after all! I’m certain you’ve set your sights on an engineering institute, no?

Idia: Geez….that’s private info, dude! You can’t just walk up to somebody and start asking about their hopes and dreams like that.

Trey: Ah, we aren’t trying to force anything out of you. I hope you're not mad.

Idia (whispering to himself): Then don’t come talk to me in the first place!!

Idia: Ugh, there wasn’t even any point in me coming here today. What a waste of time. But the principal was all like, “Just because you’ve already received a tentative offer from your internship location, I’m not going to give you special treatment and let you skip the orientation.”

Cater: Huh, tentative offer?!

Trey: So there was someone even further ahead in the game than Leona…

Idia: After I gave my research presentation at the culture festival, a bunch of companies reached out to me saying they wanted me to do my internship with them. I was planning on turning them all down, but then I noticed one of them was NRC’s business partner, so I decided to take up their offer. Not much else to it than that, really.

Vil: I can’t say I have a problem with it, seeing as the company was the one that reached out to you. So, who was it then? It wasn’t… S.T.Y.X., was it?

Idia: No way. My folks told me not to come back home for a while, anyways. The Island of Grief is already back to normal after that incident I caused, but we’re still getting a lot of outside pressure to take responsibility for what happened. My dad is, I mean.

Cater: Oh, that’s right. When those S.T.Y.X. guys showed up at NRC, all the pictures and videos people were taking of them went trending on Magicam.

Idia: Even though a small glimpse of our operations got leaked, nothing’s changed the fact that S.T.Y.X. is still just some “mysterious institution” to most people. And that’s exactly why mass media has been going nuts to figure out who we are. Are we a benevolent institution that works to protect the world from behind the scenes, or a nefarious group that carries out seedy experiments and threatens to disrupt the peace? Everyone’s just saying whatever they want at this point... Those media guys have way too much free time on their hands. I mean, don’t they have, like, more important things to report on?

Trey: Whenever something is kept a secret, it just makes people want to find out what it is even more. It’s just one of the bad parts about human nature, sadly.

Idia: That’s why my folks thought it’d be best to have me come back here. Since the school’s on a remote island and outsiders can’t come here except for special occasions, it’s just the right place to hide away the true culprit behind this whole mess…so basically they just wanted to get rid of the nuisance.

Rook: Heh heh. Well, I find that just shows how much your parents love you.

Idia: I dunno about that. They totally blew a gasket after they got back home. I haven’t seen them get that mad at me since the time I was 8 and outfitted our old vacuum cleaner robot with a magical beam cannon and turned it into a tracking drone, and it went scorched earth in the living room… I mean, I’m really thankful they agreed to let Ortho enroll in school here and all, but…

Trey: Pfft! So you’ve had your parents go off on you like that before, too.

Idia: Huh? What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I have. They’ve also gone and hid my console's power cables after they said I was playing video games for way too long…

Cater: Seriously? That’s hilarious. It sounds like your family’s actually pretty easy to get along with.

Idia: The heck? You guys can’t be serious… My family’s about as approachable as a brick wall.

Vil: But weren’t they fine with letting Ortho enroll here? And aren’t they also supporting your internship decisions, too?

Idia: Yeah, I guess so. But they did stop me from choosing a place in the hospitality industry ‘cause they said I wasn’t cut out for it, so…

Vil: That’s a completely different story. They were just telling you that for your own good. Regardless, what was the company you ended up taking the internship offer at?

Idia: ……Olympus Inc.

Everyone: WHAT!??

Trey: Isn’t Olympus the search engine development company that makes the number one computer operating system in the world?!

Cater: That’s, like, the hardest company ever to get a job at!

Idia: Y-yeah. I’ll be working as a software engineer at their headquarters in the Kingdom of Heroes.

Cater: Oh my gosh, that’s insane!! I bet the employee café they have at their office is super stylish, yeah? I’m so jealous!

Idia: Uh, I’ve never been there before so no clue… Wait, I wouldn’t even go to a café anyways…

Cater: Maaan, everyone’s got such amazing plans. Gotta say, I’m kinda starting to lose confidence here…

Chapter 8

Lilia: What’s wrong, Cater? Why’re you sitting there looking all glum with your head on your desk?

Cater: Ah, it’s Lilia-Chan and Malleus-Kun.

Trey: We’re trying to pick our internship locations and decided to go around and ask everyone what they’ve got planned.

Lilia: I see, I see. Cater…. How many times have I told you? If you go around gathering as much information as possible, that can make it even harder for you to make a decision. Sometimes, you just have to be decisive about these things! For something like an internship, you could just jot down some company names on a few slips of paper and pull one out of a hat.

Cater: Umm, I think that’s, like, too decisive?

Lilia: You’re still so young, Cater. There’s no need for you to be mulling over all of this so much.

Vil: So, have you two already made your decisions, then?

Malleus: Not yet. To be honest, all of these internship locations look the same to me.

Trey: What do you mean?

Malleus: Well, one season only lasts a mere three months, and I don’t see how we are to gleam anything meaningful during our time there. It'll be over in a moment.

Idia: Hello? An anime cour lasts three months. Watching a really awesome one can change your life forever, dude.

Lilia: Idia’s right. Anyways, this is your one and only chance to attend school and go out into the world as a student, Malleus. I’ve no doubt it will be a wonderful experience for you, so please, make the most of it.

Malleus: I understand. …Hmm, they’ve got some archeological survey locations on here. That does sound a bit interesting. What are you planning to choose for your internship, Lilia?

Lilia: Me? I’m…I’m not choosing any of these.

Cater: Huh?

Trey: Oh, do you mean you’ve already picked one?

Lilia: No….. I’m dropping out of school.

Everyone (Except Malleus): WHAAAAAAAAT!??

Malleus: ………..what?

Episode 9

Epel/Ortho/Jack: Mickey?

Jack: Who’s that?

Grim: Some dude that keeps showing up in the mirror in our bedroom at nighttime. But Yuu’s the only one who can see him. I looked at the mirror one time and didn’t see a darn thing!

Deuce: Oh, yeah. With the culture festival and the whole mess with S.T.Y.X., I’d completely forgotten all about that stuff with Mickey.

Ace: I think we were saying maybe you could try and take a picture of him with the ghost camera, right? Were you able to take one?

(Yuu nods and shows everyone the picture of Mickey)

Ace: So, uhhh…this is Mickey? He doesn’t…look like a beastman. Maybe he’s a monster like Grim?

Deuce: I wasn’t expecting him to look so… charming.

Epel: Yeah. If something like that popped up in my mirror in the middle of the night, I don’t think it’d be all that scary… maybe.

Grim: His ears are even bigger than mine!

Jack: I bet he’s able to pick up sounds from far away.

Ortho: I went ahead and ran a query across some databases of Twisted Wonderland’s known terrestrial species, but I wasn’t able to get a hit based on his silhouette. The databases I’m able to access do not totally cover all fairies and magical beasts, however. Hmmm…. It’s certainly very intriguing, isn’t it?

Ace: The fact that Yuu was able to get a picture of him at all means he really wasn’t just dreaming him up this whole time, I guess.

Deuce: So Grim can’t see this Mickey guy, but he shows up on pictures taken with the Ghost Camera…..

Jack: Prefect, you got any other info on him?

Yuu: Yeah, Mickey’s got some living playing cards and dancing mittens in his room…

Episode 10

Ortho: I see. So if we compile together all the information that Yuu has provided, we’ve learned the following: First, Mickey does not reside in Twisted Wonderland. Second, time passes in Mickey’s world, too. And third, the only time Yuu is able to communicate with him is when Mickey is asleep…This is only my conjecture, but I suspect that Yuu’s mirror might be acting like a dental crown.

Everyone: A dental crown?

Ortho: Ah, my apologies. I’ve gotten a little bit ahead of myself…. Umm, have you guys ever heard of crystal radios before?

Jack: Yeah, we made one before in class when I was in elementary school. It’s a radio receiver that’s just made out of some wire and a piece of crystal. I remember being real surprised as a kid, ‘cause it doesn’t use any batteries or anything, but we were able to listen to music and news broadcasts and stuff with it.

Ortho: Yes, that’s the one! With a crystal radio, as long as the right conditions are met, you can tune it to a specific frequency and pick up surrounding radio waves from the air. In very rare cases, silver dental crowns can meet those very same conditions and will accidently start picking up radio waves, as well.

Epel: Really!? That’s crazy.

Ortho: There’s a number of different parameters that come into play like the size of the crown, how much saliva you have in your mouth, and whether there are any buildings or radio towers in your proximity. With a crystal radio, you meet those conditions I was mentioning before intentionally. But with a dental crown, it’s all by accident. Long ago, people weren’t aware of the receptive nature of dental crowns, and it was a major shock when music would suddenly start playing from their mouths! Apparently, they thought it was the work of a ghost or something.

Ortho: And now, getting back to our main topic at hand…. In Twisted Wonderland, we have numerous forms of magical travel, radio communications, and other such things. I’m sure you all are aware of that already. Now, have you guys ever heard of a Viewglass before?

Epel: I think we learned about it the other day in our history of magic class?

Deuce: There should be a picture of it in our textbooks…. Ah, here it is.

Deuce (reading aloud from the textbook): “In the folklore of the Shaftlands, mention is oft made of an enchanted mirror - one that permits it's beholder to peer at anything from their loved ones, to fearsome beasts that reside deep in the woods. Pictured here is a magical device that was created based off the legends of this enchanted mirror. It is called a Viewglass, and it allows the user to communicate with other people over vast distances.”

Deuce: Trein Sensei said this would be on our test, so I made sure to bookmark the page.

Ortho: Just like with that device there, there's plenty of other magical forms of communication and transportation that make use of mirrors, crystals, or water. Because of that, it made me think there’s a high possibility that Yuu’s mirror just so happened to meet the right conditions and was able to establish a connection with Mickey somehow.

Ace: I think you might be on the right track there, Ortho. If you think about it, the Mirror of Darkness also summoned Yuu into our world on accident, too… Wait a second, does that mean…

Ortho: Mickey exists in a world separate from our own, and Yuu also came from another world. So if we’re able to determine a method that can allow us to form a secure connection with Mickey, that could help us find a way to get Yuu back home!

Yuu: !!!!!

Ortho: We’ve got a really good chance here. Do you guys wanna do an investigation together?

Episode 11

Grim: An investigation?

Ortho: We’re a group comprised of a magical beast, a visitor from another world, a humanoid, humans, and a beastman. We’re like a bunch of different variables, so to speak. And that means if we each go and try to get Micky to appear, we’ll be able to verify if our hypothesis is correct by changing around the variables. That’s why I think that if we work together, it’ll be perfect for trying to uncover the “right conditions” to establish a connection with Mickey!

Deuce: Honestly, I think you’ve got a point there.

Ortho: My big brother is always saying that systematic isolation is important if you want to reliably reproduce a phenomenon. If we all take turns spending the night at Ramshackle Dorm, we’ll be able to gradually increase our chances of reproducing the connection with Mickey.

Ace: Sweet!

Deuce: Great idea, Ortho! If there’s any chance we can find a way to help Yuu get back home, then we gotta take it!

Grim: Ortho’s way more reliable than that lousy principal! All he’s done so far to “help” is just pretend to investigate and go on vacation!!

Epel: I’ll join in, too! …Ahh, but that means I’ll have to think of what to say to our warden so he’ll let me stay over at your guys’ place…

Ace: Dude, just tell him you’re going to a group study session or whatever. Okay, so who’s going on what day?

Jack: Oi, I never said I was gonna help you guys.

Ace: Whaaaat. You’re so cold, Jack-kun. We might be able to find a way to help Yuu get back to his home, man. You really don’t wanna help?

Jack: I-it’s not that, I just… I go to bed pretty early at night so I can wake up in time for my early morning training. There’s no way I can stay up late enough waiting for Mickey to appear.

Grim: You can go to bed early if ya wanna. Yuu will be sure to yell nice and loud at ya so you wake up in time.

Ortho: Great, then that settles it! Jack, you’ll take weekends, since you won’t have to worry about waking up early for your training.

Jack: Oi, you listen here! Don’t just go deciding things on your own. My training doesn’t take holidays!

Epel: Heh heh. Ortho-kun, you’re surprisingly kinda pushy… I guess?

Ortho: Aaah, I wish we could have someone of the fairy race join our investigation… Yuu, do you have such an acquaintance?

(Yuu thinks of Malleus)

Yuu (internally): I wonder if Tsunotaro would help?

Sebek: I ABOSOLUTELY OBJECT TO THAT!!!

Everyone: H-huh!?

Jack: The heck was that? Sounds like a commotion over there.

(They look around and spot the source of all the noise)

Ace: Ah, I know that guy. He’s in my analysis of magic elective class. His name is...

Episodes 1-5

Episodes 12-15

Episodes 16-19

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