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#and by all means she should want to BURN THE WORLD DOWN for what it did to her like it would be within her RIGHT
tenderesthands · 2 years
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i cant think about the way laudna sees herself for more than 5 seconds without going insane. like "i have a crazy woman in my head who likes to tell me what to do. thats really not that dissimilar to, you know, being programmed" + "fcg have you ever thought that maybe you are like me? you were once alive and now... you are in a puppet?" + "i can understand the feeling of a false sense of security and power from an ungodly source. that doesn't... you don't have control. it does. it can be intoxicating, borrowing from a power beyond you. just be careful of the moments that you can no longer separate yourself from it." like ARGHHHH SHAKES CRIES THROW UP.
the way she absolutely isn't able to see herself as a Real Person in the same way that she sees everyone else as a Person. and the way that she relates to fcg the most because she too sees herself as part of a tired old machine! with delilah as her creator! because she knows, she knows, that no matter what she's not really the one in control. she knows that at the end of day shes just a puppet, a means to an end, a disposable machine.
or at least this is what she believes in. and i mean can you BLAME her for not being able to see herself as An Actual Person when her entire life, her youth, has been robbed from her in the absolute most violent, horrifying way imaginable. when her very image has been so heavily brutalized and dehumanized, both in death and in the years after.
like. of course she does not see herself as entirely human. what human being could possibly endure what she has? what human soul could carry that kind of violence and still remain intact? (certainly it would shatter)
no wonder she minimizes everything that has happened to her. no wonder she buries it down by saying that she feels like it happened a very long time ago. to another person. in another life. no wonder she wants to separate her present self from her past self because, again, what human could go through what she has gone through and remain sane?
and how can she even trust herself to try and be human again when she isn't even allowed to be in control of her own mind, her own body. when she knows that at any moment the evil woman inside her head can just take over her body whenever she feels like it and do whatever she wants with it.
she has to be a machine, or a puppet, but she can't be a person. no, she isn't human. she can't be human. because no human could ever live like this.
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earthtooz · 4 months
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x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+゚
in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.
warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.
a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!
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“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.
“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 
“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.
“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”
Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is he your boyfriend?”
“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”
“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”
You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.
“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”
“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”
Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 
Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.
“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”
“Really?”
“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”
She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.
“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”
“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”
“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”
“Will he fly away too?”
“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”
She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.
“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”
Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.
“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”
“Oh? What’d she say?”
Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.
“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”
“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”
“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”
His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.
“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”
Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.
“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”
“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”
“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“
“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”
“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”
“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 
He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 
Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.
“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 
Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 
You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.
Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”
“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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erwinsvow · 24 days
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drunk rafe nd shy!reader talking when he starts telling her all about his dark twisted plans of marrying her and getting her pregnant, that she’s going to be his forever. <3
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"you need to sleep, rafey," you hum, trying to keep your boyfriend upright while you get him inside tannyhill.
topper had been sweet enough to drop the two of you off before heading home, knowing that you would have trouble driving rafe's truck. you had to remember to thank him tomorrow, maybe bake him some brownies, since you remembered those were his favorite last time you made them.
"wha' i need is you-" he slurs back, and you giggle. rafe never gets drunk like this, and he's usually always composed. the extra shots at the end did him in—the boys were celebrating something that didn't make much sense to you.
"what you need is an advil and some water. and greasy food tomorrow morning, don't worry, i'll make some for you."
"i know y'will." you try to sneak in, remaining as quiet as you can while you guide rafe up the stairs. you're sure everyone's asleep and though rafe's family seemed to really like you, you don't want to make a bad impression. rafe's being loud, and you pray no one wakes up while you get him into his bedroom.
finally finishing the journey up the staircase, rafe gets on his bed, struggling to untie his laces. you can't help your smile, the laugh spilling out. you never get to see him like this.
you hurry over, dropping down and taking the laces into your hands, untying them quickly. rafe kicks off his shoes and sits up on the bed, opening his arms to you. you know you should go and find the bottle of advil, but you can't resist, crawling into his lap and steadying yourself by holding onto his arms. he looks right into your eyes, something that always makes your face burn.
"you're a real good girl, y'know that?" rafe says, words a little less slurred. you smile and nod gently, at a loss for words. rafe's hand comes up to touch your jawline, holding you there a little tightly, but not painful at all. "really. mean it. you're so perfect."
"rafe-" you protest quietly, entire body flushing with a wave of heat. you're used to all kinds of praise for him, it's really commonplace for the two of you, but this feels different—feels more intimate, maybe because you know he's in the state of mind that makes you say everything you're thinking.
"no, i mean it. you're perfect for me. you always listen, always do what i say. how'd you get like that, hm?"
"i don't know," you mumble. he's drunk, so you think he won't remember. "you bring it out in me."
"good. you're so good." you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, eyes shutting while you inhale his scent. "m'gonna marry you as soon as i fuckin' can." your eyes shoot open, a laugh bubbling to the surface.
"rafe-"
"no, really. maybe i should knock you up now, make sure no one gives us any problems."
you pick your head up, looking back at your boyfriend. he seems to be in his own world, lost in his thoughts.
"that sounds good. knock you up and then marry you, and then it'll jus' be me you and the kids forever. that's right. perfect. gotta get on that." you listen with wide eyes and parted lips. even in his drunken state, he wonders if he scared you this time.
"promise?"
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kingkatsuki · 8 months
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— baby fever
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Bakugou sees you cradling Kirishima’s newborn in your arms, and thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to have a baby of your own.
Warnings: 18+, not proofread, breeding, unprotected sex, public sex, car sex, dirty talk, one use of the word daddy, creampie.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 2.1k.
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“Come and hold him, Kats.” You tried to beckon your husband in from the kitchen, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
Kirishima’s newborn was bundled in your arms as you sat on his living room couch. It was your first visit since being in the hospital for the birth, noticing the soft glow his wife had as she sat beside you. A warm mug of tea in her hands as you looked down at the baby with awe and adoration.
“Maybe later,” Bakugou replied from his position as he gave you a small smile.
Despite the years you’d spent with Bakugou, you’d never really discussed kids. Perfectly content with the life you’d created together. But as your friends grew older, they began to settle down in to happy families and it had you longing for a family of your own with your partner.
Lingering in the doorway of the kitchen gave Bakugou the perfect view of you on the couch cradling Kirishima’s newborn. The small bundle looked tiny compared to you, stroking your knuckle against a soft cheek as you cooed down at the baby.
“So when’s it your turn, bro?” Kirishima grinned at his best friend as he handed him a beer from the fridge, breaking Bakugou out of his stupor as he twisted the cap off the bottle.
“Nah,” He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, “We ain’t discussed kids.”
“Maybe you should, man,” Kirishima nodded towards you, “It suits her.”
His best friend was right. There was almost an ethereal glow radiating from you as he watched you across the room. Picturing how you’d look cradling a bundle of joy of your own, a child that you’d both created together. Thinking about how pretty you’d look all round and plump with his child as you brought a new life into the world.
Bakugou felt like a pervert as the thought had his cock stirring between his thighs. The thought of watching your body grow because of him had a desperate ache of desire burning molten lava inside him, claiming you as his and showing everyone once and for all who you belonged to.
“Talk to her about it, man.” Kirishima clinked his beer bottle against Bakugou’s with a grin, “You never know.”
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“Are you okay?” You hummed, taking his hand in your own as you walked back to the car, “You hardly said a word in there. I know you don’t like kids, but—”
“Is that what you think?” Bakugou turned to face you.
“I mean you’ve never mentioned them before,” You smiled softly, “I know you love the little fans that adore Dynamight but we’ve never really talked about kids ourselves have we?”
“Would it be so bad?” Bakugou chewed on his bottom lip, his hand tightening around yours.
“What?” You tilted your head in confusion.
“If we had kids, would it be so bad?” Bakugou mumbled, “I could give up more missions and patrols, work from home. My sidekicks can handle a lot of shit if I’m out more often—”
“Katsuki,” You grinned, reaching your arms up to wrap around his broad shoulders as you cut him off, “I’d love to have kids with you.”
Bakugou placed his hands on your hips, fingertips digging into the soft skin as he held you close. Pressing you against the front door of his car as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips, “You know you’d look so fuckin’ hot carrying our child.”
“Yeah?” You teased, playing with the buzzed hair at the back of his neck, “What’s brought all this on?”
“Seeing you with Kiri’s kid? The little baby in your arms— you’d make such a good mother, and I want to experience that with you.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while actually,” You smiled, leaning up to press a glossy kiss to his jaw, “You’d be such an amazing dad, Katsuki. Kids adore you.”
“Tch, you been thinkin’ about it and didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams or your career,” You shook your head, “Being with you is enough, we have such a good life- but I’d love to have kids with you.”
“Kids plural?” Bakugou grinned, nosing your cheek, “We better get started then, huh?”
“What, right now?” You laughed, “You better drive fast then.”
“Who said anything about drivin’?” Bakugou shook his head as he rut his hips forward, feeling the bulge in his jeans press against your tummy as you gasped in surprise.
“Katsuki—”
“What?” He scoffed, “It ain’t my fuckin’ fault you’d make such a hot mama.”
Bakugou opened the back door of his car as he walked you towards the seat, “Wait— here?”
“It was either here, or Kiri’s bathroom and we both know you can’t keep quiet for shit,” Bakugou grins,
“That’s not my fault,” You squealed as he pushed you down onto the seat, closing the door behind him as he clambered on top of you.
“I can’t wait any longer,” Bakugou groaned, already unbuckling his belt as he let it hang loose through the loops in his jeans, “I gotta fuck a baby into you, sweetheart.”
“What if someone sees—” You were cut off with Bakugou’s lips against yours in a hot and heavy kiss, his palms groping your chest as he pressed his bulge against you. Feeling the hardness graze your clit only separated by thin layers of fabric.
“Let them watch me stuff you full of cum,” He groaned.
You could feel his desperation as he bunched your skirt up around your hips, pawing at the hem of your panties as he pulled them down your thighs. Using them to push your legs up as he pinned them to your chest, your pretty heels still buckled against your feet as he positioned himself between your plush thighs.
“Oh fuck, Katsuki.” You groaned, feeling him lean his body weight against you as he fisted his cock. Guiding the leaky tip between your messy folds as he blindly searched for your tight entrance.
“I’ll make you cum on my tongue when we get home sweetheart, but I gotta fuckin’ have you now.”
The confines of the back of his car made it difficult to move as the tip caught against your hole before sliding along your folds to nudge your clit, repositioning himself to try again as he pushed forward with more urgency. Watching your lips part in a silent moan as he stole the air from your lungs, pressing into you inch by excruciating inch.
“Oh my god, Kats—” You scrambled to find purchase as your hands gripped his arms on either side of you, the new position had him deeper inside you as you felt every vein of his cock moulding to your slick heat.
“Want me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” He rasped, stilling inside you for a moment to adjust as he felt his balls tighten from the sensation. The pent up desire inside him almost too much as he felt you clamp down around him.
“Please,” You mewled, trying desperately to get him to move as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Bakugou choked out as he began a rough pace, his heavy balls slapping against the swell of your ass as he hunched over you.
Rough hands reaching out to massage your bouncing breasts as he pulled at your dress, pawing them in large hands as his cock twitched inside you.
“Can’t wait for these to get bigger,” He grunted, reaching beneath the fabric to pinch at your nipples, “They’re gonna have the fuckin’ life sucking those all damn day.”
“Kats.” You writhed beneath him as he kept his steady pace, crimson eyes searing into you as he gave you another chaste kiss.
“I can barely keep my hands off you as it is, imagine when you’re carrying my kid.” He groaned, his lips parted in a constant moan as he felt your walls clamp down around him at his words, “Make you all nice and round with my spunk.”
“Oh shit,” You trembled beneath him as your hands slipped under the bottom of his shirt, raking your nails along his back as he kept pistoning his hips into you.
The windows were beginning to fog as the air inside the vehicle became hot and heavy, almost suffocating as he continued his ruthless pace.
“You’d look so fuckin’ perfect carrying my child.” Bakugou rambled, feeling his cock twitch as he neared his release. The pent up desire that was building inside him ensured he wouldn’t maintain the usual stamina right now, the insatiable urge to fill you with his seed was all too much as he sought his release, “You’d be the hottest fuckin’ mama.”
“Shit,” You whined, feeling your walls begin to tremble around him as you felt yourself swiftly approaching your climax.
Bakugou could feel the way your walls were clenching around him as his hand dipped between your connected bodies, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing messy circles against your puffy clit as he felt you on the cusp of your release.
“Come on, sweetheart,” He taunted, “Cum for me so I can fill you up, yeah?”
White spots began to blank your vision as you felt your orgasm crash down on you in harsh waves, your thighs shaking as you cried out his name. Your walls clamping down around his thick cock as he worked you through your release, desperately trying to milk him of his own.
“That’s it,” He cooed, “That’s my good girl.”
“Please, Katsuki,” You mewled, your toes curling as you basked in the bliss of your climax, “I want it so bad, please cum inside me.”
“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” He groaned, “Fuck you over and over until you’re dripping with my cum?”
“Fuck—” You gasped, the sultry tone of his voice becoming far too much, “Please, daddy.”
“Oh, fuck- shit,” Bakugou gasped as the name caught him by surprise. His hips stuttering as his pace faltered, choking back a desperate groan until he was dangerously close to the edge, “You want daddy to stuff you full? Breed this little pussy until you’re round and full of my seed? So everyone knows who you belong to—”
“Oh, God. Please, Katsuki. Make me take it all, fuck—”
“You ready, sweetheart? Fuckin’ take it.” He grunted, his balls tightening as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum inside your eager cunt. Your walls clamping down around him as you milked him of his release, “Just like that, that’s it— good girl.”
You stroked your fingers through his sweaty hair as he leaned his forehead to yours to relax his breathing as you both came down from your highs. His warm lips peppering kisses against your face as your walls continued to spasm around his softening cock. Keeping you plugged full of his release for a little longer as he regained his breath.
“I hope Kiri didn’t see,” You pouted as you were thankful for the steamy windows, even if it did make your actions far more obvious, “I can’t believe we fucked outside his house.”
“Hey, inside his bathroom would’ve been worse,” Bakugou scoffed, “You’re so fuckin’ noisy.”
“That’s not my fault,” You attempted to glare at him as you furrowed your brows. Causing Bakugou to lean down and kiss you on the scrunch between your nose with a grin, “You’re the one that practically jumped me.”
“Then you shouldn’t look like such a hot mama,” Bakugou deadpanned, finally pulling out of your quivering walls as he watched strings of your combined slick break off and stick to your skin uncomfortably, “You stay there and I’ll drive us home, yeah?”
“I can’t stay like this on the drive home,” You whined when Bakugou buckled his pants with a grin, opening the back door to make his way into the drivers seat.
“Yeah you can, sweetheart,” He laughed, “It’ll take better in that position.”
You pulled your panties back up your thighs as Bakugou watched shamelessly, his crimson eyes focused on where his release was now drooling out of your quivering walls.
“I’m not letting you drive me home like this,” You pouted as you climbed out of the back seat on shaky legs, clinging to Bakugou’s arms as he helped to guide you into the passengers side. Allowing some welcome air into the steamy car as the windows began to defog, your hands already reaching for the aircon even though the car wasn’t turned on yet.
“Have it your way,” He shrugged with a cocky smirk on his face, “I’ll just fuck more into you when we get home anyway.”
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pers1st · 2 months
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kiss me, try to fix it - alexia putellas x reader
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pairing: alexia putellas x lioness!reader
warnings: mentions of cheating, angst (like you guys wanted, i hope)
notes: this is pretty much just a blurb but i do have a pt2 in mind if you guys wanted it? lmk :)
Alexia awoke to a distant noise of things being thrown and landing on the carpet of your hotel room with soft thuds.
You knew that she would have a banging headache, that she would be full nausea and regret in her stomach, but you didn't bother to be quiet as you packed your things with anger cursing through your veins.
The plan for this morning had been to mend your girlfriend's hangover. Alexia wasn't a drinker and you had been shocked when you'd first seen Ona's story, which showed Alexia happily sipping on whatever alcoholic drink. Another thing about your girlfriend, however, was that she didn't do things halfheartedly, and so you had promised her yesterday, via very confusing, drunken text messages, that the rest of the Spanish girls should get her to England's hotel so that you would be able to soothe her in the morning, hold her hair, massage her scalp - whatever she needed.
Now though, the plan had changed. When you had seen those pictures surfacing on Twitter, half asleep, of Alexia kissing Jenni during their party, you had practically jumped away from your girlfriend's sleeping body. You had looked at her for a bit, mesmerized by her beauty even when her makeup was slowly coming off, staining the white pillow, her hair disheveled and her snores far from pleasant. Then, the realization had kicked in. Alexia had cheated on you. The Alexia who was so full of love for you, who was so soft for you and no one else - the Alexia who had promised to never hurt you had cheated on you. That's when the throwing had begun.
"Amor? What are you doing?", she mumbled into her pillow, eyes barely open. You huffed. Of course, she was confused. She hadn't expected you to know. The fact that she had even had the nerves to climb into your bed and snuggle up to you after what she'd done-
This Alexia, she wasn't the Alexia you knew.
"I'm leaving", you chuckled in disbelief. She couldn't possibly be surprised at this, could she?
Despite your desperate attempts to compose yourself, tears were dwelling in your eyes. How had the woman you'd loved for so many years just... crushed your relationship in her fists? Did you mean nothing to her?
Just a few hours prior to her infidelity, she'd been on the pitch with you, comforting you as best as she could after your dream of the World Cup trophy had slipped through your fingers. She'd held you as tears washed down your face, rocked you back and forth as you'd tried to catch your breath, she had asked you to swap shirts, dressing you in the fabric she'd just won the World Cup in, just because her perfume from before the match still lingered somewhere beneath her sweat and tears, knowing that it would bring you comfort.
And then, when you had turned down her offer to come to the afterparty, wanting nothing more than to be with your fellow lionesses as you dealt with the night's loss, she had gone to kiss her best friend. She had gone to ruin your relationship - your happiness, all the while wearing your England shirt, your number, your last name on her back.
It left you wondering. Had you ever meant anything to her?
You halted in your moves for a second, desperate to blink away the tears threatening to escape. Alexia moved from the bed, rubbing her eyes in confusion, crouching down beside you. Her hand landed on your shoulder, but you shook it away as though it burned your skin through the fabric of the Spanish jersey. At the realization that you were still wearing it, you stood up, pulling yourself out of the shirt and throwing at her angrily. All the while, Alexia stood, watching you in disbelief.
"Amor, what is going on?"
"Don't call me that!", you yelled back at her, grabbing the next best shirt you could find from your almost packed suitcase and tugging it on.
"Hey, whatever it is, we can fix it!", Alexia pleaded, her hand landing on your chin as you stared at the carpet beneath you. You allowed yourself to melt into her touch just this once, wanting nothing more than to dwell in her comfort, to let her hold you once more, to hear all of her excuses and just forgive her, because that was the easy thing to do. Her other hand cupped the other side of your face, gently lifting it for you to stare into her eyes. The only emotion you could read in the soft green was love.
Slowly, she inched closer towards you until her soft lips landed on yours. The taste of alcohol lingered, along with that of toothpaste. It almost made you chuckle. Had the girls made Alexia brush her teeth last night? Just after-
When you realized whom these lips had kissed last night, you pulled away.
"Ale, what the fuck?!", you yelled, and allowed the tears to fall this once. She was making your head spin. Dumbfounded, the both of you stood staring at each other, Alexia's hands retrieving from your cheeks immediately.
"Amor, what is going on?"
You barely noticed the way that Alexia actually didn't have a clue of what you were on about, to blinded by fury to realize her confused expression, her genuine worry, the fact that there wasn't a trace of guilt.
"Don't call me that!", you yelled once more, but it came out as more of a plea. You weren't one to beg in arguments, but you knew that if she kept this facade up, if she kept this close to you, if she kept telling you how the two of you could fix this, you would actually believe her, melt into her touch, do whatever she asked of you. You would take the easy route, because it meant staying with Alexia. Staying with the woman you loved more than yourself. But you couldn't. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you deserved better.
So, you packed your last things together, not bothering to pack the jersey of your first tournament final as England captain, knowing Alexia had stained it with infidelity, possibly the only mark your washing machine couldn't ever get rid of, and left her there- confused, hurt, possibly angered at your lack of explanation. But it didn't matter to you. It was early still, but you banged the door closed, only to find Lucy standing in the hallway.
"What's all this yelling about?", she mumbled, still dressed in her pajamas. When she noticed your packed luggage and the pained expression on your face, her expression changed from annoyed to-
Pity.
That was all it took for you to break down in her arms.
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woso-dreamzzz · 28 days
Text
Treat You Better III
Laia Codina x Reader
Summary: You visit Spain
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The language barrier posed a bit of a problem but you could get past that.
The food posed a bit of a problem but you could get past that too.
What you couldn't get past was the topless sunbathing.
You weren't prudish by any means. But you were Irish and the beaches you usually went to in Ireland were full of pebbles. You didn't sunbathe in Ireland. You just hoped that you didn't get taken out by a wave.
Spanish beaches were different though. They were sandy and the sea was calm and all of Laia's friends were stripping off their bikini tops and lying out in the sun.
Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at how easily everyone did it. You hadn't experienced much cultural issues moving from Ireland to England but now you were getting the experience that Laia did.
Moving from Spain to England was a big thing, full of cultural differences that she had to adapt too. Now you're doing the same.
You didn't know the rules surrounding this so you just decided to avert your eyes and pretend that it wasn't happening.
You sat under an umbrella and contemplated whether it was rude to just duck into a shop and stay there until everyone was ready to go.
"You aren't sunbathing?"
"I'm Irish, luv," You say," I don't tan well. I burn."
"Katie tans."
"Yeah, she got lucky. I didn't."
Laia wiggles under the umbrella with you. She's shirtless just like her friends but you don't feel awkward looking at her. You've seen her naked countless times. Seeing her topless seems a little tame in comparison.
Seeing her friends and other world class footballers shirtless was a little different.
"You don't tan at all?" She pouts at you," I could have sworn you did in Australia."
"You were watching me back then?" You laugh," You little stalker."
Her cheeks turn pink. "I thought you were very pretty. It is a shame you won't try to tan here."
"I'll burn," You insist," And we'll go back to London and Katie will tease me. I'm not attempting it."
"But you tan! I know you do! I've seen it!"
"It's too much effort," You say nonchalantly," I'm happy here. I might go and buy an ice cream. I'm fine, luv."
She looks at you suspiciously, her pout getting bigger and bigger the more you attempt to get away.
"Leave her alone, Codi!" You hear someone yell, Mariona you think.
"I'm just wearing her down!" Laia yells back with a teasing smile," Don't ruin this for me!"
"Ruin this for you?" You echo," I see how it is. You want to see me topless."
She tries to deny it but her stuttered words betray her true attention.
"You're cute, luv, but no, I'm not stripping in front of your friends."
"Why not? You're not insecure are you?" Her words come out in a stream, interspersed with random kisses pressed to your face. "Because you're so beautiful and you're stunning and I think you're so much prettier than all of my friends and you shouldn't feel insecure about something like this."
"Laia-"
"Because you have nothing to feel insecure about. And I love you and-"
"Laia-"
"You should never feel bad about your body and-"
"Laia! Luv, shut up. I'm not insecure. I know I have a good body but...These are your friends and they're topless."
Laia frowns. "I don't understand."
You laugh. "It'd be like if we went to the beach with Katie and Caitlin and they whipped their tops off. You would feel a little awkward, wouldn't you?"
You can see Laia think it over for a moment. She turns it over in her mind. You can see the moment she imagines Katie topless because her eyes suddenly squeeze shut.
"I see," She admits," But you promise you do not feel insecure?"
"I promise," You say, laying a kiss on her lips," Just feeling a little awkward. I'm sure after a few more trips I'll feel more comfortable."
She beams. "You want to come back?"
You roll your eyes. "Yes, Laia. This is your home. These are your friends. Of course, I want to come back."
She attacks you with kisses, pinning you against your beach towel.
"Codi!" One of her friends call," Stop kissing your girlfriend! I want to go paddle boarding!"
"Go, luv," You laugh, pushing her away," We have lots of time later."
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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {4}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A single photo puts half of the truth out into the world. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fingering, swearing WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five
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Round Nineteen - Mexico 2022 You woke to a delicious smell and felt the strains of the free practices deep in your bones and every muscle protested the movements needed to get out of bed. Giving up, you laid there for a minute more, mentally preparing for the final free practice and qualifying race, before tossing the blankets back. 
You probably looked like a zombie the way you stumbled your way bleary eyed through the hotel suite to find Charles cooking breakfast. 
“Good morning, baby.” Lando grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into his lap while he waited patiently at the table.
“Just morning,” you grumbled with a yawn. “Nothing is good before noon.”
“I can think of one thing,” he teased as his fingertips traced the curve of your leg.
“Feeling a little tender, chérie?” Charles asked with a kiss to your forehead as he placed two plates on the table. “We can give you a massage after breakfast. Bon appétit.”
“Okay, maybe there’s a few good things in the morning,” you conceded before opening your mouth for the forkful of food Lando offered. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
“Sorry, love, Zak’s invited me and Danny to a charity event,” Lando apologised with a pout. “I’m sure Charles can take care of you all on his lonesome.”
“Of course,” Charles said with a soft smile, “but I’d rather you be with us.”
You shifted on his lap to face him and kissed your way along his jaw to his lips. “Me too.”
“Me three,” he murmured when you pulled back to finish eating.
As promised, after breakfast you found yourself lying face down on the bed with massage oil drizzled over your skin. Heavenly moans filled the pillow your face was buried in as the two of them found every knot in your muscles and eased them away with their strong hands. 
“I hope you don’t make sounds like that for Kristian,” Lando teased. He had given up helping Charles working his way along your body and instead parted your legs to focus his touch on one particular place. 
“Can’t say he’s ever fingered me,” you said before laughing at the soft spank he responded with. “Yet.” Heat burned across your ass at the smack he dealt and your yelp turned to a moan as he soothed the sensitive skin with his palm before kissing it softly. 
“I think our Lando is a little possessive of you, chérie.”
You squirmed on the mattress as his fingers worked their way back into you to find your cunt soaked for him. “I like it.”
“I’m not possessive, I just don’t want to share with you anyone else.”
You lifted your head from the pillow and found Charles’ lips pressed lightly as he tried not to laugh but the amusement was thick in his voice, “That’s what possessive means, mon cher.”
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You felt sorry for Charles as he was given a three-place grid penalty for something that wasn’t entirely his own fault. It was easy for the stewards to say he could have used his wing mirrors to see George coming up behind him on his flying lap but the window of view was so small that the stars had to align to actually see anything and react in time. 
His engineer should have warned him.
The urge to go to Ferrari and find him almost won but Max called out before you could leave the garage. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”
“Uh, yeah, I do,” you said as you scratched the nape of your neck nervously, something that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Is it a date?” You hated how intense his scrutiny was and his eyes narrowed the longer the question went unanswered. 
“Does it matter?”
“You’re dodging the question, zusje.” Max crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder. “Who is he?”
“Who’s who?” Your mood turned sour as you heard Jos’ voice behind you. “Are you coming to dinner?”
Max shook his head. “She’s going on a date.”
“And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t choose to spend my evening with you,” you said as you turned to face your father. 
“You have a boyfriend?” Jos asked with a tick in his jaw. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
“Let’s list off the reasons. 1) it’s none of your fucking business, 2) it’s none of your fucking business, 3) it’s none of your-”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Max growled as he dropped his arm over your shoulder and turned you away. “We’ll talk about this later, go calm down somewhere.”
You stormed out of the garage without a goodbye and straight into Ferrari’s next door, ignoring the looks they gave you as you climbed the stairs to where the driver’s rooms were. 
Carlos had just opened his door as you were passing it and he looked a little dishevelled and disappointed as he sighed to himself, and you could only imagine how much worse Charles was feeling. “Tough quali for you guys,” you said as you caught his attention and accepted the hug he offered. “How’s he doing?”
“Pissed off. Xavi is probably hiding in a hole somewhere by now. I would if I were him,” he huffed a humourless laugh. “It’s good that you're going out to dinner, I don’t think he would leave his room otherwise.”
“That’s what friends are for.” You gave Carlos a little wave as he went on his way before you knocked on Charles' door. “Hey, it’s me.”
The door opened before you had even finished speaking and you slipped inside quietly as you saw the sullen look on his face. Needing to comfort him, you caught the door with your shoe and kicked it shut so you could cup his face in your hands and pull him into a kiss. 
“I forgo-” You froze against Charles as the door swung open and Carlos filled the doorway, his jaw slack as he stared wide-eyed. “What the fuck, mate,” he hissed quietly as he stepped inside and closed the door shut. “You know Max is going to kill you, right?”
“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Charles muttered as he stepped back and took your hand instead. “What did you forget?”
“Huh? Shit, I forgot.” Carlos frowned and looked back at the door. “So…Just friends, ay?”
“Not just friends,” you chuckled, squeezing Charles’ hand. “But not ready to go public just yet.”
“Because of Max?”
“Because of Lando,” Charles admitted. 
“Ohhhh, because he’s been in love with her forever and you got the girl,” Carlos nodded to himself as he spoke only to stop when you laughed. 
“Because we are dating Lando too, and it will be a PR nightmare to explain.” You laughed as Carlos’ mouth dropped open and he pointed between the two of you. “Me, Charles and Lando, yes.”
“Woooow,” he laughed as he recovered and shook his head once more. “Max is 100% going to kill the both of you. Nice knowing you, mi amigo.”
“Thanks for your support, mate,” Charles drawled sarcastically and reached for his keys. “Let’s go, amour.”
“Can I just ask…” Carlos leaned back against the door so Charles couldn’t reach the handle. Crossing his arms, Charles rolled his eyes and waited impatiently for the question. “Does she top you like in the driver standings?”
“First Pierre, now you, putain de merde,” Charles sighed and pushed Carlos out of the way as he laughed. 
But then the laughter dried up and he turned to you offended at the news. “Pierre knew before me?”
“Since Suzuka,” Charles said with a smirk knowing it would irk him more.
Carlos reeled back and his eyes widened. “What the fuck, and that pendejo didn’t tell me. How long have you been together?”
“Just before Monza.”
“Before Mon…Monza! Ay!” Carlos dragged a hand down his face. “I thought we were friends, and Lando too? That guy has never kept a secret in his life.”
You looked at Charles with a giggle. “So dramatic, is he always like this?”
“Mhmm, try being teammates with him,” Charles replied with a roll of his eyes. “He just needs time to process, and I want to get out of this place before I cross paths with Xavi.”
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“Kristian would have a coronary if he saw this. I’m so full but it’s too good to waste.” The Italian restaurant Charles had found in the centre of Mexico City was beautiful but the menu was definitely not suited to your pre-race diet. “Is this your plan to slow me down tomorrow?”
Charles stroked your hand beneath the table. He had managed to get the reservation for a secluded corner booth hidden behind a thin thatch privacy wall, but you still tried to remember to be careful. “Nothing can slow you down, amour.”
“Not even the metaphorical baggage I carry around?” 
“What?” Charles choked on a laugh and had to take a drink of water to stop coughing.
“Something Lando said a while ago.” You chuckled at the memory as you twirled more creamy fettuccine around your fork. “Apparently I have daddy issues, along with his temper.”
“You’re nothing like Jos.” Charles shook his head adamantly. “Back in karting my family would come and cheer me on and I remember when Max came anything less than first place, Jos wouldn’t even clap for him. He didn’t want anything to do with him unless he was on the top of the podiums.”
“I know what an asshole my father is, you don’t need to convince me,” you muttered quietly, feeling sorry for Max’s upbringing that was vastly different to yours.
“I’ve watched you cheer for Max from the pits when you’ve had to retire early. I’ve seen how concerned you get when he’s in a crash,” he said, bringing your attention back to the present. “You’re nothing like Jos.”
Unable to articulate how grateful you were to hear those words, you instead chose an action. Charles froze with surprise for a moment when you kissed him before instinct took over and his fingers curled around your nape to deepen it further. The white wine that had been paired with the pasta was warming your body but not as much as Charles’ hand was as it crept up beneath your dress.
A throat cleared beside the table and Charles pulled back with a sigh as a waiter stood awkwardly holding a dessert menu. 
“No, we’ll take the bill, thank you,” Charles said before the young man could offer the specials. 
“You seem to be in a rush to leave all of a sudden,” you teased in his ear as the waiter left with Charles’ credit card. 
You watched his teeth bite his bottom lip before his eyes trailed down your body. “I want dessert, amour, just nothing they can offer.”
The car ride back to the hotel was tantalisingly slow and it felt like the air conditioner was set on high with the heated looks shared between you. It wasn’t until your phone rang that you were able to tear your eyes away from him and you saw the name on the ID.
“Shh, it’s Max,” you warned before answering the call. “Hey bro, how’d dinner with the donor go?”
“When were you going to tell me you were dating Charles?”  The air in your lungs froze and you knew Charles had heard the exclamation by the tightening of his fists around the steering wheel.
You knew there would be alerts going off on Kristian’s phone as the Aura ring on your finger picked up the sudden spike in your heart rate. “Wh-what makes you think that?” 
“Because you said you were going on a date and now I’m seeing pictures of you and Charles kissing.” 
A tirade of curse words tumbled from your lips, colourful enough to make Charles blush as he indicated to pull into the hotel valet entrance. It wasn’t unusual for any of the drivers to spend time outside of racing together but now the crowd waiting seemed to have a new hunger. 
“Keep driving,” you urged as you saw the cameras flashing. “Go!”
“Pull Charles on the phone,” Max growled. “We need to have words.”
“Fuck off, you’re not my father so don’t act like it.”
“In that case, here.” 
“Don’t you even think about-” you heard the phone exchange hands and hit your head against the window when you heard Jos’ voice.
“What do you think you are playing at? Do you know how this reflects on the family?”
You ended the call and turned the phone off so neither of them could ring back. “The audacity of that man! I’m sorry, Cha, I fucked up.”
“Amour,” Charles said softly as he reached across and took your shaking hand. “It will be alright, we will figure it out together.”
“Shit, Lando!” You rushed to turn your phone back on and saw the missed calls from Max, Jos and even Vicky - which was a low blow since you would have answered your little sister’s call if you had seen it. “He’s not answering.”
“He is probably still at the charity dinner,” Charles reasoned as he stroked his thumb over your hand gently. “We can’t just drive around all night, we will have to go back to the hotel at some point.”
“I know…this just changes, well, everything.”
A smile tipped up Charles’ lips as he reached a stop light and looked across to you. “It doesn’t change one thing; I love you.”
Click here for part five.
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blingblong55 · 5 months
Text
This love - Vladimir Makarov
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Based on a request:
Oh, as a request idea what would be about Makarov and wife! reader for whom he'd burn the world and she got injured during a fight with an opposing tean having him go rampant at everyone until he holds her again? With a fluffy ending mayhaps?
(also I absolutely loved The Great War 💕) --- F!Reader, fluff, established!relationship, in love with the villain, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, protective!husband --- A/N: I always said, Makarov embodies 'I'll burn the world for you, for what they did to you.' I will never back down from that. Also, I'm glad you liked The Great War :)
Red. That is all he saw, how dare they hurt his wife! No one and he means no one can ever in their fucking miserable lives touch you, never and that is a threat. He hated them, for all they are worth, Kasper Team is a dead organisation. Did he need their blood? Yes, his wife, his darling wife got hurt and oh will they pay for what they did. You walk into the room, his gaze softens, his fist opens and he smiles. How can the world be so cruel to him? Making him the evil man and then giving him a pretty lady like you and making him turn into the softest of men.
"My love," he speaks to you, nods the man off so he can be alone with you and opens his arms. "Don't hurt them," you speak and he looks at you, cupping your face and shaking his head. "I must. No one can touch you, sometimes I feel as if I don't deserve the privilege of touching you. You are an angel maybe a little bit of a devil but you…oh, you are my angel and no one should touch or hurt you," his lips meet your forehead. This is always the same discussion, he is so cruel, so evil, so vile primarily if you were hurt. And you always found yourself not wanting him to stop, it is a dangerous form of devotion that you two have. Something neither of you want to stop, to never lose. For you, he would tear the world apart, he would hold you in his warm arms as you two watch with glee as the world falls apart.
For you, he would drench himself in blood, only to have you kiss him, wipe the blood off and still see him as the man of your fantasies. Call it wicked call it anything you please, but his love, oh his loving heart is dangerous and fun. It is the kind of love no man should play with. Not even the evil of monsters dared to touch that dark corner but you did and that evolved into something so beautifully treacherous. He'll tell you anything if you only ask it of him. It's trust, truthfulness, devotion, lust, poison and an anecdote found between lips, warm hugs, sex, and all else those eyes of yours and his fail to say when they look at the other.
To him, having you was brighter than the sun in that blue sky. Your caress was a warm blanket on a snowy day. A room full of bloodthirsty soldiers could go silent when you walked in and into his arms. No one dared question you, never and he would make sure of that. Your kiss, possessing him, taking control of his soul and making it your slave. His heart, that long has been proven to belong to you, to have your name carved in it the second he was born. Stars aligned or not, he was yours, your fool, soldier, lover and friend. He is the darkness, the one you found comfort in.
He cares for you. That's why, he sent his men to hunt down all those responsible for your injury. "Come here, let me hold you," he walks to his chair, sitting down and making you sit on his lap. His arms held you close to him like he needed to have his skin and yours mixed together. It's perfect, you're perfect. He looks at the plans for how he will end that organisation and then smiles, kisses your neck and hums as he nuzzles his face to your body. He isn't like anyone, for if he was, Shakespeare would have done a play about him and it would be that in this case, the villain wins. You drink your poison for him and he does the same for you. Never one without the other. He made sure of that.
They say, that what feeds wars is hate, for him, this new war is revenge. You turn to him, wondering what is going on in his head. And as if he was listening to your thoughts he smiles, "You. I'm thinking of you, how lucky I am…how lucky I got to have a wonderful soul, my wife, my lovely R/N to love me back." His thumb touches your bottom lip. He was in a trance, one you knew well. In his mind, Vladimir always thought of when he met you, how he fell in love with you and how his cold heart started to get warm again. Your eyes, oh that sweet stare that made him into the poem reader he has become. So, when he looks deep into your eyes, he cups your face with both of his hands and begins to recite a poem for you.
O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.
So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mile. (A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns)
Your eyes are teary and beautiful. "Don't doubt for a second I will hesitate to hurt the man who hurt you," he whispers and kisses you once more. Like a precious cascade, his love pours into your lips. No one knew but behind closed doors, in safe arms and on a reading nook, he held you close, a book in his hands as he read to you poems or stories. Your hands by his thighs as the autumn skies cast your shadows. Love, yeah….this is perfect, this love is the embodiment of calm love.
A/N: so...now in my head, it's canon this man reads poetry
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captainfern · 11 months
Note
heyyy, how are youu? as I see your request are open so here I am again. I absolutely loved “About A Girl” it was perfect and exactly what I imagined so i’m back for seconds 😋
hear me out 🫵🤠✋ what if after a long mission the team gets a few weeks off, reader goes on a date, Price sees and gets jealous and since reader’s date is a bit of a jackass and gets reader uncomfortable Price intervenes and takes reader. One thing lead to the other 😉😏 and there’s a little of everything, heavy on the degrading praise and breeding kink from Price cuz he’s always wanted to put a baby in reader since he first saw her :((
(as you can tell i’m a big Price enthusiast 😈)
Something In The Way
Captain John Price x fem!reader
["Something In The Way" by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - read the request. price saves you from a bad date, then you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, possessive!price, unprotected piv, breeding kink [you're welcome], praise, degradation [slut used like once], oral [f!receiving], lowkey dumbification, implied age gap but that isn't a problem for us obviously 🙏, this is basically a hybrid of my fics breed and lithium lol, strong language, an absolute arsehole of a bad date i'm sorry in advance
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When you get a few weeks away from work, sometimes you don't know what to do with yourself.
Acting like a proper civilian was kind of hard when you'd just spent the last few months eradicating a terrorist threat on the opposite side of the world. But, hey, you weren't complaining that Laswell awarded you with a break.
One of the first things you did was catch up with your friends. You all went out to dinner together, eventually turning towards the bar down the street. Here, you met this guy– he was really nice, and quite good looking as well– and you gave him your number.
A week later, brought you to today.
The guy from the bar, Lucas, had taken you out on a date. You were really excited– your friends hyping you up via FaceTime as you got ready a few hours prior. You took a taxi and met him at this really nice restaurant, where he greeted you at the door with a warm smile, and took your arm, leading you inside.
An hour and a half into the date, you wondered just how drunk you were when you gave this guy your number.
"So, you're in the military?" Lucas asked as the two of you finished up desert.
"I am, yeah." You replied. He'd asked that question twice already, but you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.
He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, I never thought that women could join the military."
You paused, spoonful of crème brûlée halfway to your mouth. You lowered it. "What?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's such a masculine job when you think about it," Lucas said, swirling his spoon in the air while he talked. "I'm guessing you work with a lot of guys?"
"Yeah? Why should that matter?" You replied, placing your spoon beside your bowl. Your appetite for desert was suddenly gone.
He shrugged. "Just wondering. I bet you're popular on base, huh? I mean, if I worked with you, I'd definitely hit."
You scoffed. "You'd hit? Real mature, Lucas."
"Hey, don't get offended, Jesus," Lucas said defensively. "Surely you see where I'm coming from? It's not like I'm saying you're a fucking barracks bunny or anything like that–"
"Oh my god," you said, getting to your feet and snatching your purse off the table. The waitress arrived with the cheque, but paused when she saw what was unfolding before her. "Thanks for dinner, Lucas, but you just ruined it."
He got to his feet as you breezed past him, offering the waitress an apologetic smile. She returned it, and was quick to thrust the cheque into Lucas' hands, telling him he must pay before he leaves. You hid a grateful smile as you hurried out of the restaurant and into the night.
Outside, you felt yourself burning with rage. Who the hell does that fucker think he is talking like that? Cheeks burning, you pulled out your phone and attempted to dial one of your friends for an emergency pick-up.
"Hey, wait!" Lucas appeared behind you, walking briskly up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What'd I do?"
You shrugged his hand off your shoulder with a scowl. "I don't appreciate being spoken to like that, thank you very much." It was sarcastic and had a blunt bite. Good.
He shook his head, sneering. "Oh, so you're offended? What a surprise, a woman getting emotional over a joke."
You really wanted to slap him. Smack your hand across his stupid fucking face. But, you didn't. You bit your tongue, looking down at your phone and pulling up one of your friends contact.
"I just wanted to fuck you, anyway," Lucas suddenly said, making your eyes snap up to his. "Waste of my time, clearly."
You gaped at him. "Are you fucking serious? You're an absolute arsehole."
He took a step closer to you. "What? Isn't that what you let the guys at your base do? Spreading your legs–"
"I wouldn't finish that sentence if you want to leave with your teeth still intact." A deep voice behind you, and you turned to see your captain walking towards you, cigar between his thumb and forefinger.
Lucas scoffed, giving Price a once-over. "What're you gonna do about it, old man? This doesn't concern you."
Price's other hand was in the pocket of his jacket. He moved his arm to the side, bringing his jacket away from his body, revealing a pistol strapped to a holster on his hip. He was quick to hide it beneath his jacket again as he stepped up beside you, arm brushing yours.
Lucas paled, backing away slowly. "Jesus, okay, fine, I'm leaving."
"Hold on," Price grumbled, beckoning Lucas forward with a flick of his cigar. An ember dislodged, sparkling through the air as Lucas took a hesitant step forward. "Delete her number."
Lucas pulled out his phone and quickly deleted your number. He showed it to Price, who simply exhaled a thick cloud of smoke into his face. Lucas coughed, eyes no doubt stinging, as Price leaned forward, speaking right next to his ear. You stood patiently behind him, not sure what he was even saying.
"If you ever talk to her like that again, or if you ever try to even contact her again, I'll fucking kill you. D'you understand?" Price uttered.
Lucas nodded quickly. Then, he yelped, cursing in pain, springing backwards and hurrying away without even looking at you. You saw him clutching his right hand, a circular burn mark branded on top. You cast a glimpse at Price, cigar still held tightly between his fingers. You smiled.
Price watched Lucas disappear before he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You alright, rookie?"
You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."
Price scanned your face. "You sure? He was a right cunt, wasn't he?"
You chuckled. "Yeah, he was."
Price took a drag from his cigar. "What's a pretty girl like you going on a date with a fuckwit like him for?"
You shrugged. "I think I was way to drunk when I gave him my number."
Price smiled at you, the air between you hazy with smoke. He looked at your hands, where you were fidgeting with your phone.
"You need a ride home, rookie?" He asked.
You shook your head. "Oh, no, I'm okay. I was just about to call my friend to pick me up. They should be able to come and get me."
Price just shook his head softly, taking another drag from his cigar, now near the end of its life. He dropped the crumbling remnants into the gutter, shifting his foot so he could crush it further into the pavement with the heel of his shoe.
"I'll take you home."
You shook your head. "No, honestly–"
"Come on, rookie," Price was already walking away from you. "Captain's orders."
•º•
In his car, you don't know what came over you. One moment, you were telling him about how the date went and the next, you were sobbing into your hands in his passenger seat.
You apologised profusely once you had calmed down, and he offered words of support from the drivers seat.
"I'm sorry, I just feel so fucking stupid that I let him talk to me like that." You said, tears in your eyes drying.
"You're not stupid, love. It's normal to feel like this."
You sniffed, hugging your arms around yourself. Price glanced at you.
"Why don't you come to mine for a bit? Don't want you being alone when you're feeling like this, rookie. You can have a drink if you want."
Slowly, you nodded. "That would be nice. Thanks, cap."
"John's fine, love."
You made a face. "No way. It feels weird calling you anything other than captain or Price."
Price laughed. "But John's my name!"
"I know," you laughed too. "But, still, it just feels strange. Like when I called Ghost Simon that one time, and Soap went absolutely apeshit at me."
"Alright, fair enough," Price smiled. "You can call me Price, then."
"Thank you." You remarked, and Price shot you a smile. He was glad you were smiling now.
•º•
"Damn, your house is so nice," you said as he let you through the front door, locking it behind you. "What the hell are you getting paid to afford something like this?"
"Not that much more than you, love." Price said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a hook near the door.
"Bullshit." You laughed, kicking off your heels and following him into the kitchen.
He rounded the kitchen island, opening a top cabinet and extracting two glasses. Then, he gestured to the array of alcohol bottles lines up along a nearby shelf. You selected one that you were familiar with, and he poured you a glass. You thanked him as he slid it across the island to you as you sat down on a barstool. He poured himself a bit of scotch.
"Feeling better?" Price asked, taking a sip of his drink.
You nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Price."
"No worries, love. Couldn't let that piece of shit talk to my rookie like that, eh?" He took a long sip.
My rookie.
Your stomach fluttered with butterflies for a moment as you took a sip of your drink, trying to calm them. He watched you with kind eyes.
"What's going through that mind of yours?" He asked, pushing his glass aside and holding the edge of the kitchen island, leaning against it.
"S'nothing." You grumbled around the rim of your glass.
"Come on, rookie."
You sighed. Embarrassed, almost. Cheeks heating up, you averted your eyes. "Just, I dunno, thankful."
"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "Now... are you sure that's all that's on your mind?"
You should have nodded. Should have told him that, yeah, I'm fine, thank you. But, you gently moved your glass aside, managing to look at him. He cocked his head, waiting for you to speak.
"I just..." You were past the point of embarrassment now. "I'm just really thankful. You didn't have to bring me here. I really appreciate it."
Price watched you closely. He hadn't touched his drink for a while. He wasn't even smiling anymore. He knew.
For fuck sake, you thought, nervousness building in your stomach. Of course he fucking knew. And, to top it all off, the butterflies were back. Great.
"I want to, um, thank you... properly."
"Thank me?" Price uttered. "Rookie..."
You cringed as he got up and began to approach you. This is it, you thought, biting your lip. He was going to fucking berate you for being so inappropriate. I mean, come on– he's your fucking boss for crying out loud! What the hell were you doing?!
"Shit, Price, I am so sorry. This is so inappropriate," you rambled. "I should never have put you in this position–"
He stood behind you now. You were still sat on the barstool, but could feel the warmth of his chest on your back. He leaned down, chest brushing your shoulder blades, lips by your ear.
"Stand up." He whispered.
Here we go, you thought as you gingerly got to your feet. He was going to kick you off the task force.
He nudged the barstool away with his foot and it skidded along the hardwood floor. You jolted at the noise, before his front was pushing into your back and suddenly– really fucking suddenly– he was bending you over the kitchen island.
"You said you want to thank me? This what you had in mind, rookie?" He asked, low in your ear. "Wanted to thank me like this?"
You were speechless. But, you nodded. The butterflies in your stomach were raving now, and you felt your body beginning to heat up as he pressed himself against you: chest and abdomen hard against the curve of your back, his pelvis flush to your arse.
"Yeah? Naughty fucking girl. Wants to get fucked by her captain?" He had a firm grip on your hips, holding you to him. "Naughty fucking girl." He repeated in a growl, shoving your dress up your hips.
It was all happening so fast that half the time you forgot to breath. Your dress was hiked up your legs, bunched around your waist as Price took a step back to admire your backside. He hooked a finger around the waistband of your underwear and let it go with a snap. You jolted, still pressed to the cool marble of the island.
"These are nice," he commented, and you could hear his smile. "Planning on getting fucked, eh?"
You shook your head. "No."
"Fucking liar." He said, grabbing your underwear again. This time, he ripped them down your legs and you felt them drop around your ankles.
You knew you were turned on, but when the cool air of his kitchen hit your bare core, you felt like squealing. Your arousal was dripping down from between your legs, running down your thighs now, much to Price's delight. He ran a finger up your thigh, collecting the fluid, and you shivered.
"Dripping..." he drawled, smearing your arousal across your inner-thighs. "Needy slut you are, rookie, aren't you? Dripping for your captain."
You whined at him as he turned you around, your lower back slamming into the edge of the table. You wondered what the hell he was doing, but that was answered when he kneeled in front of you, taking hold of your thighs and lifting you like you weighed nothing. He propped your thighs over his shoulders as you leaned against the island, arms spread along the marble. You underwear was flung off of your ankle and vanished somewhere in the room.
He blew a puff of air onto your soaked core, and you felt your body begin to burn again at the way he had your body reacting. With a satisfied smirk, he looked up at you, beard brushing the soft skin of your thighs.
"Can I?" He asked. Why was he even asking?!
You nodded desperately, angling your hips forward and shoving your cunt closer to his mouth. He chuckled and allowed you to do so– pressing his lips to your clit and drawing it into his mouth. You tossed your head back with a moan, hand reaching down to push his head further into you.
He pulled back, though, causing you to whine.
"Hands on the fucking counter." He snapped, before drawing your clit into his mouth and sucking harshly.
You choked on a sob and forced your arms away. You felt his teeth skim your nerves and you bucked your hips, just as he moved away and licked a fat stripe down your folds. He did that a couple of times, making you a whiney mess above him, before he shoved his tongue into your leaking hole.
"Mmm-mygod," you mumbled around a whimper as he moved his tongue in and out of you. You could hear him doing it– lewd squelching filling his quiet kitchen, matching the tempo of your whines and whimpers. "Price, feels so good."
Price hummed against you, vibrations making you spasm around his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, clamping them harder around his head, resting firm on his shoulders. His nose nudged your clit repeatedly as he moved his tongue in and out of your cunt, and it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.
It didn't take long at all before you were about to cum. Legs quivering against his strong shoulders, hips bucking desperately to meet the movements of his tongue, lower stomach tightening. You moaned loudly. "Price, please."
He didn't change his pace or movements, letting you pulse around his tongue as you came. He groaned into your cunt as your arousal flooded across his tongue, dripping out the sides of his mouth and running down his face. Your legs felt numb by the time he retreated with one last kiss to your swollen clit. You whined.
"Knew it'd taste this fucking good," Price mumbled to himself, but his words made your stomach flip. "Knew this cunt'd be so fucking good."
He carefully lowered you to the ground, your legs shaking. You sighed, bracing yourself against the island as he got to his feet, face dripping. Catching sight of beads of moisture rolling through his facial hair, you closed your eyes and whined, almost ashamed. But he didn't let you– he grabbed your face in one large hand and slammed his mouth onto yours. You could taste yourself, making you mewl, and you could feel your arousal now smearing across your face from his beard.
"Just so wet," He whispered against your mouth, tongue smoothing against yours before he pulled away. "Naughty girl you are, rookie. Letting your captain do that."
You hummed at him in response, a moan trapped in your throat. He shushed you, making quick work of pulling your dress over your head and discarding it on a nearby barstool. He then unclasped your bra, immediately drawing one of your nipples into his mouth with a nip of his teeth. You keened into him with a whisper of his name as he switched to the other, skimming his hands across them, massaging the soft flesh.
It ended all too soon, unfortunately, as a moment later he was spinning you around and bending you over the kitchen island. He was still dressed, but you heard the unbuckling of a belt and the sound of a zipper. After a moment, he placed his belt on the island in front of you, and you saw his pistol sitting in his holster. You whimpered when you looked at it.
Price chuckled darkly behind you, one hand on your hip as the other shimmied his pants down. "You liked when I threatened that fuckhead, didn't you, love? S'that what got this slutty cunt all wet?"
You nodded, skin hot.
Price tutted you softly. "Naughty, naughty girl, rookie."
"Only for you." You whimpered, and Price paused his movements behind you.
Then, he groaned, and you felt his warm cock press against the curve of your arse as he bent his body over you, draping his toned abdomen against your spine.
"Yeah, that's fucking right," he growled into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there. "S'only for me."
That definitely awakened something inside of him.
Leaning back, he grabbed hold of his painfully hard cock and began to drag the ruddy tip along your glistening folds. You moaned into your arm, resting them beneath your head. He grunted under his breath, snagging the head of his cock against your entrance, a schlick sounding through the kitchen.
"Fuck, listen to this pretty cunt talk," Price groaned, repeating the action with his cock and earning the same wet sound. "S'just begging to be stuffed full. Begging to be fucked."
You were burning up beneath him. You wiggled your hips, pressing your arse further onto him, and he gripped your hip tighter.
"Be patient." Price warned, drumming his fingers on the bone of your hip.
You didn't listen.
You whined, backing your arse against him. "Price, sir, I need it."
"You need it? Aw, my poor girl. My poor, needy girl, so desperate for cock," Price mused, running his cock along your folds again. "What do you say?"
"Please–"
"Please, what?"
"Please, sir, fuck, need you so bad." You sobbed.
"That's what I thought," Price uttered, pushing the fat head of his cock into your drooling cunt, stretching you out. "Needed this cock so bad, I know. S'all right, love."
He pushed deeper and deeper into you; your silken walls clinging to him, constricting his cock and making him sigh deeply into the skin of your back. Eventually, he was nestled as far as he could go with his hips flush to your arse and the head of his cock kissing the entrance of your cervix. You mewled quietly as he placed a few wet kisses along the column of your spine, hands massaging your hips.
"There we go, love, taking me so well." He whispered as he pulled out of you, tip resting at your entrance.
You were about to complain at the sudden emptiness, but he was thrusting all the way back in before you could get the words out. You choked on your sentence, gasping, as he slammed into you and began a pace that left you slumping against the kitchen island like a rag-doll, whimpering.
"I know, I know, just feels so good, doesn't it, darling?" Price cooed in response to your desperate whimpers. "Your captain's cock feels so good in this pretty cunt, doesn't it?"
Deliriously, you nodded. "Y-yeah, feels s-so good, sir."
He grunted in reply, slamming into you over and over and relishing in the way your walls sucked him in. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock. Ruin you for any other man. He wanted you to want his cock, and his alone. He wanted you.
He moaned deeply. "This cunt was made for me, love. Perfect, squeezing my cock so good. S'mine now, love. All mine."
You couldn't argue with that.
You'd never have thought that your captain could act like this. Animalistic in the way he rutted into your dripping heat, heavy cock dragging against your walls, head kissing the entrance of your womb. His hands were tight on the curve of your hips, groping and kneading the flesh as he pulled you onto his cock repeatedly, matching the gruelling pace of his thrusts.
He'd rendered you a babbling, whimpering mess– whining softly, calling his name, drunk off his cock. You let your mouth drop open, a languid string of moans falling from between your lips.
"Sir, m'gonna cum." You managed to say between airy moans, and he huffed in response, skimming his teeth down your spine.
"Cum for me, darling. Cum 'round my cock."
You did, with a loud moan that his neighbours may or may not have heard through the silence of the night. You spasmed around his cock, arousal flooding out of you and painting his lower abdomen and thighs in slick. You tightened around him and he groaned, sucking marks down the expanse of your arched back.
He redoubled his pace as you became pliant beneath him. You let him use you– fucking into your soaked cunt like he was starving for it. He was grunting and groaning under his breath, mouth still sucking bruises along your back, before he dragged his lips up your spine and rested his head at your shoulder.
His thrusts were losing rhythm as he neared his release. The movement of his hips was yearning– his need to cum stringing him rigid as he pounded into your tight cunt.
He was losing his absolute mind.
"Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight n' wet," he groaned into your shoulder. "Better than I imagined. So much better."
The needy rutting of his hips and the depth in which his cock reached inside of you was quickly pushing you towards another orgasm. It built fiery hot in your abdomen as he babbled into your shoulder, losing control of the dominant persona he had began with.
"Huh-hngh-fuck, yeah, that's it, darling, that's it, taking my cock so fucking well," his words were stringing together. "M'gonna cum inside, okay? Wanna fuck you full of me."
You arched further for him, taking him deeper. "Please, sir, cum inside–"
Your orgasm crashed over you and you whimpered his name, body shuddering, wetness dribbling down your legs. Price cursed quietly as you gushed around his cock again.
"Always wanted to fill this cunt. Wanted to– ah, fuck– wanted to breed you nice and full, rookie. Make it– hngh– take. Make you all pretty and fat with my kid–"
That made your cunt squeeze him extra tight, a new wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. In response, he groaned low into the crook of your neck and thrust his hips so hard you felt winded against the marble. The head of his cock nudged the plug of your womb as he came, a lot. Endless strings of warmth, filling you, overflowing onto the hardwood floor. He whined your name into your neck, sucking one last lazy bruise to the smooth skin.
"Good girl," he whispered, angling his head to kiss the juncture of your jaw. "My good girl."
•º•
"Morning, rookie, how was your break?" Soap asked as you walked into the barracks three weeks later.
You shrugged. "Not bad, actually. How about you?"
"It was good," he smiled. "Ghost n' I went up to Inverness. Beautiful part of the country, that is."
You smiled back at him. "That's really cool! Have you got any photos?"
He beamed as you dumped your bag onto the couch and slumped down next to it. Soap took a seat beside you, taking his phone out of his pocket. He opened his camera roll just as Price strolled into the room, hat on his head.
"Morning, Soap. Keeping well?" He asked, approaching the back of the couch and ruffling Soap's mohawk. "Need a bloody haircut."
Soap battered his captain's hand away, smiling. Then, Price was looming over you.
"Rookie." He said simply.
"Captain." You replied.
"Good break?" He asked.
Visions of the entire three weeks flashed through your mind– you and Price in his kitchen, his living-room, his bedroom, his bathroom, his pool, his fucking car. You were hardly ever home during those three weeks.
"It was a great break," you battered your eyelashes at him. "You?"
He pat your head gently, walking away. "The best break I've had in a while."
When he left, you followed his figure with your eyes. After a moment, you turned back to Soap, who was giving you a peculiar look.
You furrowed your brows. "What?"
"That was weird."
"What? No it wasn't"
"Mhm," he wiggled his eyebrows. "You have something to share, rookie?"
You rolled your eyes. "Not particularly."
"Oh, come on, lass."
"Nothing to share," you shrugged. "Unless you want to share the great time you had with Ghost in Inverness?"
You gave him a pointed look. He looked away, cheeks pink.
"Fuck off."
"Love you too, Soap."
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
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teatreeoill · 4 months
Text
|| Movie Night (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||
Gojo Satoru swears that watching movies is the best training method, and that's all it is, just training, really. Fluff with slight innuendos.
W/C - 1.3 K
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"You think we're what?" Nanami's eyebrow cocked up as soon as you spoke. He shot a helpless look at Haibara who was standing over him, leaning his weight on the hand he placed on the desk, entranced by the praise hidden in your request.
The few months since you've started attending Jujutsu High have passed in the blink of an eye. The curves of the hallways became more familiar as you found your way through the maze with ease, a day-to-day routine carefully forming when you began to befriend your classmates, the solemn-looking Nanami Kento and his enthusiastic friend Haibara Yu, awed by their rapidly increasing strength.
The two of them, together with your upper-classmen whom you've only briefly encountered, always looked like they had noble reasons for being in the Jujutsu world - and although it always felt too rude to ask what they were, your reasons for attending the school had paled in comparison to the things you've imagined.
"I think you're strong," you smile awkwardly, "and I was wondering if you have any advice - to - you know, help me get stronger too."
"I don't think I'm the right person to ask," Nanami shied away from the request, tugging on his uniform to distract himself.
"Don't worry!" Haibara cut into the conversation, the smile plastered on his face melting the awkwardness you felt, "You should talk to our upper-classmen, I heard one of them is the strongest sorcerer they've seen in hundreds of years. I'm sure he'll have something useful to say!"
Hibara's expression changes as soon as you walk out of the classroom with a newly found determination to find the strongest.
"Wait," he furrowed his brows at Nanami, placing his thumb on his chin, "D'you think she thinks I think she's weak?"
"I think you should stop thinking so much."
-
"Weak? Yeah, I can see that." Gojo's careless words earn him an elbow to his ribs from his friend Geto, who smiled sheepishly at you while mumbling; quit teasing the juniors, Satoru.
"He doesn't mean it like that," Geto assures you, but the confidence you felt first approaching them on their break between classes vanished just as fast as it came. You manage to let out a bashful chuckle, suddenly aware of the afternoon sun burning mercilessly at your back.
"But I do," the white-haired sorcerer grumbles back at his friend, pulling off his shades to wipe them on the side of his uniform, "She's weak - but at least she wants to do something about it."
You find yourself so remarkably fixated on the light blue color of his eyes peaking through his pale eyelashes that the next words catch you off guard.
"I'd ask Yaga if I were you," Geto ignores his friend's remarks.
"I wanted to," you admit, "I just - I don't want him to think I'm unsatisfied with his teaching methods."
"It's a shame," Gojo puts his sunglasses back on, adjusting them lightly on the bridge of his nose, "If you're unsatisfied you should just say so - don't you think, Suguru?"
Geto sighs.
"But I'll help," a smile creeps slowly on Gojo's face, "What kind of senior would I be if I turn down a desperate plea for help from my junior?"
You open your mouth to defend yourself - trying to retain a neutral expression after being so brazenly called desperate, but fearing Gojo would take back his newly offered assistance, you only utter a quick thank you before agreeing to meet when classes are over.
Geto watches you walk into the building, and just as the hem of your fluttering skirt disappears into the doorway, he turns to his friend.
"That's very kind of you."
"Don't look so surprised, Suguru." Gojo scoffs dramatically, "I would never turn down a junior in need."
Geto rolled his eyes, to which Gojo finished his sentence, "Especially when they have such pretty eyes."
"And a short skirt," Geto laughs.
"A very short skirt." Gojo agrees.
-
"You didn't have to change," Gojo inspects you through his sunglasses. He isn't disappointed about the way the gym clothes hug your body - but the skirt you wore before already held a special place in his heart.
"Why? Aren't we going to train?" You inquire.
"It's a different kind of training," he states nonchalantly, to which you only stare at him, awaiting the specifics, "We're going to watch a movie."
"A .. movie?"
"So you don't want to train with the strongest.." he pauses, turning around as if to walk away.
"N-no!" You exclaim a little too loud, feeling like a wild animal whose leg got captured in a bear trap, "Let's train."
-
You sit down on the edge of Gojo's bed, gluing the palms of your hands to your knees as you watch him insert a CD into the laptop he put on a chair in front of you. He fiddles with the laptop for a while before turning the movie on, letting the opening credits play while he speaks.
"Now, all you have to do is keep a steady flow of cursed energy while you watch."
"What happens if I don't?" You inquire.
"I'll be here to keep you in check," he crosses his arms, directing his attention to the screen, triggering you to do the same.
The open credits pass to reveal the title, The Green Mile. Oh god, that movie's heartbreaking.
Gojo began to feel as though his mission was failing. He hoped you wouldn't be able to stay in control for long - imagining himself putting a hand on your thigh while guiding you confidently, saying things like Don't worry, I'll show you how it's done. Maybe you'll even call him Senpai. But the steady flow of energy in the room hadn't wavered in the past two and a half hours.
The pressure in the room drops as soon as the film attains its climax. A soft smirk grazes Gojo's lips when he starts to speak, turning to face you, "Don't worry, I'll -"
You feel a tear rolling down your face, distracting your focus. As you wipe your face with your sleeve and regain composure, you notice him staring at you with a glimmer of regret, stretching out a long arm to engulf your shoulders.
"T'was good, for your first training session, that is." He talks through the gut-wrenching music of the ending credits.
"Yeah, a training session.." you roll your eyes, still painfully aware of the arm he hadn't moved off your shoulders, why do they always think they're so smooth?
-
12 years later
You look through the doorway into the TV room, watching Gojo picking out DVDs for Yuji, his new student, to watch.
"You're not really going to make him watch films, are you?" You sit next to him, moving the pile of DVD cases scattered across the floor.
"It's training," Gojo focuses on reading the film titles on the paper sleeves, "You should know that."
"Oh please! You were just trying to get in my pants."
"Me?" Gojo chuckles, "You were the one trying to get in my pants - you're so strong Gojo, please train me Gojo!" He imitates you poorly, but you've gotten used to it throughout the years, "You were so desperate I thought you might cry if I refused."
"Oh then, please remind me who was trying to kiss me after finishing The Notebook."
"I did that for you! You were looking so depraved going on and on about how handsome the guy is, I felt sorry for you."
"Sure you did," you mused.
"He's not your type anyway," Gojo shrugs.
"Oh, what's my type then?" You flash a cocky smile at him as he pushes through the pile of DVDs to get closer to you.
"I don't know, I'd say tall, blue eyes," he pushes his blindfold down to rest on his neck, "handsome," he presses closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, "strong," he bites down on your bottom lip softly.
"Gojo-Sensei," a voice cuts through the room, "What are we doing for training today - oh," you push yourself away from Gojo, feeling your face grow red as you watch a blushing pink-haired boy rush away from the TV room, "I'll go train with Fushiguro today!" Yuji exclaims from the hallway.
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diejager · 5 months
Note
Hallo! Truly loved the MonsterAU stories! Wonderful, amazing writing!
Would it be possible for you to write: what if human!reader was turned into a chimera?
Akin to this:
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Feel free to ignore!
Chimæra
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Pairing: Monster 141 x Chimera!reader
Cw: science experiment, human torture, human testing, gore?, blood, canon-typical violence, unethical human experiments, kidnapping, child abuse, malnutrition, child neglect, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.6k (A/N): credit to @bluegiragi’s monster 141 designs.
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They were tipped off by an anonymous source that some shady and highly illegal things were being done in a small and remote town near the border of Belarus, their ongoings unknown to both the government and public of their country, but someone had given Laswell a file containing all the horrific tests conducted within the closed walls of the innocuous-looking compound —a laboratory dressed as a simple military base. The folder held snapshots of emails and files sent between scientists and researchers, small indications of what was being done to both humans and monsters, yet withholding important intel about certain things. It disclosed the location, the names and faces of every worker and leading figure in the compound, the number of security and their schedules, and what was done, but not what was truly happening, it left small clues, sublet words here and there with hidden meanings —never clear images, blurry ones as if the person was in a rush.
Despite not having clear indications of the illegal activities, Laswell had enough to have 141 sent to take it down, to bring the dehumanising lab to its ground and burn it down. She didn’t have trouble convincing them, it was telling enough to let them read the condensed files for them to read, to see themselves the monstrosity being done to children and monsters they took, kidnapped from around the world to be left at the deceitful hands of crazed scientists. There wasn’t much to be found outside it, the base wore the facade of a benevolent patron, bearing the crest of kindhearted investors wanting to rebuild rundown houses and reconstruct rough and broken roads and paved streets in the town they took to hide. It worked for the most part, they profited from this by acting without raising any suspicion from anyone, neither the authorities nor the people. 
“Christ,” Gaz swore, looking down at the words in the file he received, the teased truth and the dreadful treatments through a thick layer of secrets and subtle wording, the only clear intel was from the straightforward emails sent to and from researchers and the heads of the facility, unabashed and shameless bragging of their success and the narrative to which these subjects could be used. “Why did it take so long?”
A recurrent theme of these was about a certain subject, it was about C34, spoken with such pride and joy about their creation, the work of the new world and the future made within these walls. Most emails were the exchanges between them about C34’s training, the ongoing treatments and every successful mission and exercises, they spoke of C34 as if they were a dog, a rabid mutt they captured and took on the task of domesticating it. It was demeaning, degrading and cruel, to look at another being as something lower, something needing domestication —it went against every rule and law put in place to protect humanity, the many conventions sworn to protect the goodwill and security of the innocents.
“We’ve had our suspicions before,” Laswell sighed, the images of the screen switching with the small click of her control, laser pointing at the images of various weapons cache and illegally procured weapons. “There was a slip up in the shipping, it was dropped here-” she motioned to a circled area in the map, a closeup of a secluded road near the town, “and we were able to retrace it to the facility. We needed more intel about the facility before acting and we needed to know what we're facing here, if we should send a team or send you.”
“What now?” Price tilted his head back, smoke leaving the sides of his frown, a deep and unpleasant one. He couldn’t even look at the intel given with a straight face, the shadowed truth of cruelty and dehumanising acts done by humans. “Figured you send us after seeing this, Laswell?”
Laswell nodded, jumping to another slide, showing blurred images of subject C34, a blurry figure, tall and imposing in every way possible. They stood high, stature seemingly one belonging to a monster or hybrid: on four legs and the wide, familiar shape of wings, everything about C34 cried monster. Perhaps one they captured as a child, taken from their mother and kept in this cell. There were many pictures of this one, blurry and disfigured, but others had smaller shapes, the size of children with various characteristics. 
“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!” Soap spat, disgust dripping from his tone in waves, unending as were the other’s curses, each holding their level of horror and repugnance. His face was wound tight, brows dipped lowly and lips pursed, he balled his fists, anger rising within him with every image he saw, the deplorable conditions and the care given to the monsters —what could they even expect from this shady company engineering monster and human DNA to fit their preferred narrative, for money, for reputation, for strength. “We ‘ave tae do somethin’ about this, Price!”
Soap - Johnny - had always been the more emotional one, letting his good heart lead his decisions when the situation seemed to fit it. His wolf made him more susceptible to emotional attachment, a pack mentality driven deeply into his mind and heart, he was viciously loyal and wore his heart on his sleeve, uncaring of how he’d be hurt by a betrayal, he simply saw the best in the world, something many couldn’t after a while, but Soap could, Johnny was a good man at heart. That’s why he reacted the most out of everyone, voicing his distaste and hate, his need for revenge and the sanctity of the lives being stolen in the facility. 
Soap pushed Price to agree, seeing no reason not to lead the breach, to uncover everything done to innocent lives. His eyes connected to the man hidden in the darkness, his blue eyes gleaming with fierce justice, a contrast to the wraith who lay in silence, abhorrent and seething quietness. Ghost peered at him, head tilted up with white pupils darkened by black eyes, death layering off him with calmness. He gave Soap a curt nod, affirmation for him to continue to voice his mind, to help those in need. 
“Seems like it’s been decided, Kate,” Price gave her a lopsided smirk, amber eyes narrowed with what could be read as anger, teeth sinking into the girth of his cigar, ash falling. “When are we going?”
Her lips parted in a proud grin, eyes gleaming with something dark and wrathful. She leaned on the table, head held high and shoulder broad while she flicked off the projector:
“Wheels up at 1500 tomorrow.”
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You stared down the man before you, watching him tremble under your cold gaze, steps hesitant to approach you despite being seated, body prone on the hard floor you called a bed. He was new, possibly recently employed and his boss - or his direct manager - played a dirty game with him. It was some kind of rite of passage for every new employee courageous enough to accept their recruitment, all bright-eyed geniuses wanting to build their place on earth with forthgoing discovery, desperate and narcissistic; yet they were so easily tricked into you cage, locked in by cackling and grinning guards and coworkers. 
He smelled young, fresh-faced and a bit nervous, most were when they first saw you. You remembered everyone who walked in, the smell of fear and anxiety, the disgusting scent oozing off their bodies, rotten and putrid like a rotting corpse. You would’ve gagged and choked if you weren’t used to it, having grown close to the smell of death, calling the reaper your friend. You weren’t bothered by him, only the cart he was wheeling over, a big and heavy cooler that smelled fresh. He was made to bring you food by his boss, a cruel joke played on every new scientist who was always so eager to meet you before cowering in terror once the lock clicked. 
Standing before your third cage, he unlocked the small hatch and, with effort and a loud grunt, pushed the cooler into the hole, big enough for a big cooler but small enough to fit your arm through it. You waited until he stumbled away, distancing him from you before reaching for the container, it was light, weighing little in your palm. They fed you raw meat, sometimes buying the fresh catch of a Belarus hunter, usually an elk or a wild boar, but if they were lucky, a bison or a bear, other times they would have conserved meat shipped from outside the town, bigger cities or outside the border. 
Today was an elk, the meat cold and free of rot, it smelled as good as a fresh kill did, bloody and heady. You ripped into it without care, tuning out the loud retch from the scientist as you gorged on your meal, claws tearing it in half and biting into the bloody meat. Blood rolled down your lip, painting your cheeks crimson and staining the cream-coloured rag they considered a shirt. It would be changed after your meal, as it always was. Despite the elk weighing around six hundred kilograms, you finished it quickly, with pointed teeth cutting and pulling flaps of meat and ligament, blood spraying and dirtying the metal ground near the hatch. 
It was filling, albeit cold. You cleaned your hands of blood, licking it off like a grooming cat, tongue laving over the sharp edge of your claw and under your blunt fingernails. You peered at him from under your lashes, eyes gleaming in the darkness. You watched - pleased with yourself - him shudder, face growing green with unnerve at your show. You knew he was desperate to leave, to get a breath of fresh air outside of your cell, you understood his fear and wanted him to suffer for helping your owner, the man watching over your training, but you wanted him gone before he emptied his stomach on your floor. So you pushed the cooler out, clawed arm breaching past the hatch to leave it farther from your cage. 
He left hastily, legs shaky and face pale. 
“I want a bison next time,” you growled, words rolling off your tongue huskily from its rare use. 
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It looked as inconspicuous through the NVGs as it did in the pictures, a few grey buildings built lowly to hide an immense labyrinth dug into the ground, secret passages crossing unending halls with locked doors and tipped with surveillance cameras to watch over the whole facility. They studied the very walls that made this place a secret fortress, from the body to its heart, like mounting a brigade against a castle, Laswell’s team found the few hidden entrances that connected to the lesser-used passages, winding through many hallways and wide vents, big enough for humans but too tight for monsters the size of C34. Task Force 141 led the mission, infiltrating the base under the darkness of night where they could crawl and slink through shadows to catch what they hunted. They were joined by Marines, all experienced and skillful, wearing scars like a badge of honour. It would either be a quick in and out, or a long and strenuous infiltration. 
Price took Gaz and led half of the Marines through the west, breaching the lab from above. They pushed in steadily, relaying information and physical cues to Watcher - Laswell - with a body cam recording everything they saw, the facade they wore above ground, hiding their dark enterprise. Ghost, as usual, has Soap watch his six, following closely behind him with puppy-like loyalty and the other half of the Marines. Team Two’s - Delta - mission started through the underground passage they sniffed out, a long and unwinding hall that went straight through the heart of the facility. Ghost’s team went dark, needing the cover of silence to stay hidden in a highly protected area of the base to run this clandestine mission. They spoke only when needing to, to make calls, to reaffirm intel or to let both Bravo and Watcher know a change, the tech team in the temporary safe house a few miles away from the compound watched through the cams, from the subtle change in the air to a jarring lead to what was happening. 
While Price and Gaz worked on creating a distraction, taking a load off team Delta’s shoulders, they could work through the system faster and more efficiently with the fire taken off their backs and front. It was controlled chaos for both teams, creating a mass discordance within the enemy lines: panicked higher-ups at the sudden attack, while they had a small squad of personal soldiers, they were unprepared, taken by surprise by both teams attacking on two fronts; and confused mercenaries, their quiet and boring schedules made them lose the edge of suspicion, of wariness towards what awaited them and the sheltered job with little to no action apart from a few failed escape attempts by the subjects.
“Delta 0-1 moving in,” Ghost mumbled into the coms, his team following him closely, rifle held tightly with the muzzle pointed forward as they crossed the threshold of section C, heading towards the one holding the monster subjects. 
They left behind them groups of bodies, slumped over the walls or limp on the ground, blood painting the sterilised and glossy walls, turning the once white hall into a grotesque place, dead bodies covering the length of the corridor like the ones they walked through before, leaving the stench of death that even the Marines could sniff out. It wasn’t clean - they weren’t aiming for it to be clean - but they wouldn’t need it to be clean when the Laswell would send a clean-up team to deal with this, Ghost would steal a bite before they arrived, quenching his hunger for revenge with them. 
A few guards stayed to watch over the cells, doors unlocked by a keycard that most guards kept in their back pocket, Ghost would have to take one off a dead body. Under Ghost’s cover, Soap dashed to the other side of the hall, taking a few with him to corner the mercenaries, boxing them into a closed hallway until they all died. Despite a few of the Marines taking shots, bruising the skin under their plate, black and blue blossoming like a bloody flower under the thin layer of skin, they kept their heads high and minds clear, moving forward without a misstep or hesitation. Soap swiped a few cards from the bodies, throwing one to Ghost. 
“Delta 0-1 to Watcher, can you hear me?”
“Solid copy, Ghost,” Laswell voice rang out clearly, reaching his ears in seconds.
“We found the cells,” his eyes roved over them, white paint over thick, cement walls to hold whatever they locked into the cells, perhaps the children the saw or the big one, C34.
“Do you have the keycards?”
“Affirm,” Ghost growled slowly, hearing Laswell's confirmation to continue. “Going in.”
He tapped the pad, a loud beep ringing in their ears as the lock’s mechanism creaked to life, unlatching from its metal hold to let them in. Both he and Soap walked in, leaving the others to watch their backs while they surveyed the first room. It was dimly lit as it was bare of any decorations apart from a visible toilet, a small sink and a few metal beds. It looked like any usual cells they came across, made barren and empty of anything useful to prevent the prisoners from escaping or causing a ruckus, but the people they kept in these cells were children. Soap swore under his breath at the sight of children huddled together, seemingly no older than 12, he lowered his rifle. They were backed into a corner, three older kids holding a younger one in their arms, protecting her from them, from whoever meant to harm these children. 
They looked malnourished, left to slowly rot in these cement boxes until the scientist found something worthwhile in them, their cheeks sunken in, eyes droopy and swollen with bruises - they were beaten, it made something ugly rear its head inside Ghost dead heart - and lips dried. One was armless, having wings that they used to cover both of their cellmates, naked with only feathers covering their body, this one looked more like a harpy than it did human. The two others had arms, both having the lower half of a mammal, neither of them was sure which four-legged mammal it was, but one had a pair of wings, while the other’s back was bare of anything. 
“We’ve found the children.”
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You could hear the chaos from your cell, the blaring alarm and the smell of death. The building shook from its foundation, vibration emanating from both the ground floor and the basement, just farther from your hall, the closed and sectioned-off area. They separated you from the defective ones, all your young mistakes they made after achieving success —you. They tried to recreate it, but it never came out how they wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake on their part or maybe it was the lack of a certain gene in their DNA, a subtle difference that you and the rest had. You didn’t want to know and you didn’t want them to succeed a second time, it was painful, the shift, the tests and the change, the storm of pain, terror and confusion weren’t worth this power. 
You could hear the booming sound of gunfire, a loud ricochet of the bullet when the nitrocellulose sparked and sent the bullet outwards, finding its destination in the warm flesh of human guards. You usually enjoyed this kind of chaos if you knew what started it, and laughed when something caused trouble for your captors, but you were cautious of this one. You neither knew who thought to disturb the peace nor did you know who was behind this, their scents strange and the sound of steps unknown. All you knew was that their steps were heavy, out of breath but pushing their way into - what you thought to be - section C. The place they kept the young and willful. 
You might be blinded by your cell, but the guards outside your confinement knew how to talk, their chatter and barking orders loud enough for you to hear through the thick walls. From them, you knew they were strangers, unknown players on your board of pawns. You didn’t know their goal, whether they were here to let you out or keep you in a cage of their making, but you knew they were a gamble on your fate. As the noise got closer, you sat down, crossed your paws and waited, cautiously awaiting to see what your verdict would be.
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Strangely enough, there was a different section, separated from the other one by many gates and stricter security, but they were able to break through it. Security was concentrated in one hall as if the monster they locked at the end of this hallway was of big importance. It had higher security, stronger and thicker. Ghost wondered if it was to keep the monster in or keep people out, either way, this meant that they found the thing they first came here for: the trained and dangerous subject C34. 
Ghost was apprehensive about opening this metal door, built taller than any doors he’d seen, it was as wide as it was tall, metres over what would be considered normal for a human or monster, similar to the wide gates that protected British castles, tall and imposing, but the most worrying was it’s vast amount of security measures. He thought back to the blurrier giant he saw in the picture, their shape indescribable and otherworldly, almost alien-like. His eyes met Soap’s reassuring ones, standing steadfast and unyielding to do good in the world. So with a nod, Ghost worked through the locks and scans of the heavy, metal door made to keep this cement cage closed. This door clicked loudly, echoing down the hall with ominous intent, foreseeing something damming and destructive. 
Yet they hadn’t expected to see another cage within the cage, a box made of reinforced glass, large and robust and inside of it was another cage, a rough metal one with bars for walls, a sick joke of a bird’s gilded cage. It would’ve seemed almost exaggerated to have three layers - three different cages - to keep one subject safely locked up until he caught sight of the monster. Lying on the cold, metal ground with legs folded in, tail curled around them and staring at both him and Soap with cautious curiosity. It looked like a gryphon if it were more reptilian than a mammal, this monster had a human torso, a head wearing a stoic expression, dressed in rags. Where there would normally be legs was the body of a bird, an eagle perhaps from the golden-brown plumage and reptilian legs from the knee down, followed by a fully scaled back, hind legs and a strong tail. Each toe was tipped with a sharp claw, big and deadly if it got its hands on someone, it could easily rip into anyone without putting in much effort. The biggest thing about it was the folded wings, feathered and equipped with a talon. If it could fly, these wings would be powerful. 
He understood why they kept it locked, it was neither man, monster or hybrid. It was a beast of human creation, a creature made to be at the peak of its condition. It was smart, he could see it, the glint in its eyes and the pursed lips, mien kept monotone and calm —observant. 
What did Laswell sign them into? 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly
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strbymacaroon · 4 months
Text
Silent Love: Ch. 1 - New Roommate(s)
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⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter One
Master-List: Here!
Read on Ao3: Here!
.・゜゜・ 。・゚゚・ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:
When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.
However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.
You hate him.
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:
College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.
Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 14,003
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・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 13th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Monday
“He was so big.” Nobara shivers, a small smile gracing her lips. “I know he was totally texting other girls behind my back and shit, but that dick was dicking.” She points aggressively at nothing, merely trying to make her point stronger. 
“Ew. Can you not tell me that right now? I’m eating.” You turn away from her, twisting your fork in your noodles, “I was gone for a week, and this is what you do in my absence. You should be ashamed of yourself.” You take a bit of your food, but immediately follow it with a sip of your Sprite. Adding a cough with a very suspicious word that rhymes with shut. 
Nobara playfully glares at you, “No girl, you signed up for this when we became friends, you need to know.” Nobara leans her head down on the table, biting her bottom lip. “I’m telling you, I miss my stink-stink.” She pulls out her phone, “Maybe I should text him…” 
“I don’t want to hear you crying about him anymore.” You scold, pointing your fork at her accusingly, “I can’t deal with your sobbing when I’m trying to go to bed because he broke your heart again.” It’s the reason you're moving out, actually. 
That's being mean, it isn’t the reason why you’re moving out. But, it definitely is one of them. 
A playful smirk slowly builds on Nobara's face, “It won’t be my emotions I'm crying over.” She laughs as you roll your eyes. 
“Okay, that’s enough for brunch today.” You shut your Panda Express box closed, “Call me when you're no longer in heat so you can help me pack.” You grab your tote-bag, slinging it over your shoulders. 
Nobara pouts, “Awh. I can’t believe you’re leaving me already.” She pushes herself away from the table, trailing behind you. “I mean, I’m not stopping you, but who would want to leave me?” 
Obviously you do. 
“Are you moving in with your parents in the meantime?” Nobara asks, tilting her head at you. 
You shake your head, “No, I already have an apartment contract. Rooming with this random girl who goes to a different school.” You sigh, “It’s a bit far for my comfort, but the view to the city is gorgeous. Couldn’t pass it up.” You’re going to have to deal with taking public transportation from now on, but that’s a new risk you’re willing to take. 
“Yeah, my new roommate is moving in on Monday.” Nobara sighs, “I don’t even know her name yet…” 
“That can be a good thing, maybe you’ll make a new friend to tell you sex stories to.” You smile at her kindly. 
“No, I swear if you cut me off after you move out I’ll go and kill you myself.” Nobara accuses, a finger pointing at you scoldingly. “You have to have lunch with me everyday now that I can’t see you.” 
You may be mean, but you’re not that mean. “Of course not, I would never leave you. I wouldn’t give up your answers for Anatomy and Physiology.” You tap her nose, grabbing her hand and pulling her next to you. “Also your wallet for amazing food.”
“Good to know all I’m good for is homework answers and food.” Nobara groans, yet tightens her hand around yours nonetheless. “Next time I swear I’m going to let you figure things out on your own. No more puppy eyes when you don’t want to do the homework, or when you’re hungry.” 
“That could be a good thing. Except the food part.” You mutter, an amused smile slowly building on your lips. “I’m sure my future patients will appreciate me learning the curriculum rather than copying someone else.” 
“Agreed.” She leans her head on your shoulder, hugging your arm. “Hopefully you’ll be able to pass the final without me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pass life without you.” 
You lean your head atop of her’s, sighing softly. “You’ll be okay, next thing you know your next roommate is going to be reenacting you when you tell her your sex stories.” Sure, Nobara is a hard person to get along with and can be quite brash, but you still enjoy her friendship nonetheless. 
Nobara pauses for a moment in thought, “Wait? Do you want me to call my friends? They can also help you pack.” She smiles wickedly, “We can make them do the heavy stuff because we’re just..” She dramatically places the back of her hand to her forehead, “Weak little fraile women who can’t do anything without the fear of breaking a nail.”
You look at your nails, seeing that they were freshly done, a cute white set with small jews sparkling in the sun. “That is a genuine concern of mine, though.” You lower your hand again, being careful not to snag it on your bag. 
“Even better.” Nobara smiles, tearing her hand away from you and pulling out her phone to open her messages. “Here, I’ll call them and ask for help.” She clicks someone’s contact before you can even answer. 
“No, please don’t.” You tell her, watching as her finger hovers over the call button. “I don’t even know these people and I’m asking them to do stuff for me, that’s going to make me feel bad.” You press your lips together, “Maybe if they were my friends… but it’s okay, I’ll have everything done.” 
Nobara waves you off, “Nonsense, it’s not like they have anything better to do.” She laughs, “Hell, they’re probably just laying around waiting for me to call them to give them something to do.” Her finger presses the call button, you immediately cringe. 
The phone rings once, before the line is picked up. Nobara looks to the side, “You busy?” You can’t hear the other side, but she smiles and quickly adds, “No you’re not, stop being like that. Come help me pack after class.” She ends the call, shoving the phone into her back pocket.
“I hope they don’t come.” You whisper, only to pause, “Oh my god! Shit, I completely forgot I’m supposed to meet up with my professor right now!” You pull away from Nobara, panicking, “I’ll be right back, I’ll—I’ll meet you at our dorm!” You shove your food into her hands before quickly dashing off, your skirt bouncing with each step.
You’re out of breath, but slam the doors or your lecture hall open, catching the attention of the white haired professor. You’re quick to glance at the time, seeing it was almost two minutes past your professors office hours. 
You pray to Satan's right ass cheek that your professor is still here. 
Your professor passes you a quick glance, before singing, “Office hours ended two minutes ago.” He continues collecting the papers on his small desk and putting them in his bag. “But, I’ll humor you since I know you’re not the physical type.” 
You’re aware of how hard you’re breathing from running, the words come out jagged as you drop your bag to the floor, “T–Touche..” You move to his desk, picking up a few papers and handing it to him, although it’s in your better interest. You lean your body on the desk. 
“So…” He draws, blue eyes flickering from his desk to your face, “What did you need help with?” There's a hint of playfulness behind his voice, but it’s equally as mocking. 
Ugh, you hate Professor Gojo. Okay… that’s a lie, he’s really nice to look at, but that’s all. “I’m sure you got my many emails and noticed my empty seat, but I couldn’t be here for a solid week.” You pass him a meek smile.
“Why were you out?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. You’ve always liked that about Gojo, how animated he is. It adds an interesting draw to his lectures. Seeing his hands flail dramatically around to emphasize any topic he was teaching. 
You look to the side, instantly avoiding eye contact, your heart tugging at the thought. “Uhm… F-Family emergency..” You wave your hand, as if the topic was a fly you were trying to rid, “I was just wondering, what I missed? We do anything important?”
Professor Gojo places his hands on his lips, looking at the roof in thought. “Hm, I don’t think you missed too much.” He grabs his black sunglasses and pushes his hair back with them. “Just a month-long project that takes up thirty percent of your grade.” 
Your eyes widen, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach while your jaw falls slack. “You’re joking.” You take a step back, it feels like you’re going to faint. “Oh my god. Please don’t say that.” Why didn’t Nobara tell you anything about this?!
Professor Gojo smiles, “Not lying, unfortunately.” He flips his sunglasses to fit comfortably on the bridge of his nose, “Your grade is totally tanked.” He tilts his head to the side, white silky strands falling with him. “Unless you can make up a week of lost time in a month.” He thinks, “It’s the thirteenth, so, it might be possible.”
A week worth of work, that doesn’t even include your other classes. Work you also need to catch up on. You quickly try to calculate the workload for the other classes, but immediately feel worse when you do. You’re sitting around twenty hours, maybe even twenty five hours of work. 
It’s manageable, you’ve done it before your freshman year when something similar happened, it may be the reason why your life ends early, but definitely doable. Also something you definitely don’t want to do either.
For a brief second, you're tempted to pull down your shirt and ask him, ‘Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?’ Like those weird pornos or fanfics you and Nobara view to pass time, but you immediately think against it. 
One, that isn’t going to work. This isn’t a fanfic. 
Two, you’re pretty sure Gojo is gay, and married. 
Although, if you were to tell Gojo that last one, you’re sure he would be offended. Yet, immediately follow it up with pictures of his gay partner. Why do you think that? You’re pretty sure you’ve seen it happen before. Like, seventy-six percent sure. 
So, you cringe and ask, not seductively at all, “Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?” You’re sure Gojo is aware of your shiny GPA, something which many of your college professors attempt at tainting, but can’t with how determined you are to keep up your grades. 
Gojo looks at the roof again, thinking for a moment. “I can assign you a different project, or I can just assign the original project to you.” He looks at his desk, pulling open a drawer and searching through the papers, “Which do you want to do?” 
“Is this a final?” Your question is a bit blunt, but Gojo picks up it’s purely fear talking. 
“This is the only thing I’m grading this before your final. Meaning, it’s due…” Gojo leans forward, looking at the calendar on his desk. “The eighth of December. And don’t worry, it’s a project just going in as an assessment grade.” 
That’s right, finals are right around the corner, on the eleventh of December. Meaning, if you procrastinate on this project, or somehow fall behind, you’re sitting–at most–a weekend of studying for your finals. 
God, this makes everything so much more stressful for you. 
He wiggles his shoulders, “I wanted to give my students a break to study.” He cups his face, “Aren’t I an amazing person?” 
No. Your eye twitches, “Yeah, such an amazing person.” You sigh, moving away from his desk and grabbing a chair. “What was the assignment?” You prop it right next to his chair, grabbing the staple of paper and skimming through the stipulations of the project. 
“You’re popular, right?”
No one is popular in college, people just won’t shut up. “Define popular.” You grimace. 
Gojo doesn't miss a beat when saying, “You have many friends, right?” 
You don’t miss a beat when saying, “Define many?” 
Gojo gives you an indescribable look, “What do you mean describe many? What else would that mean?” 
You look to the side, “Well, if I came to lecture and ate five cheeseburgers, you’d be like, wow, that’s a lot of food. But, if I told you I only had five friends, you’d be like, wow, that’s not many friends.” You reason. 
Gojo doesn’t look disappointed, but he’s not necessarily proud either. “Well, you.. don’t, right?” He passes you an empathetic look. 
“Of course not.” Gojo sighs in relief, “I only have two.” Gojo ignores your remark and snatches the paper from you, ignoring your playful grin. He’s quick to explain the project, but with each stipulation you feel your stomach tying itself into knots. 
Partner work? 
Mental Evaluation? 
A project where you pick a student to physically and mentally evaluate their day to day life for a week. Learning about their eating habits, working habits, study habits, and personal life. Then, write an essay about your studies and your personal evaluation on their health, life, and personal character. Gojo assured you that this paper should be told to the participant, however does not have to be shared with them, and will not be shared with anyone other than himself. 
The project seems evasive… you wonder if it’s even allowed. Which seems right up Gojo’s alley. He was always in people’s business. But, a grade is a grade, and you're not going to complain. He’s one to assign something much harder to teach you a lesson about complaining.  
Gojo grabs a pen and writes something down in your packet, “I’m already aware you want to become a physical therapist, so I’ll put that down as the hands on part of your project.” He doodles a small version of him worshiping the rubric, “However, since a handful of students already chose to do medical physical therapy, I’ll have you do sports physical therapy.” 
You feel your stomach turn again. Sports? You haven’t played a sport, more or less exercised, since your highschool days. Even then, you weren’t in a physically demanding sport such as volleyball or soccer, you did marching band. 
Which you could argue was extremely physically demanding, but you regress. 
Gojo adds your name to a shared spreadsheet, adding your name to the sport physical therapy colom. A small shiver of relief soars over your body when you see the name Maki. Thank god. At least you know someone. You’re pretty sure you have her number, too. 
Gojo looks at you again, resting on the palm of his hand. “It doesn't change much. Instead of choosing a random student, now you have to choose a student athlete for your project to be based off of. It’s simple, and shouldn't take more than a few weeks. For you at least.”
It’s nice for Gojo to have faith in you, but you don’t have it in yourself. “Thanks.” You take the paper from him, again looking through the packet again. It seems simple on paper, the most difficult part seems to be finding someone willing to be the participant, but you’re sure you can manage.
Hopefully. 
Gojo waves you off, “I’ll see you in class.” 
You’re already off, grabbing your bag and shoving your papers into it. Off in a rush to the next place demanding your attention. Which feels like overwhelmingly everything this past week. 
You smile, your hands signing, “That’s cool, you are really good at drawing.” You use a pink crayon to continue your drawing, a simple picture of the young girl sitting across from you. She’s in elementary school and incredibly shy, often choosing to stay by your side when it’s playtime. You don’t mind.
She smiles at you, grabbing her sparkly notebook and writing a quick, “Thanks.” Before quickly pushing it away and continuing to color the sun an interesting shade of purple. You take a small mental note, the sun should be purple, it’s pretty. 
You continue to braid her long hair, being careful not to tug too hard and accidentally mess up her artwork. You use a hair tie with a pink bow to tie it off, making sure all the strands are secure before pulling two small strands to frame her face. 
You move to the left of her, telling her, “Now we are matching.” She awkwardly giggles at that. 
“Where’s the president?” 
Your head whips around, looking for whoever called you. You immediately know from the way they’re addressing you, it’s a parent. You place a hand on the girl's back, standing up and making your way to the impatient parent. 
You pass her a kind smile, “Can I help you?” 
“I’m here for my child.” She seethes at you, her eyes moving up and down your frame, “Is that even appropriate for working with children? Do they pay you to dance on a pole and dress like a–” 
“I’m not getting paid.” You tell her, holding your hands behind your back, “I’m the president of the ASL club here, we teach people about ASL and the language, we also volunteer here when the School of Deaf Children have a small field trip to our school.” You smile brighter, “I don’t get paid to do anything.” You reiterate.
She gives you a look between disgust and jealousy, which you can’t blame her. Not everyone can be intelligent and as beautiful as you. “What’s your child’s name? I can grab them for you.” You call for a member of the club, telling them to bring a clipboard with the sign out sheet. 
When they do, you give the items to the mother and search for her son. You click your foot on the floor three times, the vibrations sending a silent call for the boy. He turns his head and looks at you, watching as you point behind you at his mother. He sighs and gathers his things. 
You laugh and move back to the mother, taking the clipboard and skimming over the information she added. You ignore how she misspelled his name, actually, that’s a lie, you erased it and fixed her mistake. You do ignore the nasty glare she gives you. 
“He always enjoys being here with us,” You watch as the little boy tugs his things to you, feet dragging on the floor dramatically. You place a hand on his head, “I’ll see you on the next field trip.” 
She scowls at you, but softens her gaze on her child, asking him about his day. There’s a genuine smile on her face while she talks to her child, so you don’t let her words get to you. 
“Don’t know how you do it.” Her voice is sharp, pulling you to look at her. “Especially after meeting with Gojo, you’re a trooper.” There’s a hint of playfulness, although you can barely pick up on it due to her RBF. 
You laugh dryly, “Oh, I–I don’t know, I’m just…” 
“Your flask is sticking out of your pocket.” Maki points at your torso, her face as emotionless as ever. 
Your eyes widen with fear, looking down at your torso only to notice you don’t have pockets. You pass her a hard glare, “Ha ha. Very funny.” You lean your weight on one of your legs, “I would be dead if found with something like that, especially here.” You gesture to the children behind you. 
Maki laughs, “So..” She starts, “I’m sure you’ve finally gotten the project.” 
You groan, looking back at the club working with the kids. “Ugh, yeah.” You roll your eyes, “I don’t know what’s worse, that fact it’s thirty percent of my grade, or I have to humiliate myself to a random athlete to pass it.” You sigh.
Maki’s eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, you’re also doing athletes? I thought you would be in “physical therapy” where you can just choose random friends.” She tilts her head, “Isn’t that what you’re kinda known for?” 
You mush your eyebrows together, “Wait, what do you mean?... Known for?” You pause, “Wait, don’t tell me that how people know me?..” 
Maki laughs, before mockingly saying, “Oh, wait? Is that the girl who wants to become a physical therapist? You think she has the answers?” She crosses her hands over her chest, “Something someone has said to me while doing work.” 
You pout, “Why can’t I be known for how cute I dress, or something?” Why couldn't you be known as that mysterious hot girl in lecture? “Whatever, I don’t care…” You do care, you care a lot. “But, no yeah, Gojo said there wasn’t any room, so he put me in the physical therapy for athletes slot.” 
Maki cringes, “Rough. But I wouldn’t worry, it’s just a few people in our class.” You let out a sigh of relief. “You know what’s rougher? Actually finding the athlete, luckily my little brother is one so I got a free pass.” She laughs, cupping her mouth, “And I don’t have to embarrass myself following a random boy like a puppy.”
You feel your eyes widen, “Shit, we really have to follow them around?” You sigh, “I don’t even know any athletes, I don’t even know where to start…” You look at one of the kids running around, making sure to keep an eye on them in case they trip. “I feel like I’m going to embarrass myself by asking a random one to help me.” 
“I think Gojo is plotting.” Maki says, “He’s bored and wants something exciting to happen, so he decided to make this stupid project where we’re forced to be close to someone twenty-four-seven.”
You laugh, a decently sized crowd passing behind you and Maki. “Sounds like Gojo.” You cup your mouth, as if anyone were interested in your conversation and whisper, “I heard he assigned a boy and a girl together back when he first started teaching and now they’re married working on campus.” 
“Oh yeah, have the girl’s lecture class.” Maki looks at the sky, “Gojo fiends for drama, but we all know this.” She turns over her shoulder, wondering about the loud and obnoxious conversation behind her, only to notice the large crowd of boys. She softly groans in annoyance. 
You quickly eye them alongside her. 
“Football boys,” She mutters, clearly agitated. “Hate them all, so glad my brother isn’t one of them.” 
“Should I ask one of them to do my project?” You tilt your head, watching as they slowly move away from you, their loud chatter getting more distant. “Maybe if I pull down my shirt enough someone will say yes.” 
Maki scoffs a laugh, “Yeah. That could definitely work.” She looks back at the group, her happy expression falling for a moment, “Just don’t get the pink haired one. He’s a dick.”
Your eyes snap back to the group, you didn’t even notice a pink haired guy, “What, why?” You don’t recognize him, which means you don’t have any classes with him. 
“Some asshole.” Maki scowls, turning back to look at you. If looks could kill, the guy would be six feet under. “He’s a football player who doesn’t know shit about the real world, got everything handed to him while growing up.” 
“How do you know that?” 
“Because he talks about it in class.” She shakes her head, “You should hear him, so full of himself, and won’t shut the fuck up.” She pivots a foot behind the other, “He’s rude, too. The only people he’s somewhat nice to, are his professors.”
You laugh, “That’s how it is sometimes, Maki.” You look back at him, he’s tall and built, “Besides…” You smile at Maki’s disgusted face, knowing what you’re going to say. “If he’s hot, he could do whatever he wants for me and I’d thank him.” 
“You’re hanging around Nobara too much.” Maki turns on her heel, “Whatever, if you choose him as a partner and fail, I’ll be the first one to tell you..” She smiles over her shoulder, “I told you so.” 
You’re not going to, but you say, “I doubt it.” You turn back to the kids, wanting to put your full attention on them again, but pause. Your eyes travel to look back at the man, skimming over his body again. 
Maybe you can die on this hill, but assholes are hot. 
Then again, you don’t know any assholes in your life, so you can totally be delusional and be reading too many fanfics for your own good. But, Nobara does, and she loves her asshole, you think. So, they can’t be that bad, especially if they look that good. 
Whatever. You have more important things to obsess about. 
You’re about to enter your room, when the door swings open, slamming into your face. You whimper, stumbling backwards into the wall behind you. Both your hands cupping your face in pain, your cute bag falling to the floor. 
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.” A pair of hands make their way to your shoulders, “I didn’t think anyone would–holy shit, Nobara!” The person shouts, “I accidentally killed someone with the door!” Their voice is boyish, but in some weird way that is what makes it charming. 
Someone else rounds the corner, your guess is that it’s Nobara. “You killed her?” She pushes the boy away from you, her hands wrapping around your shoulders as she crams you in her neck, “Poor thing’s had a rough day, and this is what you welcome her home to?!”
“I’m so sorry!” The boy responds, he sounds very ashamed. 
“Keep it down, it’s three, everyone’s trying to nap right now.” Another boyish voice perks up, he sounds more monotone than the first one. As if he also had woken from a nap, “Try bringing the body inside before panicking.” 
“Good idea, Megumi.” You feel a pair of hands grab your waist and hoist you up, throwing you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You don’t know if you should be offended, or flattered. “We’ll check for a pulse when we’re inside.” 
Nobara's voice pops up again, “Wait! Be careful of her skirt! You’re going to flash people!” She scolds, and you pray to everything that is almighty that there isn’t anyone in the dorm hall. “Megumi, you grab her bag!” 
There’s no way this is happening. You move one of your hands to press on the fabric of your skirt, pressing it against the high of your thighs. “I got it.” You tell her while the man carries you into the room, Nobara shutting the door behind the two of you. 
You take this time to finally look at the other man in your room, not the one carrying you, just to specify. The man has jet black hair, part of you wonders if it’s dyed, and pale skin. His eyes look a bit lifeless, but you can’t blame him, it is college after all. If you can remember correctly, the man holding you like a potato-sack called him Megumi.
You’re dropped on your bed, your hair fluttering around your head. For a moment, you feel like time has stopped, the boy in front of you smiling widely. You want to laugh at the irony, a part of you thinks, what a small world? Then, you remember you attend a college, and the only people who walk around at that college are the students who attend that college. 
Wow, who would’ve thought, right?
So, the first thing that leaves your lips is, “I like your hair.” To give yourself some credit, it’s what you found the most interesting part of his backside.
The boy tilts his head, his hand moving to run it through his pink tufts, “Thanks.” He leans on the bed next to you, he’s still looking at you as he says, “I like you.” He smiles again, grabbing one of Nobara’s pillows, “You’re light, by the way.” 
Flattered. That, or he’s just freakishly strong, which seems more plausible. Still, his words strike a place in your chest, either that or you really need to talk to more people. You turn to Nobara, “I like him, why haven’t you invited him to our dorm before?” 
Nobara gives you a look, and that answers your question. She juts her thumb at the boy sitting next to you, “Yuuji’s been the one taking your stuff to my car.” She cocks her head at the other boy in the room, he’s enamored by something on his phone. “Megumi’s been actually packing your things.” She winks, “He ended up only using like three–four boxes with his packing skills.”
Your face lights up, “Really? That’s awesome!” That means you can return the other six you bought from Home Depot for way more than you should’ve. “Thanks, you just saved me like twenty bucks.” 
Megumi gives you a thumbs up, before looking back at his phone. Now that you’re really looking at him, he looks really familiar, you just can’t put your finger on it. You could swear you’ve seen that RBF somewhere before…
Nobara furrows her eyebrows, marching over to Megumi and grabbing his face, “Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She puts her hand on the back of his head, forcing him into a subtle bow. “When I introduce you to someone, actually look at them, jerk!” 
Megumi seems to pout almost, giving into Nobara’s demands and bowing, giving you a half-hearted, “I’m Megumi Fushiguro, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Even when Nobara removes her hand, he stays in that position. 
You find it a bit cute. 
“Wait, we’re saying our full name?” Yuuji tilts his head so he’s practically nose to nose with your face, “I’m Yuuji Itadori, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He looks back at Nobara, “She doesn’t shut up about you.” 
A pillow hits him directly in the face, and Yuuji dramatically falls with it. Acting if he had gotten shot with a gun. Nobara points her nose up, “What you get for running your mouth, I-ta-dor-i.” She says his name with so much conviction, you were almost offended by it. 
Yuuji lays on the bed, his side touching the small of your back, “When will my suffering end, I slave away putting heavy boxes in your car, only for you to stab me in the back like this.” Yuuji grabs the back of your shirt, “You would never do this to me, right?” He sniffles, his hands crawling to hold your torso in a hug. “You would always have my back, right?!”
You snicker, one of your hands moving to cup both of his. You give him a somber look, shaking your head, “No. I would never do this to you, Yuuji.” You hold his hands tighter, “Absolutely never.” You whisper.
Yuuji blinks a few times, letting his head fall on the bed with a soft thud. “The light?... I–I see the light, I don’t want to–I don’t want to go.” 
You stifle a laugh, turning your body to face him, “No! Don’t leave me!” You throw yourself over Yuuji, “I can’t do this without you!” You have no clue what “this,” even is. “I can’t lose you, too!” You’ve never lost anyone before, well.. that’s if you don’t count the plushly you lost at the mall one time.
Yuuji falls slack against the bed, sticking his tongue out and mumbling, the most realistic death sound of, “Bleh!” You finally burst out in laughter, pulling away from Yuuji to clutch onto your stomach. 
Yuuji quickly props his head up on his hand, “Anyway, I’ve been dying. When are we going out to eat, Nobara?” He passes Nobara a careless smile, as if he hadn’t put on the most cringeworthy act with you as his co-actor. 
Nobara gives him an indescribable look, one that borderlines anger and disbelief. 
Megumi blinks a few times, “Well, at least they get along just fine.” He gives the two of you a small applause. Which the two of you deeply appreciate.
Nobara blinks alongside him, whispering, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her talk this much when she’s with me.” She doesn’t know to be offended, or weirdly proud that you’re finally talking to people. Albeit, she would’ve preferred if you became more social outside the comfort of your bedroom, but hey, baby steps. 
You turn over your shoulder, peering at Yuuji again. “I can order some pizza, and when me and Nobara go to my new apartment, you can pick it up and bring it over.” You grab a piece of your hair from his back, you’re guessing it came off when he carried you. 
Yuuji blinks at you with a bit of sparkle in his eyes, “I think you’re my new favorite person.” 
“Are we friends now?” 
“Best friends.” Yuuji clarifies with full seriousness. 
You loudly laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth as you turn away from Yuuji. “Oh my god, he’s so fun.” You let yourself fall on his back, laying down while looking at the ceiling. 
You feel your body collapse for a moment, the aching and stress from the day crashing down on you. Sure, there’s a human below you, but you could be on a bed of pins and still find some form of relief by laying down. 
Like Megumi said earlier; It’s three, everyone is taking a nap right now. That should be you right now, sleeping on your uncomfortable-comfortable college assigned bed alongside your collection of stuffed animals you won from an arcade, and the dozens of blankets you bought from Target with the mindset of: One more couldn’t hurt. 
“If you want, I can move?” Yuuji asks. 
“No.” You tap his back a few times, as if you were a Dad patting a massive dog. “I’m already comfy. I wanna’ take a nap.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, and in the moment it feels like heaven. You really need a nap. 
Yuuji nods with conviction, “Okay, I won’t move.” He quite literally freezes, you’re sure he’s not even breathing from how still he is. 
Your sentence breaks in cracks of laughter as you say, “You can breathe, babe.”
Yuuji clearly lets out a long sigh. You laugh again. 
You want to lay like this forever, but you have an apartment waiting for your arrival. Besides, you’re going to feel even better when you’re laying down in your new bed in your new room. Suddenly, you’re bubbling with energy. 
You collect yourself before pushing yourself off the bed, reaching for your bag, “Here, I’ll go check I have everything in your car and order the pizza.” You turn to Yuuji, “I can tell you when to pick up.”
Yuuji nods, giving you a thumbs up. 
Nobara follows after you, grabbing her keys. Yet, before she leaves the room, she points at both of the boys and says, “Be good.” Then, shuts the door behind her with a smile. “Now, let’s hope to come back to a room with two living men.”
You tilt your head to the side, “Have they tried to kill each other before…?”
Nobara looks to the side thinking, “They have. A good handful of times, actually.” She laughs, thinking about the two boy’s bickering at times, “Yuuji can be something else, and Megumi needs his time alone to function. Sometimes, it’s like trying to make peace between a dog and a cat.”
“Impossible?” You ask with a smile.
“Exactly.” 
You give a humorous laugh, “Is Yuuji the dog?” 
“A big dog.” 
You laugh again, but your conversation with Maki pops into your head again. This time, you voice your thoughts, “I like Yuuji, he’s fun. Cute, too.” Nobara shivers, as if the thought of Yuuji being cute physically revolted her. “But, Maki said she doesn’t like him.” 
Nobara thinks for a moment, “Maki’s the junior in our class right?” You nod in confirmation, Nobara stays silent for a moment, still thinking. “Weird. I didn’t know she knew Yuuji. To be honest, I thought she was the type of person to hate underclassmen.” 
You can’t disagree with her, “Huh. She really does give that vibe?”
“We all have our personal vendettas.” Nobara shrugs, looking at the sky. It’s starting to get dark, the sky blending into hot colors. “I know Megumi doesn’t like Yuuji, but he won’t say that out loud, so who knows?” 
“That can’t be true.” You shake your head, “They look like they get along.”
“They should, or that means freshman year had to be hell for them…” Nobara presses her lips together, “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know if he likes me…” She shrugs again, a cheeky smile building on her lips “But everyone loves me, so I doubt that.” 
“Of course, who wouldn’t love you.” You internally roll your eyes, “No, but seriously. Yuuji seems kind of cool. I just don’t understand why she would say that.” You smile to yourself, “He’s strong, has nice hair, is nice to look at, and he’s really nice. I just don’t understand why she would call him an asshole.” 
“Woah, ew. Don’t say that about my brother, that makes me want to barf.” Nobara pretends to gag, grabbing onto her stomach. 
Your eyes widen in surprise, “You guys are related?!”
“No.” She snickers to herself. 
When the two of you reach the parking lot, she reaches for her keys and unlocks her car from the short distance. Popping open the trunk with her keys, and the only thing you can see is the organized boxes filling her car to the brim. 
You quickly check over all the boxes. Eyeing over everything packed, just to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Damn, you were right about Fusiguro, these boxes are packed.” A part of you wants to pay him, but you by no means have the money. You almost didn’t have the money to pay for the boxes. 
You sit on the ledge of the trunk, picking your phone from your bag. “I swear, I’m going to get the greasiest, cheesiest, diabeaty causing pizza ever for you guys.” You turn on your phone and immediately notice the text message and missed call from your new roommate. 
Nobara cups her face, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Awh! Babe, you didn’t have to, that’s so romantic.” She wiggles her shoulders like a love-sick teenager.
You unlock your phone, checking the message. “You know I take care of my babygir—“ You blink a few times, your words dying. A horrible pit in your stomach twisting and turning uncontrollably, practically eating you alive. Your heart is dropping uncomfortably. 
Nobara notices your sudden mood change, and is quick to voice on it. “Hey, are you okay?” She looks at your hands, trying to see what could upset you. “If you want I can buy the pizza?…” 
You quickly turn off your phone, placing it face down on your lap and letting out a long sigh. You silent for a moment, your hands cupping your face as you whisper, “Shit.” You feel like crying, but you also feel like screaming in rage. 
“Wait, what happened?” 
“My—“ You groan, clearly annoyed, “Fuck, my roommate just said the room isn’t mine anymore.” You lean back on the boxes, resting your weight on it. You’re trying to form the words, but there’s so much going on in your head you don’t think you’re making sense. “She said I can’t come anymore.” 
Nobara furrows your eyebrows, “Wait, what?” She tilts her head to the sides, “What do you mean you can come anymore?”
For some reason, her question pisses you off, and you grab your phone. “Here.” Your voice is stern, clearly annoyed, “Read.” You flip the screen to her, showing the long paragraph you received from your roomma– ex-roommate. 
Nobara eyes skim over the screen, quickly trying to take in all the information before looking at you with an empathetic face. “Oh my–is this even allowed? Don’t you have to sign a contract to move in with them?” She sits down next to you, “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to break the binding if you already signed the papers.” 
You feel a bit stupid about your answers, and for some odd reason that pisses you off. “I–” You sigh, leaning your head back on the boxes. “I didn’t sign anything just yet, she just said I could move in today, and we’ll fill out the papers when I’m there.”
Nobara blinks a few times, “Oh.” Is all she says. She doesn’t know exactly what to tell you, but she knows enough not to tell you how wrong you are. You’re clearly upset as it is, and she doesn’t want to add fuel to that fire. You’re already stressed as it is, so she says, “Uhm, do you want me to help you unpack?...” 
You shake your head, “No.” You can’t unpack, Nobara is quite literally having a new roommate move in within this week. “Okay, no, it’s fine. I’ll figure this out.” You have a small idea of what you can do in the meantime. 
“Figure this out?” Nobara gives you a look, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Babe, that’s something you say when you realize you have a test next class, not when you don’t have a place to stay.”
You sigh deeply, “I know.” Still, you’re trying to figure out what you can do in this situation. Your parents are out of the picture, not literally, they’re just too far, and you can’t stay with Nobara. You can try and move into a hotel, and pray your parents are willing to send you a bit more cash while you desperately try to find a new place to live. 
You nod to yourself, coming to a decision. “Okay, I think I’m just going to stay at a hotel in the meantime.” You open the safari app, and quickly search for hotels in your area. 
Nobara pulls you to your feet, shutting the trunk closed and locking her car again. “Okay, well my new roommate doesn’t come until Wednesday, so you're free to stay the night until she comes. Technically it’s still your room.” She grabs your bag, tugging you along with her as you desperately search for a place to stay. 
“The pizza says it’s going to be ready at five.” You think that’s a suspiciously long time for a pizza to get ready, but don’t question it too much. It just gives you more time to find a place to stay. “You can pick it up and bring it here if you want, Yuuji.” 
Yuuji blinks at you, “Are we no longer allowed at your apartment?” He sounds hurt in a way, but you’re a bit too embarrassed to tell him the truth of the situation. 
You thickly swallow, “Uh, well…” 
“Roommate kicked her off the lease.” Nobara says without batting an eye, “I told her to contact a lawyer, but we all know we’re too broke for that. Unless someone wants to pitch in some money.” She looks at you and passes a discreet wink. 
You deeply appreciate her and her ability to read your thoughts.
Megumi shakes his head, “I can call my Da–” He pauses, clearing his throat, “I can call Gojo and ask for some money.” He looks away, averting his attention at a wall. It could be the bad lighting, but it looks as if his ears are red. 
You have to reign in what Megumi just said, but you aren’t given the time when Nobara jumps into the conversation. “No. She doesn’t like Gojo, can’t imagine how she’d feel if she borrowed money from him.” 
Megumi looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t like Gojo?”
“Uh…” You give him an awkward smile, scratching your cheek lightly. “Not really…?”
Megumi nods, his lips pulling into a subtle upside down smile. It looks almost approving, “Me neither.” You didn't know you could end up liking someone with just a simple phrase, but here we are. 
Yuuji pulls on your sleeve, drawing your attention back to him. “So, what are you going to do?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, as if he were in the same boat as you.  
You pass him a somber smile. “I don’t know, I think I’m just going to crash at some random hotel in the meantime.” You shrug, trying to brush off the topic, but the pit in your stomach doesn’t go away. “Hope for the best, you know?” 
Yuuji practically lights up at that news, he quickly grabs your hands and tugs you into him. “Wait! Does that mean you’re homeless now?!” He seems excited about that, and you wonder if Maki was right about him being an asshole. 
You awkwardly laugh, your smiling faltering, “Uhm, yeah?…” You blink a few times, looking at your hands, then looking back at his face. You quickly pass Megumi and Nobara a worried face, as if you’re trying to say, please help me.
“Do you want to live with me?!” 
No. 
Your lips part, a small noise escaping your throat, but no real words really leaving. Yuuji is pretty fun to be around, but you don’t think moving in with someone you just met is a good idea. Besides, what if the hotel is a better option than the random house he’s offering you to live in. You don’t know how tidy… or dirty his house is, and you can’t just go to his house, scope out the area and be like, ‘Actually, I think I’m going to pass.’ 
It’s rude and puts you in a really awkward situation, a situation you really don’t want to put yourself in. Then again, you really don’t have the money to stay in a hotel, anything you could possibly have in your bank account will be drained, quickly. 
You don’t have the money, or the mindset to drain your bank account. In fact, if the number ‘ZERO’ hits your bank account, your life would’ve been long done awhile ago. There’s no way you’re living to see your personal downfall. 
You press your lips together in thought, “Uh?..” You look at Nobara, and she doesn’t seem to know what to say either. “Are you okay with that?—How much are you going to be charging me?” You have to ask the real question, then you can worry about being a good person and asking about Yuuji’s feelings. 
“Hm?” He blinks a few times, then quickly looks at Megumi, “I didn’t charge my ex when she lived with me. How much do you normally charge your roommates?” It seems like a genuine question, and Maki barks at the back of your head, ‘I told you!’
You softly pull your hands away from Yuuji, blinking at him in confusion. “Wait, do you not pay for your apartment?” You tilt your head at him, blinking in confusion. 
“I don’t.” He places his hand on the back of his head, looking at Megumi with something you can’t quite decipher. “My–” He pauses, making a face at Megumi, “My roommate does.” His eyes perk at that, almost as if it were a revelation. “That’s right, I have a roommate.” 
“So, I’ll be living with two guys?” Your eyes bounce back from Yuuji and Megumi, you can’t say excitement is what you’re feeling right now. No, it’s more desperation and dejection. 
“Mhm!” He pulls you close to his side, and you’re now starting to realize how touchy Yuuji is, but you don’t really mind. “It won’t be that bad, you’ll have your own room and there’s a kitchen.” He looks around the small dorm, “Which I think is already much better than the dorms…” 
You don’t… know. “I don’t know. I don’t want to bother you, and I don’t know if I’m going to have enough money..” 
Yuuji shakes his head, “You can just stay for a month or two, just until you can find your own place.” He places his head on your shoulder, giving you some of the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “And I won’t even charge you.”
“Deal.” Not even a second thought. 
A smile splits your face, excitement blooming in your chest. A free place to live, your own room, and a kitchen? Maybe you could be in danger by living with two men you just met today, but it’s only for a month or two. Free housing is free housing. 
Yuuji jumps up, clearly happy by the thought of living with you. “Hooray! Let’s go!” Yuuji grabs your hand again, pulling you harshly behind him. “I’ll help you unpack and everything.” 
You feel a small blush dust your cheeks, definitely a big puppy. It’s really cute. 
Yuuji’s house is so nice. 
Your eyes are sparkling at the sight, the living room, the kitchen, your bathroom, and your bedroom. Everything is decorated so nicely and smells like heaven, as if someone has just cleaned the room. 
You turn to Yuuji, hands holding each other, “Oh my gosh, your place is amazing! This is so nice!” You move to the couch, sitting down on it, practically melting into the seats. “This is heaven Yuuji, absolute heaven.” 
Yuuji wobbles over to you, flopping over your thighs and stretching over the couch. He’s a bit sweaty from moving all your boxes to your room, and clearly exhausted, but you don’t at all mind. You still move your hands to his head and run your fingers through his pink tufts. 
“You did such a good job, Yuuji!” You practically beaming in your seat, smiling with a bit too much enthusiasm. ”You installed that lock on my door too, right?” You push his hair out of his face when he twists his head to try and look at you. 
Yuuji nods tiredly, moaning out an exhausted, “Mhm.” 
“Awh! Thank you so much, that means so much to me!” You look to the side, watching as Nobara appears from the hall and passes you a thumbs up. A small confirmation of Yuuji’s words. “If you want, you can go grab the pizza now, I’m pretty sure it’ll be ready by now.” 
Yuuji springs out of your lap, energy regained at the thought of food. “Pizza!” He is quick to grab Nobara, pulling her out the door and singing, “Pizza, pizza, pizza, chow-down!” You think it’s adorable. 
Megumi walks out of the hall, looking at Yuuji, then looking back at you. He’s silent for a moment, before softly asking, “Do you want me to stay?” 
You’re a bit shocked by his question, “Uhm..?” To be completely honest with yourself, it would be nice to have the house to yourself for a moment. That way you can try and get a hold of the layout without the judging eyes of your new friends. You’ve also been dying to take a shower in a room without anyone else showering. So, you shake your head politely, “No thank you, it’s okay. I need a moment to myself.” 
Megumi furrows his eyebrows ever so slightly, tilting his head, “Are you sure?” He looks at the hallway, then back to you, “I can stay, it won’t bother me.” He shrugs, but his voice has a hint of care to it, as if he’s trying to put his words in the most friendly way possible. 
You shake your head again, “It’s okay, I’m just going to shower.” Your eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, actually, I have a question.” You push yourself off the couch, moving to stand at the entrance of the hallway. Megumi moves after you. “Which room is which.”
Megumi points at the closet door on the right, “That’s your restroom.” He points at the door at the end of the hallway to the left, “Across from your restroom is your room.” He looks back at you, nodding to see if you understood the information. 
You flash him a smile and nod back, “Perfect, thanks for showing me.” 
Megumi nods, turning on his heel and waving you off. Nobara at the door frame, waiting for him to catch up. She cups her mouth, “We’ll be back in a few, get unpacked in the meantime.” She blows you a kiss and closes the door behind her. 
You roll your eyes and move to your room, pushing open the door and really observing the place. If you can recall correctly, this room once belonged to Yuuji’s ex-girlfriend, which is a bit obvious. There’s a hint of a feminine touch to the furniture and leftover decorations. The window is one of the biggest indicators to such, the curtains being a bit flowy and soft.
The bed is another big indicator. The mattress has been stripped of anything that seems comforting, but the bed frame holds some form of cute touch. It’s white with silver jewels bedding into the leather, creating a patterned ridge. 
The floor is bare, but you don’t mind, you made sure to tell Nobara to pack your pink fluffy rug. However, it has small specks of nail polish. The drawers match the bed quite well, all being white. The desk–or vanity–is something you don’t understand why it would be left behind. It’s gorgeous. There’s even a mirror strapped to the wall a bit above it, a button in the bottom middle to turn on its LED lights. 
You nod to yourself, not bad. 
Sometimes, life is all about risk, and you clearly struck gold with this leap of faith. A cute room, a nice house, and you don’t have to pay rent yet? Could life get any better? 
You squeal to yourself, moving to your boxes and opening the one with your skin care products, hair cleaning products, face cleaning products, shaving products… Honestly, everything you couldn’t use back in the dorms. You’re about to finally care for your skin, mind, and body. 
You're quick to grab your sleeping garments, but find it a bit hard to hold everything so you grab your towel and throw all your things inside, then grab the corners and pull them up. Making a make-shift sack and throwing it over your shoulder. 
Life can indeed, get better. 
Especially when you can take a shower alone. 
You’re giddy making your way to the bathroom, opening the door and closing it behind you. You’re picking your favorite at home, or headphone only playlist, and blasting it on speaker. Picking out from the many girly shampoo scents and propping them in the shower as you swing your hips to the beat of the music. 
You catch a glimpse of the shampoos already in the shower. They’re a bit… They look exotic to put it simply. A brand you’ve never seen before, in fact, the amount of body care looks a bit larger than your own. You feel a bit embarrassed placing your Bath and Body Works body scrub, but they smell so good. 
Even now, your sore bare body underneath the steaming hot water, you’re no longer embarrassed. Your tense muscles relax underneath the jets of the water. Just enjoying your sweet sweet life living in a real house and not a small dorm. You raise your face to the water, rubbing out your face wash, “Fuck, I needed this.”
You flinch when the sound of louder music plays over your own, your eyes snap to the door. You push your hair out of your face and softly sigh. Looks like your friends are back already, and as much as you want to stay in the warm shower, you’re really hungry.
You turn off the water and reach for your pink towel, wrapping it around your body and placing the rest of your face care products on the counter of the sink. It’s a bit of a shame, music you’re unfamiliar with drowning out your favorite–private–playlist. 
You eye the room again, only to furrow your eyebrows. Wait… You feel a bit of dread enter your body, looking around the room with a bit more conviction. 
Oh no, oh no no no no no…
Where are your clothes?! You could’ve sworn you put them in your makeshift sack with everything else–wait, you internally groan, no you didn’t. You placed everything back on your bed and forgot to put it back in your towel. Whatever, it’s fine you’ll just quickly run to your room and grab some clothes, then join your friends for food. 
You grab your phone and reach for the door, peeling it open and peaking your head out. But, you are a bit disappointed at the lack of pizza filling the air, and laughter. The only thing getting louder is the music.
“Hm.” You blink a few times and stand on the tips of your toes, the cold floor sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine as you step onto cold tiles. Megumi’s words echo in your head, ‘The room across the restroom.’ So, as you walk forward and put your hand on the dorm knob, you feel a bit of panic resonate with you as it doesn't open. 
“Shit, did I lock it?” You cringe at yourself. Oh my god, that’s a horrible way to start off living with Yuuji. Getting locked out of your room, naked. For some reason, that thought makes you shake the door knob with more desperation. 
You tug your hand back when the door knob… jiggles back! Have the door knobs evolved?! 
You flinch when the lights of the room flashes on you, the door slamming open. 
Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping subtly. 
The tall man looks you up and down, his forearm pressing against the frame of the door. His face is one that can only be described as disgust and disdain. In fact, he’s so fucking tall, he is quite literally looking down at you. 
You feel so small. 
And, he’s completely shirtless, yet his arms are decorated in a tattoo that seems to stretch from his arms to his torso, chest, then to his face. The only thing giving him some form of modesty being the gray sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips. You can see his v-line and the veins that lead to his…
You snap your eyes back to his face, feeling your burn up, when your eyebrows furrow. The interesting color of his hair is pulling your attention.
Wait a minute…
You narrow your eyes, taking a step back in shock. Another puddle of water pulling to the ground with each step, the bangs that frame your face sprinkling your shoulders with water droplets. 
No way, no way.
An unsure noise leaves your throat, a mix between a whimper and soft cry. “Uh… Y-Yuuji…?” You tighten your hand around your towel, and that realization hits you like a fucking bus. You’re naked. You’re wearing nothing but a towel in front of Yuuji, and he looks absolutely disgusted by you. 
But…You know it’s not Yuuji, it can’t be. Yuuji is a massive puppy, expressive and vibrant, naturally pulling everyone into his circle. He would never even think to look at someone the way this man is looking at you. He's touchy and a bit oblivious, but that’s part of his charm! The Yuuji in front of you is…?
His hair is a bit different, less saturated and messy. His dark natural roots peeking out from his undercut, and he looks… older. In fact, he even looks older than you. His tattoos stretch from his neck, to his face, sharp and crisp lines. 
His eyebrows are pulled together in a glare, a nasty glare, a small wrinkle forming at the side of his nose in disgust. His head is ever so slightly tilted to the side. 
Your eyebrows twitch together, and you find the situation ironic. In fact, you almost want to laugh. Out of all the nice things God had given you today, he wanted to sprinkle in one more surprise. 
This man looks like a…
The man takes a step forward, the music in his room blasting even louder. He was close, way too close. If he wasn’t scary before, now that you have to crane your neck back to look at him, he’s terrifying. He narrows his red eyes at you, letting out a harsh, “What the fuck do you want.” His voice is raspy and deep, clouding anyone he would talk to. 
You blink at his language and rudeness, shocked by his attitude. You part of your lips, they feel a bit glossy from the water, but…a scoffing laugh leaves your lips. 
He looks like an asshole. He’s an asshole. You cover your mouth with your hand, and turn away. A hot asshole. The hot asshole from earlier today. It really is a small world. However, your humor to the events is short lived. You’re quickly reminded of what situation you're in, naked in front of a hot asshole. 
The furrow in his eyebrows deepens. 
“You look like Yuuji.” It’s a silent whisper, one that receives no reaction to the stranger in front of you. He doesn’t even take a step away from you, he’s still too close for your comfort. 
Oh my god. There are two Yuuji’s. Then, light a light bulb, another realization hits you. Oh my god, I’m going to be living with two Yuuji’s. But, you quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another sound.
“Who’s there?” A voice perks from the music, it sounds feminine, and a bit too scratchy for your liking. In a way, it sounds hoarse, or strained. “Is it your brother, I’ve always wanted to meet your brother!” She squeals excitedly, “Let me see him, please!”
Brother? You mimic your thoughts with words, “B-Brother?” You dumbly ask, desperately trying to connect the dots in your head. Wait, you thought Megumi was the one who lived with Yuuji, that’s why the two of them made eye contact back at your old dorm. 
Did you completely misread the situation? You cup your mouth in shock. Megumi isn’t Yuuji’s roommate, his older brother is. The hot older brother who happens to be the asshole from earlier, and now. 
Oh my god. I’m so stupid. 
A blonde woman comes barreling from within the room to the door frame, she’s wearing nothing but a black shirt too big for her. The moment she lays her eyes on your bare frame, her smile twists into something deeply uncomfortable. 
You swear, you can hear the water droplets from your hair hitting the ground from how quiet the three of you are. This is such an unforgettable situation. You pull your hand away from your mouth, passing the women a small smile and a wave. 
She doesn’t wave back. She looks at the man, but he’s not looking at her, his eyes are trained on you. Caught by the way your chest is glistening from the light of his room and the water from the shower, your neck bare and fresh. How your shoulder rises and falls with each soft breath you take, your hair sticking to your face and shoulders. He can smell the sweet scent of your body wash from here. It smells nice.
You smell nice.
Your eyes are something else, though. They’re practically sparkling from the little light emulated from his room, catching every reflection and giving them life. They’re wide and full of shock, you’re most likely trying to process who he is. That idiot Yuuji most likely didn’t even tell you he had a brother. 
You thickly swallow, your throat bobbing ever so slightly. 
He smirks to himself. You’re not too bad looking. 
“Who is she?” The blonde asks with a bit of force, trying to pull his attention away from you. However, despite her question, and her hands moving to grab his arm, he still isn’t looking at her, he’s quiet, way too quiet for your liking. 
He finally shrugs, discreetly pulling his arm away from her hold. “Don’t know. Who cares.” He finally pulls away from your frame, looking at the woman, “Probably one of my brother’s annoyin’ ass friends.” 
She tilts her head to the side, “Oh.” She lets out a small laugh, but it seems more mocking than anything. “Thank god, I thought it was one of your crazy exes trying to get back with you.” She glares at you, “Such a pathetic attempt to use, too.” 
He takes one final look at you, “Yeah.” He looks at the girl, pushing her to the side as he walks back into his room. “Just like you.” He scoffs to himself, turning over his shoulder and whispering at her, “Crazy bitch.” 
She pouts, turning on her heel so her blonde said flips behind her, “Awh! Don’t say that Suki! You know you love me.” She passes you a final satiated glance, “Here, let me make it up to you. Tell me about your tattoos or something!” 
Sukuna’s quick to respond with a pinched expression, “Shut the fuck up. Stop acting like you're my girlfriend.” Then, she slams the door on your face, and you flinch from the intrusion. 
You cringe a bit, not at all liking how addressed a girl as a ‘bitch.’ If something could make you turn your head in disgust in less then a second, it’s called a girl a bitch. Except when you do it.
You glare at the door, “Bitch.” You think back to the man she addressed as Suki and add, “Asshole.” You look at the door to the right, and make your way there, twisting it and sighing in relief when it opens. 
You laugh at yourself, “Thank god..” The first thing you do isn’t change, but open one of your boxes and grab your stationary. Placing them on the vanity. You're quick to grab a quickly sticky note, scribble your name on it, and slam it on the outside of your door. 
No more accidents, and no more random hot, older brother, asshole man. 
—-
Nobara is peacefully sleeping on the couch, bundling herself in more blankets than one person needs. Her chest slowly rises and falls in a rhythmic order, you can even hear her softly snoring. The day had been draining, not only for you, but also for her, so you weren’t going to pester her to stay up and watch the crappy horror movie Yuuji picked out.
Megumi is sitting across from her on his phone. His long lashes flutter with each gentle blink he takes. He, unlike everyone in the room, seems a bit more tense. Narrowing his eyes when something unfavorable happens on screen–like a jumpscare–then quickly follows it by doing whatever on his phone. 
You have a sneaking suspicion that he’s actually really scared of the movie playing, but that’s just a hunch. 
You’re sitting next to Yuuji on the floor, actually–no, Yuuji is laying on you. While you run your hands through his pink tufts, your body is watching the movie playing, but your mind is somewhere else. Not somewhere else, on someone else. 
Yuuji opens his mouth, softly humming, “Ah.” 
You reach over his head, grabbing his pizza slice and lowering it to his mouth, allowing him to take a bite. He does, and you return it to the plate on the coffee table. Grabbing your drink and taking a sip. 
“You have a brother?” 
Your question is so quiet, it doesn’t even disturb the peace. The movie is still playing, Nobara is still sleeping, Megumi is still on his phone, and Yuuji is still laying on your lap. He looks away from the screen, his eyes boring into the bottom of your cup. 
“Yeah.” Yuuji gives you a halfhearted smile, he’s clearly uncomfortable by the topic. “He’s my older brother, I think he’s graduating next year.” He looks at the TV, then back at you, you notice how he’s holding his breath. “Did he…? Did he say something to you?” The question seems unsure. 
You shake your head, “I saw him leave his room when I finished showering.” You pass him a comforting laugh, hand running through his hair. “I thought he was you for a second, until I looked a bit closer.” You wish that was the end of it. 
Yuuji lets out a breath, nodding his head. “Good. He can be…” He sighs, looking back at the TV, “You know what, forget about it. He just sucks, so stay out of his way.” He pulls himself up, “Just stay with me, and you’ll be fine.” 
You think for a moment, wondering if you should ask Yuuji the question bubbling in your head, but ultimately decide to force it out. “Do you… not like your brother?” You ask him, sneaking a blanket from Nobara and wrapping it around your shoulders. Your hair is still a bit damp, wetting the blanket. 
Yuuji rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Does anyone like their siblings?” He leans on the couch, propping his arm up and using his hand to hold his head. “We’re just like everyone else, just a bit more… bleh.” Yuuji sticks out his tongue, and you softly laugh. 
“Gross.” You mutter, wrinkling your nose. “But, I get that. I think you’re the nicer one.” You look to the side, thinking for a moment, “Actually, wait, I think you look the nicest.” 
Yuuji laughs, “Thanks.” 
You look at Megumi, “I thought he was your roommate.” You press your lips together, “I thought I was going to be living with you two. I didn’t think it was going to be you… you know.” 
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry?” Yuuji slaps his hand over his mouth, “I totally forgot too—shit, I thought you knew…” He thinks for a moment, remembering how the two of you quite literally met today. “I—I don't know… how though. Shit, that’s so shitty of me.” 
You shake your head, “No, no. It’s okay, I should’ve asked more questions, as a roommate and as a girl. This was kinda’ my own doing for assuming things.” You laugh to yourself, “I also got swept up in the whole free housing thing.”
Yuuji laughs with you, “I would, too. That's why I agreed to move in with my brother, actually.” He rolls his eyes, “A free place to stay, is a free place to stay. Even if I have to deal with an asshole.” 
“I got that vibe from him.” You reach over to his shirt, fixing his collar to fix his neck more comfortably. “But I can’t say that to his brother.” 
Yuuji silently thanks you, before shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I could care less what you say about him. To be honest, I don’t even talk to him anymore.” He shrugs, “My room is too far away from his to really hear if he’s doing anything, too.” He laughs, “He could secretly be a murder, and I wouldn’t know.” 
You giggle, your hands moving to rest on his shoulder. You take this time to lean forward and softly kiss his head, “Thank you for letting me crash with you for a while, I really didn’t want to stay at a shady hotel.” You smile at him when pulling back, “Totally saved my ass.” 
Yuuji shakes his head, waving you off. “Stop. Don't even start. I’d do anything for my new best friend.” He loudly yawns, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “But, I’m getting tired, I think I’m going to crash.” He pushes himself off the floor, searching for the remote and turning off the TV. 
Nobara is quick to get up, one of her eyes still shut as she awkwardly says, “H-Huh, what?...” She frantically looks around, “I’ve been up.” She is quick to crash down into the pillow again, gaining a small laugh from everyone in the room. 
Megumi shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch. “I’ll take her home.” He glances at you, “Go to bed, I know you still have to set your bed up.” 
Sure, you’ve spoken to Yuuji the most this entire day, and spoken to Megumi the least, but he is genuinely your favorite out of the bunch. You pass him a quick smile, but it’s strained and full of exhaustion. “Thanks.”
Megumi just nods over his shoulder, searching for Nobara’s keys. Then, pauses, looking back at you, “Also, just a word for advice, Itadori’s brother…” He starts, “His ex would always complain about him… being really anxious at night, so just wear some headphones or… go to sleep early.”
You giggle, “I’m sure I can handle a bit of music at night.” You point at Nobara, “She used to play the weirdest shit late at night.” 
“Yeah, but I don’t think…” Megumi stops himself, “I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” But, his tone, the unsure expression he’s passing you, you can’t help but think… 
Obnoxious how?
—-
Honestly, the day could’ve been better. Way better, but it could’ve been worse, way worse. Still, you appreciate how the day has ended. Your sheets laid out and covering the mattress, your blankets and stuffies decorating your bed to make you more comfortable in your new surroundings. 
You’ve taken some time to put mostly everything in its respective place. Like the fluffy carpet, and small coffee table in the middle of the room, since you prefer to do your homework sitting on the ground. And the pictures and posters you have of friends, family, shows, and celebrities. 
The room was starting to slowly look more like home. 
You blink a few times, pressing your glasses to the bridge of your nose—something you don’t wear outside the comfort of your room—and focus on the small text in the booklet Gojo had given you. 
You can confidently say you understand what the project is asking of you, but there’s so much to do, and so little time to do it, you don’t even know where to start. You feel overwhelmed. Not only that, but finals are creeping up way too fast for your liking. 
“This is a problem for tomorrow, or… today? Whatever. It’s too late.” You whisper to yourself, shutting the booklet and leaning back on the palms of your hands. Looking at the ceiling with a blank expression. You’re tired–exhausted, it’s past twelve and starting to hit the single digits of the AM. 
You still have to catch up on all your other missing assignments due to your sudden leave. You close your eyes, pushing yourself off the ground and stretching. There only seems to be one solution to your problems. 
You reach for your computer, propping it onto your table and pulling up the show BoJack Horseman, clicking onto the first episode while scrambling around for your backpack. 
Time to pull an all-nighter.
You can still hear the music from Yuuji’s brother's room, it’s a bit quieter, but you still add a bit of volume to your computer, trying to drown out the noise. And, it’s nice for the first hour, maybe even the first hour and a half, your writing progressively getting more fit with each assignment you finish. Your eyes are feeling heavier, and BoJack’s life choices are getting dumber. 
You feel like you can fall asleep sitting up, but you jump at a small bump. Your ears perk up to the sound of… something you can’t quite put your finger on. Actually, the best way you can describe it, is if it were late at night and you stubbed your toe, yet you were desperately trying to stay quiet.
Hm. In your mind, that seems pretty spot on, yet… you’ve heard this particular nose before. It sounds familiar, really familiar. Maybe from a late-night movie, or a sound from a—
“Ah! O-Oh my god, p-please—please.” A pleasurable cry. 
It’s silent again, the sound of BoJack Horseman death to your ears. 
A shiver shoots up your spine, forcing your body to shoot itself up. Your eyes widening while your face begins to burn with embarrassment. A small whimper leaves your throat, another shiver shooting down your body, it feels electrifying. It feels dirty. 
There’s no fucking way. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Today isn’t real. You feel your face flush, ever so slightly turning your head over your shoulder to look at the wall behind you. “It’s probably just a movie..” You tell yourself. “They’re watching a weird movie.”
A gruff voice barks back, “Move your fuckin’ hand and take it.” She cries again, but it’s a bit more muffled compared to her last cry. “Or I’ll move it.” He sounds a bit pained, almost gritted when said, before a small mocking–yet, approving–laugh follows. “Yeah, you can take this dick, can’t you?”
This time, something deep within your blooms in your stomach. A fluttery, almost tingly sensation building deep in you. You feel your finger twitch, blinking at the wall, your freshly decorated bed catching your attention. 
Of course your bed is pressed right against his wall, and of course the walls are paper thin. 
Your ears perk again at the sound of a forced squeal, a scream of, “K-Kuna’.. W-wait, it feels..” But, her sentence is cut off by another moan, this time more deep and tired. What follows, makes your hips twitch. 
“Fucking amazin’? I know.” He groans under his breath, a cocky laugh leaving his mouth, “C’mon, use that dumb cunt of yours to fuck yourself on my cock.” A small bump lands on your wall, much like the sound of a head falling back on it. “Yeah, fuck. Just like that.” 
His words are filthy, and drive you a bit crazy. Your mind is clouding with ideas of… him. Kuna, Suki, that’s what she said, those are the two things she called him. Is that his name, Yuuji’s older brother? Are those her nicknames for him? 
Kuna? 
Suki?  
You hate that, you want to scold yourself over fantasizing over a stranger. You’re not fantasizing, you’re just trying to piece together what could be happening on the other side of the wall. How he looks when flushed, half-lidded and body surging with pleasure as he fucks. The noises he’s producing when spending special attention on his sensitive tip. How filthy words leave his mouth with a cocky smile, no care in the world as he tries to embarrass you–
You gasp. No, you didn’t just think that. You didn’t think about Yuuji’s older brother, a stranger, a asshole, fucking you. That’s impossible, you’re not a fiend, you’re not a pervert, and you're not thinking about how hot he looked standing over you. Looking down at you with a scowl as you suck his cock. 
Your throat bobs, your mouth salivating. The image of his veins, his happy trail, his v-line, leading down to the print in his sweatpants. You bite onto your bottom lip, lightly slightly sucking onto the skin until it’s a bit swollen. 
You mush your thighs together, turning back to the table. Closing your eyes and trying not to think about… no, you’re just trying not to think altogether. Trying to ignore how your body is burning, your panties sticking to your throbbing pussy.
“Get off–” The sentence seems a bit more quiet than before, the whole sentence not translating well to your ears. You’re thankful for that, is what your head is screaming, but your body is desperately itching to hear every dirty word he says. 
“Hands… knees.” His voice sounds strained, but still collected. 
You flinch when something bangs against the wall. It’s thankfully not hitting your wall, but it sounds incredibly close. Wait, is that?... Is he…? Is that the headboard hitting the wall? The bed lurching forward with each of his harsh thrust. 
This time, it’s far too clear for your mind to ignore her quiet sobbing, yet she mumbles small encouragement for Yuuji’s older brother to, “H-hit that.. s-spot.” Babbling profanities you weren’t previously aware of, to scream obnoxiously in your face about how good she feels. 
Then, the banging stops. A more human bump hitting the wall, followed by, “That shit’s getting on my nerves.” 
“Use a pillow, you don’t need to hold it–ah!” 
This time, you don’t hear the headboard of his bed hitting the wall. You only hear the creaking of the mattress hissing uncomfortably under the weight of two people. You wonder what he did exactly to prevent the noise. 
Press his hands above his head board onto the wall, then continue to fuck her senseless. Or, does he only have one hand pressed against the wall, only grabbing onto the top of the headboard and using it to add more strength behind each stroke. Sending the annoying girl deeper into her spiral of pleasure. 
You feel your eyes water ever so slightly… and–you may be perverse, or a dirty girl. But, you don’t care, you really don’t fucking care. Especially not when your pussy is desperate for some harsh attention, a big mean man to fuck you senseless. To spread you open and toy with your sensitive and drooling cunt. 
You… you wish that girl is you. You wish you are her. Crying over a cock that makes you feel so good, you don’t care if anyone is listening. You wouldn’t care if he was forcing you to take it to quick or hard, his hands grabbing your hips and forcing you to fuck his cock with your overstimulated pussy. 
No, stop, I have shit to do. You don’t have the time to be stupid over boys. “Where are my headphones?” You need to do work, you need to have conviction and discipline. The moment you wake up tomorrow, remembering all the things you thought about the previous night, you’re going to jump off a cliff. 
You just need some clarity, some sleep. That’s all it is, you’re exhausted, and the idea of… No, don’t even start. You softly sing the opening tune of BoJack Horseman to yourself. It may be stupid, but it keeps you concentrated on the task at hand.
You need to do homework, you are too far behind to get distracted. Even now, while desperately looking for your headphone–it’s in one of these boxes, it has to be–you’re ignoring the noises from the other room. Did you lose them? Did you really lose them the one time you actually need them? 
Fine. 
You’ll wake up early tomorrow, find your headphones, and finish your assignments. You scramble for your lights, flicking them off and diving into your bed. Your computer is still open, Netflix asking the annoying, ‘Are you still there?’ But, you’re not paying attention. 
Your eyes are shut, a pillow wrapped around your head while you’re slowly growing more annoyed. It’s so obnoxious, vulgar, rude… You don’t even know how to describe the situation Yuuji’s older brother is putting you in. 
It’s dick move. 
Wouldn’t it be common courtesy to try and be quiet. It’s such an awkward situation for you, such a weird situation to be in. It’s infuriating. A part of you wants to loudly knock on the wall and scream at them, but the other part of you wants to give Yuuji’s older brother the benefit of the doubt. 
He’s probably just unaware. 
You’ll tell ‘Kuna–hopefully his name is ‘Kuna, you really don’t know–tomorrow when you run into him. Or, tell him to be a bit more reserved, or ashamed, of what he’s doing, and how hard it is to focus on work when people are obnoxiously fucking in the room right next to you. 
Besides, you genuinely can’t stand the idea of dealing with that every single night while trying to do your work. It sounds like a pain, a hassle that will never let you sleep or study undisturbed. That’s too weird, that’s too annoying. 
But, you know the real reason. 
It’s why you’re desperately rubbing your thighs together. While trying to force yourself to sleep. 
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Next Chapter: Ch. 2 - Sexual Tension.
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faerievampling · 3 months
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A Vampire's Courage
Summary: The Dark Urge and Spawn!Astarion, after having decided to remain friends, have been traveling together after the defeat of the Netherbrain. One night, an opportunity strikes, and Astarion makes his move.
Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Dark Urge
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Oral Sex. Vaginal Fingering.
Here's the link to AO3!
It was nice to know Astarion watched you as you slept, because the nightmares never really went away. After you refused your birthright, your nightmares simply became about the nightmares that Bhaal had plagued you with. 
When you and Astarion began to travel alone, it became something you both needed just so you could rest. It reminded him of the nights you spent together: he had watched you as you slept then, too. 
You had ended things after he had to tie you up to prevent you from killing him. But the two of you remained close friends. After the battle, everyone went their separate ways: Shadowheart had her parents, Karlach and Wyll went to Avernus, Lae’zel to fight a war with Vlaakith, and Gale to his mother and tower in Waterdeep. 
But you and Astarion really only had each other. Which was okay with you. You had continued to be an adventurer, with the ultimate goal of finding a way for Astarion to walk in the sun. 
But after a few months, your need for…privacy was overwhelming. And you didn’t really know how to tell Astarion this. You thought of hiring a prostitute, one who would be gentle or sweet with you, but you certainly couldn’t trust a stranger - you used to kill strangers all the time!
No, you wanted to just be alone, to pleasure yourself as much as you’d like and get it out of your system. 
Astarion being around didn’t help, either. You had always been quite attracted to him, and nowadays, he was around you far too often with his shirt off. To see him at the fall of night, when he rises from sleep, looking so handsome and restful, was pure temptation being left at your doorstep. 
You often thought about your nights together, and you wondered if he did too. But the two of you were so close now, you thought maybe it was wrong of you. You didn’t know, you were kind of born less than a year ago. You were still figuring out the world.
After the two of you had cleaned up from a fight, you drink at the inn, as you always did. Strangers often approached you: you and Astarion were quite a sight.
“Maybe we should disguise ourselves,” You jokingly offer, taking a large sip of ale as you try to ignore the burning stare from across the room. 
“I rather like turning them down, don’t you, darling?” He asks teasingly, giving you a naughty look over his wine glass. 
You hum. “I wish I didn't have to.” You realize you’ve had too much to drink, and you fear that maybe you're forgetting the ‘some things are for private and not public’ talk Astarion had with you. 
Astarion’s eyebrows knit. “What do you mean?”
“It’s…I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s private,” You recite, trying to cue him in while also realizing when you’ve been too vulnerable, too open. 
That woman was walking over now, and she was really unsettling. Something about her, maybe it was just her looks, but even the way she handled herself: she reminded you of Kressa. and Kressa reminded you of Orin. And Orin reminded you of….every disgustingly sinful thing you could recall. It was all so vague, so random and spotty, but you knew. 
You suddenly have the urge to jump out of your skin. Astarion notices her, too, and he reaches his hand across the table, taking yours in his. “Let’s get out of here, my darling. I’m famished, and you are exactly the treat I need,” he flirts, and you know it’s his act to get you away from the approaching woman, who has now retreated upon hearing Astarion’s declaration. 
His hand is cool, but it feels nice cradled in your own. You want to interlock your fingers with his, but you think twice. Once you get to your shared room, Astarion sits beside you on your bed. 
“Better now?”
“Yes, thank you,” You say, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it, bringing your hand to mindlessly play with the ends of your hair. “Now that we’re in private, I can say whatever I’d like, right?”
“You can always say whatever you want, my dear. I just want you to be careful with who you share information with.” 
“But I can trust you.”
“Yes,” He says with conviction, his gaze soft and deep. 
But you cower under his devastating beauty. He was so handsome, and so close to you. Your mind was still on his hand and the way he had touched you; it was enough to send a shiver of arousal through your body. You felt that wetness between your thighs and you cursed at yourself because you knew that he knew.
“I don’t need to tell you. Don’t make me say it,” You turn your face away, trying to hide your rising blush from the fucking vampire, as if you could. Your heart is racing, and you wish he wouldn’t have sat so close to you. 
You look back at him as you speak. “I-I just need some privacy, is all.” 
His pupils dilate, his stare intense as he stands up. “Yes, of course, I understand,” You think he’s stumbling with his words, too. He has a familiar look on his face, like there’s something on the tip of his tongue, but he looks away from you. “And I won’t even tease you about it too much, my dear.”
You mindlessly rub your thighs together, trying to tangle with your rising heat. You think he’s about to leave, but he doesn’t move.
After a moment, “But, I could…help you. Be with you.” He turns to you, his eyes round and wet, and this was definitely not the reaction you had expected. It reminded you of when he confessed his feelings for you - and a pang of regret fills your heart. 
Astarion sits beside you again, taking your hand in his. “Don’t question this. If you want this, then just let me keep going, or I’ll lose my courage,” His voice is barely above a whisper, and his other hand slowly reaches for your jaw. 
His touch is light and curious. 
He brings his face close to yours, and you can feel the flutter of his pretty eyelashes against your skin as your eyes shut. His breath is on you, and your heart is racing. 
When you fail to stifle a moan, Astarion can’t help it any longer.
His lips meet yours decidedly, his grip on your jaw becoming just a bit tighter. His kisses are so soft, and Astarion moans when he gently pushes his tongue between your lips.
“So sweet,” Astarion breaks the kiss to whisper against your skin.
You only think about what Astarion said for a moment before his hand is trailing down your breast, undoing the laces of your shirt as you go.
Part of you wants him to stop, to slow down, because you’re afraid you’ll hurt him, or his touches will become painful, despite how featherlight they are: but none of these things happen as he frees your breasts from the clasp that keeps them from him.  
He breaks your soft kisses to eye your chest as he takes off his own shirt; and you can’t help but ogle him. But he’s doing the same to you, so you assure yourself it’s okay, that this is okay. 
“You’re so beautiful,” He places a kiss on your nipple, making you squirm in desperation. 
Astarion’s lips are on you again, and he’s pushing you back on the bed. He’s made expert work of the laces of your trousers, and he tugs them off, bringing your underclothes with them.
You’re fully naked, and feeling vulnerable - it had been a few months since you and Astarion had been together. And he was the only one you could remember.
You wonder if he even knew that. You don’t think you ever told him, but you think maybe that’s important. The thought completely disappears from your mind when Astarion brings his strong hands to spread your legs, revealing your glistening, swollen cunt. Your lips are puffy, your clit engorged, and you feel embarrassed by Astarion’s sudden examination of your sex. 
“Perfect,” He says, looking up at you as he places a kiss to your clit, a string of your juices trailing from his pretty lips. You couldn’t believe how desperate you were. His lips are on you again, his tongue lapping at your folds as he tastes you.  
Astarion is moaning against your sex, and he reluctantly pulls away from you only to finish undressing himself. Your heart is pounding wildly as you see the spring of his hardened sex, and you have nearly forgotten its size. 
Your vampiric friend doesn’t make you wait long before his lips are on your cunt again. His tongue is making slow, steady circles around your clit, and you think you might unravel beneath him right here and now. 
But Astarion must want to keep doing this with you, because he shifts his focus to your entrance. He pushes his tongue between your slick walls, meaning to taste your depths, something he had never done to you before. There was something intimate about it, something desperate and wanting, and he went as deep as his tongue would allow. 
He moved his tongue in and out of you, the sensation of his nose pressing against your clit driving you mad. 
His ruby eyes are watching you, locked on yours, and they are so unlike the other times you’d been with Astarion.
He was there. He was present, and he wanted to make you come, and he surely had other plans beyond that. 
By the time his lips wrap around your clit again, the waves of pleasure have built up, so high that every sensation of his touch sends shocks throughout your body. Every swipe of his tongue, every caress and light touch he’s leaving on your waist, your hips, your nipples: it drives you mad. Your cunt is convulsing before either of you can stop it, and you’re coming on his tongue.
Astarion releases you from his lips once you squirm away from him as he overstimulates you. 
“You’re delicious, love,” His voice is low and gruff, and gods is it sexy. “You must have a taste,“ is all he can manage before he crashes his lips into yours, fangs threatening to break the skin of your bottom lip. 
Your come is nearly tasteless, like water, and with its musk filling your nose, you understood why Astarion liked it. Suddenly, you were eager to taste his.
When one of his dexterous fingers probes your entrance, the sensation reminds you of her, you don’t even know what it is you recall, but your muscles instinctively contract after just a knuckle has entered you.
Astarion pulls away from you, eyes round with concern, pupils blown in lust. You can see how much he wants you, and Astarion is your best friend: your partner in crime. You trusted him fully.
And so, you blink away the thoughts of the past, and try to move forward. 
“More, please, Astarion,“ You moan, earning a sloppy grin from him as he gently eases two fingers into your entrance with almost no resistance. 
You can’t help but look at his strong hands and forearms as he begins to work on you, his dexterous fingers caressing that sweet spot inside of you that makes your legs tremble. You can see his veins, his muscles moving beneath his beautiful porcelain skin, and it makes it all more pleasurable.
“Like what you see?” He teases you, causing you to tilt your chin back to his face, which is arguably even more beautiful than any other inch of him: no, you think. He is just gorgeous all over. Plain and simple. 
“Yes, you’re so…” but you drift off, because Astarion is hitting that delicate spot inside you over and over, and you’re a mess. Astarion has captured your lips again, entrapping you in deep, tender kisses as you desperately clench around him, your juices flowing down his wrist and onto the bed.
“Gods above,” Astarion moans, pulling his fingers out of you before he uses your juices to wet his cock, pumping it in his fist as his eyes roam over you. “Let me give you more, darling, please.”
You aren’t sure what he means by this; you think it could be many things, or at least several things, but you aren’t good with figuring stuff out like that. By the context, you deduce that at the very least, he certainly means he wants to fuck you with his cock. 
His curls are disheveled, the tips of his hair bouncing as he thrusts into himself. His chin and nose are still wet with your juices, and you want to give him so much more. 
But you feared that if you continued on like this, if you let him fuck you, come in you, bite you, hold you, any of those things, you were seriously fucked if this was one sided. But then again, you were already so far gone. The man’s tongue had been inside you, for gods sake!
Yes, it was far, far too late for you.
Your heart was in his hand. Astarion must have seen you size yourself down; using his free hand, he tenderly cups your jaw, drawing you into a kiss that makes your heart jump in your chest. It brings back your courage.
“Please, Astarion, I want you inside of me,” You breathe against his jaw, and he moans at your words, pulling away to line himself up with your entrance. 
You feel the pressure as his tip pushes against your walls; Astarion is already a lost man, by what you can see. His eyebrows are drawn together, his eyes narrowed and focused on the sight of him pushing into you; his mouth is parted, and the tip of his fangs visible beyond his pretty full lips. 
Once he’s halfway inside you, he begins to slowly move in and out of you. He throws his head back with a sigh of relief as his pace quickens. 
“I’ve thought about this more than you know,” His words make your heart thump wildly in your chest, and he smiles at your reaction. Before he can push himself any further into you, his pace slows, and he brings his torso down to yours.
His kisses are so sweet, his tongue so gentle in your mouth, and he’s been so delicate with you, you can’t help the tears that start to fall down your cheeks. 
Astarion pulls away, his eyes locked to you as he plants a kiss to one tear and uses a thumb to swipe another. Before more tears could fall, Astarion’s pace quickens again, and his lips are planted to yours, wrapping you up in ecstasy. 
But the moment Astarion pushes deeper inside of you, he loses control, and he’s saying your name as he comes thick ropes of seed inside you. 
You sit up, giving Astarion some space to recover, as he did all the work. You sat at the edge of the bed and Astarion lay on his back. You realize you’ve totally zoned out once you feel the tips of Astarion’s fingers graze your naked back, sending a shiver through your body.
“What are you thinking?” Astarion prompts you. Surely, you can’t tell him that you are thinking you’re hopelessly in love with him and you want to spend forever with him. 
And this may have been irresponsible of you, too; you were a fertile woman, and you were a Bhaalspawn. You weren't sure about vampire fertility, or if the child would even be a Bhaalspawn considering your Father took away his essence in you. But you didn’t know. You couldn’t be sure. 
“I was thinking that was very special to me, and I was hoping you felt the same.” You thought that was pretty good and summed up your feelings well enough. Without the undying love part and the pesky fertility thing. Bah.
You hear Astarion sit up behind you. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had, love,” he says with a melancholy chuckle,”Yes, that was special to me. Everytime with you has been. You are very special to me.”
Before you can turn to face him, he wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you into him, maneuvering your back to his chest. He kisses your temple, and you close your eyes, trying to imagine a normal wedding to him rather than a Bhaalist one.
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leah-lover · 1 month
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Closed for maintenance. Leah williamson × reader.
This is part 2. I took a gamble on the ending. If you don't like it tell me so that I can change it.
PS: thank you for all the support ❤️❤️.
I woke up the next day with a painful headache. The light painfully affected my eyes as soon as I opened them. At first I didn't take in my surroundings, all I thought about was the pain. Then suddenly it all came back, the party, the drinks, Leah, the kiss. Holy shit Leah I kissed Leah. “Oh no why do I do this why the hell do I always do this. Fuck.” I cursed at myself. Then I jolted up. This is not my room, it's probably Leah's. I quickly inspected the room, no longer feeling the pain in my head as I was preoccupied with the trouble I got into. I then noticed a note that said “ good morning beautiful, come join me in the kitchen.” 
I got up to refresh my hair. I was still in yesterday's clothes, so I just tidied myself and went out to join her.
I was met with the cutest sight in the world. Leah blasting ABBA, dancing and cooking what looks like eggs. With the biggest smile on my face I said “ good morning cap.”. She embarrassed turned down the music and replied “ good morning to you sleepy head, you were drunk last night so I brought you home I am not sure if you remember “
“ I do remember everything despite the earth shaking headache I am experiencing right now.” I added, which made her nervous. 
“ Leah the pan it's burning.” I pointed out. “Shit. Oh god. What are we gonna do?” she said while putting the pan in the sink.
“ Well I guess the girls are having brunch, maybe we should join them.” I suggested, afraid of the outcome of us being alone.
“ Good Idea I am gonna go get ready you tell the girls we are coming together, I mean yeah…., not together like in the same car I guess.” She blurred out while going up the stairs.
On our way to the restaurant Leah seemed nervous, she kept fidgeting with the console not knowing what to do. I just ignored the tension and stared at the window.
Once we arrived we were greeted by Katie. “ Look who just showed up in yesterday's clothes late.” She said,
“ Katie fuck off please and thank you.”She replied, ushering me to an empty seat and pushing the chair out for me. “Such a gentleman “ said Katie, which earned her a stern look from Leah.
The conversation flew rather quickly, and the girls grew tired and started to leave one by one. After a while I was left with Leah alone.
“ We need to talk about what happened yesterday, it is eating at me.” She started, “ it , you, have been eating at me since you joined. You are one of if not the most beautiful human beings I know. You are kind, sweet, and confident. You are a leader and a good friend. I ….” She added before I stopped her when I put a finger on her mouth. 
“ I need you to listen to me Leah. I can't let this go far. I have been in a relationship with my teammate. It has ruined my career. I left Chelsea because of my relationship with Niamh. I lost friends because they were hers first. I was left alone. I like the family here at arsenal. I don't want to lose that. Plus my heart is closed. I don't want a relationship. I can't handle a relationship right now.” I said with tears falling down my cheek.
“hey it's okay. It's not gonna be like that. Here at Arsenal what is mine is theirs. We have formed a group with Katie, Caitlain, Lia, Alessia,and Steph. What is mine is theirs and vice versa. That fact is known within the team. They won't only be my friends they will be your family. You won't be isolated. If god forbid something happened. Do you understand me?” She said, nervousness was apparent  on her face.
I stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do. “ If you are not up to it that's okay.” She said, worry in her face. “ I don't know what to think. Maybe I just need to understand more.” I replied.
“ Let's go to  Katie's house, there you will understand.” She added, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the restaurant.
And right then and there a new chapter in my life began.
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alicerosejensen · 1 year
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Heyyyy hope you’re doing well!!
Please can you imagine Leon (re6) loosing his shit because they kidnapped his girlfriend and he’s like trying everything to get her back? Imagine him crying as soon as he gets to hug her again!😭
I'm fine as long as I have a laptop connected to the internet and food)
In fact, this is one of my favorite plot tropes, when someone is kidnapped, and the main character is ready to burn the whole world to the ground, but to find an expensive person.
Leon, despite his moral principles, I think he could have made many sacrifices. In particular, he would definitely lose his temper if he grabbed onto any thread to find his beloved. At least he didn't stand on ceremony with Patrizio.
Thus, there will be little left of the scoundrel who kidnapped his girlfriend.
Something constantly happens to the poor girl of Leon (either she runs away from him, or she is stolen from him). Sorry, I just love their relationship and Leon, who is ready to kill for his loved ones :D
I still know shit English, but enjoy it if you're interested.
Please read with extreme caution! There are mentions of physical violence, kidnapping and a maniac!Yandere
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Leon is a little paranoid when it comes to protecting his loved ones, so most likely he will insert some tracking device into your phone or earrings to be sure that his beloved is safe.
He tries not to violate personal boundaries, but understands that his beloved is in potential danger in relation to him. Therefore, you are under additional invisible protection.
All you need to know is that Leon is not abusing his position as a federal agent. There is no surveillance on you, it's just that if something happens, he wants to have time to prevent it before the irreparable happens (or he goes on a binge again).
His heart sinks at the thought that he may lose you for some reason. Any encroachment into your personal space by outsiders who create discomfort for you make Leon enter the defender mode (aggressive if necessary). You should be safe.
Since Leon is known to a minimum of people about Leon's love interest, the risk is minimal that you will be harmed. At least Leon considered the threat from various corporations and bioterrorists. He didn't even think about the fact that there is some bastard stealing your things.
It was some little things: pencils, hair bands, a pocket mirror, lip gloss. Yes, you said something to him about it, but maybe you just dropped them out of your backpack?
He was calm exactly until you became too nervous. It seemed that you were afraid of something and called him a couple of times with a request to meet on the way home. Leon is not one of those who will refuse, but your behavior worries him.
And when you were walking home, Leon felt your painful grip on his arm.
His main priority is your well-being. "So tell me, pretty girl, what's going on with you?" Don't think I haven't noticed this nervousness.
He will be wary when he hears that someone is following you and dragging your things. Of course you could have lost them yourself, but the chiffon scarf that Leon gave you was the last straw. In addition, you showed him the abnormal love notes that someone constantly threw into your purse.
Outwardly, it did not affect him in any way, but the stingy "I'll deal with it" means a lot. The anxiety level has increased and Leon is worried that some kind of psycho might hurt you.
He often calls and asks if everything is in order and when you need to be picked up from college. However, when you don't answer the phone, everything dies inside him.
The moment he realizes that you have been taken away, a monster wakes up in him, which can bring down hell on your abductor.
His emotional state constantly fluctuates from constant fear for your lives bordering on panic to Ustanak whose task is to find you and finish off the son of a bitch who dared to take you away from him.
"No god will help this son of a bitch when I find him."
It's sad that you lost your phone on the day of the abduction and did not put on earrings. But a nice little bracelet will save you.
are a fucking goddess.
When you wake up, of course, you will be scared. However, you will try to intimidate the criminal by saying that he is so obsessed with you in vain. "Seriously, my boyfriend will come after me and gut you" You don't think Leon will kill anyone at all, so maybe your words don't sound too confident when the kidnapper's hand is stroking your head.
Do you panic when a fucking psycho says it's some kind of date? No one here hears your screams, you can't run away because you're handcuffed. You can't even go to the toilet on your own only under his control, and this causes you a deep psychological trauma. He brings you a fucking lilac, weaving thin twigs into your hair.
"Why me?" - This is the only question that is spinning in your head when you are hysterically pulling out purple flowers, throwing them away from you. - "Am I going to die here?"
You literally go crazy from the smell of dampness and lilac. Constantly shout Leon's name as if he can hear you and immediately breaking into a loud cry, banging on the walls and the locked door.
You're clearly getting claustrophobic.
While you're suffering, Leon is trying to track the fucking signal on one of your trinkets, but he's afraid that you left that day without any jewelry at all.
Claire is definitely one of those people who can talk some sense into Leon while he's looking for you. Considering that the bug gives a bad signal (or maybe your bracelet was damaged due to the fact that you constantly pull it from nerves) from the basement and your location is difficult to track, Leon has already yelled at Chris
You feel like a frog in formalin or even some kind of toy when your abductor brings you clean clothes, which you throw back to him. It's risky to make him angry like that and you really regret it when brute force is used to force you to change clothes.
Yes, then they "take care" of you, but you are already a cornered mouse. The purple marks on your skin and the marks from the handcuffs are now a reminder of who is in charge here.
And you hate that bastard more and more. Unfortunately, you have absolutely nothing to even hit him with. The food that he brings you in plastic dishes, as well as cutlery. You try not to eat, fearing that he might have mixed something in there, but you are forced by force.
It's been three days, and Leon hasn't found you. You feel like you're starting to go crazy until you hear a muffled noise from somewhere above.
All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants
All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants
Has anyone ever told you that you are not the luckiest person?
You tried to attack from behind when they stopped stroking you. It was risky and you failed because the kidnapper reacted before you swung to strike.
You were very painfully punished, left lying on the damp floor in a terrible state, all in tears and without an evening meal.
It's been four terrible days in your life. All because you fiddled with your bracelet too much, which turned out to be thrown away quite far from the place where you were, forcing Leon to go on a false trail.
You felt terrible. It didn't take long to break you. You no longer hoped to see daylight or your loved ones, so you crawled into the farthest corner curled up in a ball and cried.
Having lost track of time due to another fit of hysteria, you did not want to pay attention to the opening door and hurried steps in your direction.
Preferring not to pay attention to your enemy, you became even more hysterical when he tried to turn you around to face him, affectionately calling you "angel".
That's what infuriated you. But when you opened your eyes in another attempt to attack, you froze in disbelief at your own eyes. Have you already gone crazy in this place? So fast, or was Leon really in front of you?
His light blue eyes were dark. Not as bright as usual, but maybe it's because of the lighting… Strong hands carefully examined your body for the number of bruises.
You looked away in the direction of the open door - your freedom, but you felt Leon's fingers gently tracing over your split lips.
You've never seen such quiet hatred before. You were shivering from the cold, feeling that tears were still flowing down your cheeks, and tried to snuggle up to Leon in search of protection and warmth.
But Leon himself pressed you to him, slightly lifting up his T-shirt, checking for underwear. You flinched, and then you heard a single question when you grabbed his back with both hands, pressing your head against his chest.
"That son of a bitch…" - Leon gritted his teeth, still looking at your stolen things on the floor. - "I'll kill him"
The fuse clicked.
Leon took off his jacket, putting it on you (with great difficulty, because you did not want to interrupt close contact with him), and then easily picked up in his arms, like a small child, carrying out of this basement. You closed your eyes just to not see anything else. Leon's scent worked better than any strong sedative, and you wanted him not to let you go anymore.
So small. Defenseless. Bruised all over. He will kiss you on the temple, looking at the sprawled bastard with such a look that it will be clear how it will end. Leon will hand you over to Claire, despite your growing hysteria over the loss of hugs, and do what he has planned.
It's going to be pretty bloody. He expressed some regret about Patricio, but Leon will never forgive someone who hurt you, leaving a scar on your soul. So he'll empty the whole clip on him.
Because of this, he will have some problems, but you are the priority. You will undergo a full examination at the hospital, where Leon will be reassured (partially) that your violence ended with beatings. In general, there are no physical injuries, but both Leon and Claire understand what condition you will be in.
He will take care of you. Try to do everything so that you don't remember that four-day nightmare. He will find a good therapist, but if your brain decided to erase these memories on its own, a kind of protective reaction to stress, then it will even calm him down.
Leon understands the reason for your detached behavior. He is glad that you are not afraid to let him near you, thereby subconsciously making him your shield. he's ready to be one before you start trusting people again.
No one heard it, but Leon was really crying quietly when it was over. You were sleeping after taking a sedative dose, and he was sitting in the bathtub thinking only that he could not save you faster.
He won't touch you once again for fear of triggering some kind of trigger, but in your head it is Leon the hero savior. Therefore, if you are looking for protection in him, then it's even good, because this is how he hopes to redeem himself before you.
In the end, you are faced with dissociative amnesia. You realize that something terrible has happened, but you have a lapse in memory. Leon will be the one who will start distracting you from your memories by persuading you not to remember. He really considers it a gift of fate and will go out of his way so that you don't touch this moment of life at all, leaving him behind a black curtain.
And yet one day he burst into tears clutching to his chest. While you sleep next to him feeling completely safe, Leon will need to hug you tightly and come up with better ways to protect you. He feels guilty that he did not save you and this feeling of guilt will gnaw at him for a long time.
"I'm sorry… sweetheart, I'm so sorry… - what you hear in your sleep. - "Never again…no one will hurt you. Never."You don't remember a damn thing, but you're scared because Leon is crying kissing the top of your head.
He won't let anyone else take you away.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month
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the pained peace treaty
fused with the foe, chapter one
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a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.
summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury
word count: 4813
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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”
“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”
A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”
Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”
“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”
“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”
Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”
“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 
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Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 
Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 
As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 
You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 
A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 
“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 
Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”
Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”
“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”
When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”
“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”
“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”
“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”
You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”
Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”
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“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 
Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”
“Yes, your highness?”
“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”
“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”
As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 
Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 
Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 
Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 
“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.
“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 
“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”
“What did you expect?”
Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 
Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 
The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 
Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”
“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.
“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”
Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”
He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 
Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 
Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 
Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 
“Hey, Barnes?”
Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”
“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”
“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”
“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”
“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 
Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”
Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”
Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 
“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 
“Of course, your highness.” 
“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”
Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”
“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”
“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”
“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.
Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”
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With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 
A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 
You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 
The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 
The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 
Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 
“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 
Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 
And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.
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The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 
As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 
When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 
“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 
Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 
“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”
A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”
It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 
Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 
The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 
But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 
The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 
“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 
“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 
Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 
“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 
When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.
First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”
Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 
His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 
“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”
“Oh…” was all he breathed. 
“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 
“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”
“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 
A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”
Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”
Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 
Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?
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