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#but. I thought. I thought we were getting new content :((
tonycries · 2 days
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Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.
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Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)
A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.
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You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 
And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 
We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…
What? 
No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.
You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”
Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 
Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 
You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 
Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.
You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.
Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-
“Oh? Still open?”
“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 
And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?
“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”
“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”
You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”
Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”
Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”
“Congratulations, Mr…”
“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 
You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”
“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”
What?
You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”
“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”
There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”
Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”
Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”
“...you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”
“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”
And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 
“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”
That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 
And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 
You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”
---
And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 
“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”
“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.
You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”
Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 
“Alright. Plan B, then.” 
Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”
Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”
At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”
“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”
“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”
It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 
“Fine.”
The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”
And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”
He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.
Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 
And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 
You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”
“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 
“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”
Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”
With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 
“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 
Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”
You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 
“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”
That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.
“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”
It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 
“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”
Your home, for the next month. At least. 
And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 
“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 
“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 
“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”
It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 
“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 
Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”
And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.
“Ichiji.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”
“Of course, young master.”
---
Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 
Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.
Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…
“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 
Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”
“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”
He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 
Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”
At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”
“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”
He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”
“For the divorce.”
And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.
You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 
“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”
And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 
You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 
But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.
The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”
Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”
“Only for you.”
Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.
Stammering out, “Corny.”
“Only for-”
“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 
Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 
Gathered here - for you. 
Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 
“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”
My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”
It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.
He wins.
“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 
You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.
It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.
Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 
Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”
You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”
“A waitress, she said?”
“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”
“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”
The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”
“Mother, be quiet or-”
“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”
Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 
Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”
Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”
“My wife and I are leav-”
“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 
Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.
His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”
Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 
“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 
“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 
He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 
“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”
What the fuck happened?
He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 
Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.
“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 
“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”
You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”
That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.
---
“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 
The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 
You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”
He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.
“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 
And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.
---
Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 
The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 
But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 
“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.
Something else also happened - something different.
Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-
“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”
Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”
The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 
“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 
You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”
And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 
Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 
Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 
Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 
“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”
Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 
Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 
“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”
Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.
 Were you going insane?
Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”
“Thinking of me?”
Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 
“Satoru?”
His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.
Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”
A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”
Run away. Run away. Run away-
There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 
“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 
You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”
“So go with me instead.”
“What if-”
“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 
Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  
It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-
And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 
“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.
“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”
He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 
“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 
“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”
He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 
But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 
And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”
“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.
“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 
Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”
You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.
“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”
Rip! 
The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 
Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”
“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”
“You’re awful.”
“And yet you married me.”
With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”
You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 
Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”
You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 
And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?
Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-
“Sh-shit. Toru-”
“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 
He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-
“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 
“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”
“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”
“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”
One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 
“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.
And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 
Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 
“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”
And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 
“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 
“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 
And he sees right through you.
“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 
Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.
“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s���too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 
And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.
“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”
You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 
Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 
“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 
You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.
And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 
“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”
You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”
“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”
“All yours, Toru.”
And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.
With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 
“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”
Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be. 
You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 
“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 
“Close?” 
“Mhm…”
“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”
And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.
Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.
And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 
You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 
And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 
Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”
“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”
Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”
“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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sincerelyyuu · 2 days
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hidden affections • itadori yuji
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after moving to a new school, you quickly gain the affections of a mystery admirer. ➼ pairing: itadori yuji x gn!reader ➼ content/tw: sfw, secretadmirer!yuji, tooth rotting fluff, no curses au, yuji is basically a lovesick puppy and is whipped for reader ➼ wc: 2K words ➼ a/n: desperately in need of some cute yuji content! likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡
Growing up, there weren't many people that Yuji found interesting enough to date. People seemed to gravitate towards his friendly and outgoing personality so making friends came easy to him. Even then, there wasn’t anyone that really caught his eye. Of course, he had his preferences (Jennifer Lawrence being one of them), but no one that he considered passing the threshold of friendship with.
That is until he met you.
Nobara had mentioned a new student was transferring into their class. It was a little unexpected considering it was the middle of the school year, so he was curious as to who this person was. When you first stepped into the classroom, Yuji felt the breath knock out of his lungs.
He always thought the idea of falling in love at first sight was so cheesy and something that only happened in movies. Yet suddenly all of those love songs on the radio made sense. You were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He hadn’t realized he was staring until Nobara shoved an elbow into his side, snickering at the way his jaw snapped shut from the way it hung open. Meanwhile, you stood at the front of the class, doing your best to smile despite your nerves at all the attention on you.
“This is (y/n). They’ll be joining us for the remainder of the school year. They just moved here, so please do your best to make them feel welcome,” the sensei introduced before turning to you. “You may take a seat.”
Bowing in respect to the teacher and then once more to your new classmates, you briefly scanned the room. You decided to take a seat next to a pink haired male who waved hello enthusiastically to you, already feeling your nerves dissipate from his cheery demeanor.
“(y/n), right? I’m Itadori Yuji,” he greeted with a grin.
“It’s nice to meet you, Itadori,” you returned his smile, pulling the supplies out of your bag to get ready for the lesson. “I like your hair. It kind of reminds me of strawberry milk.”
The words leaving your lips before you could stop them, you looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, was that weird to say?”
Yuji laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at your thoughts on his hair. “No, it’s fine. I haven’t heard that one before but thanks, I guess.”
“If you want, my friends Fushiguro, Kugisaki and I can show you around. I wouldn’t mind-, I mean, we wouldn’t mind,” he offers, quickly correcting himself and silently cursing himself for lamely stumbling over his words.
Thankfully, you didn’t seem to catch it and nodded your head eagerly, “I’d like that a lot.”
Just like that, you found yourself hanging out everyday with this trio of friends who accepted you into their group with open arms. There was rarely a day where you weren’t with them, be it group study sessions in the library or outside of school going on convenience store runs. Among this group, you naturally became closest with Yuji who always made you feel welcomed.
Meanwhile for Yuji, what started as innocent interest quickly evolved into a full blown crush on you. He was drawn to your bubbly and sweet nature and like a moth to a flame, his heart followed you. He found himself thinking of you all the time, wondering about what you liked or what you were up to. Wondering if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.
It was the little things that sent his heart racing. One random day, his number two pencil had rolled off his desk. Leaning down to grab it, his hand brushed against yours feeling the soft skin of your hand against his fingers. You were a step quicker than him and grabbed the pencil first, placing it back on his desk.
“Thanks,” he expressed, doing his best to fight back the rush of heat to his face.
You merely waved him off nonchalantly in an effort to tell him not to worry about it. After that, Yuji would purposely drop his pencils often in class, timing it so that his hands would brush against yours every time. You joked with him about how clumsy he was when in reality, his hand would tremble as it yearned to hold yours.
Yuji never had a problem with expressing himself to others. However, when it came to you, it was like his brain immediately turned to mush. All of his thoughts fly out of his head the minute you're on his mind. 
“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” Megumi asks him a different day. 
“What if they don’t feel the same way?” Yuji whines, plopping his head onto his folded arms on his desk. “It would be so embarrassing if they rejected me.”
“You don’t know unless you try,” his friend replies, mildly amused by the distress on Yuji’s face. “Besides, I’m surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”
Raising his head, Yuji looks at him in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”
Megumi rolls his eyes. “You literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at them.”
Did he really? He couldn’t help it. Every time you walked into the room, it was like all he could see was you. The way your eyes light up whenever you wave hello to him. The crinkle of your nose whenever you laugh at something funny he said. Your voice dripping with honey every time you spoke to him. You were absolutely captivating to him.
“Look, I’m just saying that there are other ways to let them know your feelings,” the spiky haired teen suggested cryptically with the gears turning in Yuji’s head as he thought over his best friend’s advice.
The next day, you and Nobara were aimlessly chatting about plans for the weekend. When you walked into class, you were surprised to see a red and brown box sitting on top of your desk. Upon further inspection, you saw it was a pack of chocolate Meiji Hello Panda cookies, your favorite childhood snack.
“Whatcha’ got there, (y/n)?” Nobara asks as she throws her bag to the floor and slips into her desk beside yours.
“Cookies,” you answered and held up the box to her. “Did you see who left these here?”
The ginger shrugged, “Wasn’t from me. Is there a name?”
Taking a closer look at the box, you couldn’t find a sender name. Instead you found a tiny strawberry sticker pasted on the front. Why would someone leave you this on your desk? As if answering your thoughts, Nobara leaned in with a cheeky grin.
“Looks like someone has a secret admirer~,” she teases.
You shook your head at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. Maybe someone is just being nice?” you tried to reason with her.
“Oh, definitely. That’s exactly why I have a box of treats sitting on my desk, too,” Nobara sarcastically retorts and gestures to her empty desk. 
You shoved her shoulder playfully with a laugh, opening the box and shaking a couple of the shortbread pandas into her awaiting hand. Hearing a chair screech on your opposite side, you turned to see Yuji looking at you with expecting eyes.
“Hi, Itadori!” you greeted, holding out the box to him. “Want some? Someone really sweet left these for me on my desk today.”
“O-Oh, really? That was nice of them,” he stammered in response.
He stretched out his hand and let you drop a couple of the pieces onto his palm, crumpling the convenience store receipt with the name of the snack inside of his hoodie pocket.
Satisfied with how the first time went, Yuji started leaving anonymous tokens of affection at your desk every day. A single stem of your favorite flower (which he found out through Nobara who had a field day when he told her of his crush on you). A bag of candies as sweet as you. A cute bunny keychain that he won at the local arcade (and spent way too much money to get) that reminded him of you. Each time he would wake up extra early to make sure he was the first one to get to class to leave his little gift. 
Feeling a bit braver, Yuji also began writing love notes to you to slip into your locker. Just little one liners onto torn notebook paper of things he wished he could say to you but didn’t have the courage to say to your face.
“Seeing your smile is enough to brighten my whole day.”
“You are my sunshine on my darkest days.”
“Do you understand how amazing you are?”
With every passing day, you wanted so badly to find out who your secret admirer was. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start to develop a crush on them back. How could you not when they were clearly trying hard to convey their feelings for you in the most endearing way?
The only clue you had was that same strawberry sticker that accompanied each gift and note. You did feel guilty that this mystery person was spending all this time and money on you without getting anything in return. The curiosity was starting to become unbearable.
So, you made up your mind. You were going to find out who this person was whether they were ready or not.
Waking up just as the sun was rising, you hurriedly got ready and made your way to school. Walking through the empty hallways, you stopped just as you were a step away from the door of your homeroom, careful to avoid being seen through the class windows. Your heart accelerated once you heard footsteps inside the classroom. They were already here. Inhaling deeply to steady your rapid heartbeat, you slid open the door.
“...Itadori?” you gasped.
The tall teen looked at you with wide eyes, unceremoniously dropping the adorable shiba dog plushie on your desk. He felt a panic rise in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be here yet. What were you doing here? 
Wracking his brain on what to say, he ultimately sighed. Turning to face you, he rubbed the back of his head bashfully, “You finally caught me. It was me.”
You felt your heart grow warm at finally matching a face to all the gifts and the love notes. To think it was your friend Yuji this entire time. As you studied the male, your eyes gravitated up to his strawberry pink locks. 
Strawberry. The strawberry sticker. You finally connected the dots. It was his way of telling you it was him and you didn’t even realize it.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned softly. Walking up to the tense male, you saw him gulp as you stopped in front of him, looking so nervous and utterly adorable.
Yuji gave a half hearted laugh before replying, “Would you think I’m lame if I told you I was afraid to?"
"You just make me so nervous. I really like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but I didn’t know how to say it without ruining our friendship. I wanted to give you an out in case you didn’t feel the same.”
Picking up the plushie, he tentatively held it out to you. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the way you accepted it and held it to your chest affectionately.
“Yuji,” you gently beamed up at him. “Can I call you that?”
Yuji swore he died and went to heaven upon hearing you say his first name. Cheeks flushing, he nodded fervently. He felt his breath hitch when you leaned up to press a kiss to his reddening cheek.
“Thank you for everything,” your voice full of gratitude as you stared into his fawn colored eyes. “For the record, I really like you, too.”
Feeling a sudden wave of confidence, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally take you on a date?” he asks, his cheeks aching from how widely he was smiling. 
Hiding your face behind the plushie in your hands, you peered up through your lashes at him with twinkling eyes. Too cute, Yuji thought.
“Just say the word and I’ll be there,” you promised.
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DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER
Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?
Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…
Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)
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“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.
Peter Parker. Bullseye.
You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.
It was too close to yours for your liking.
“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.
“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”
“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.
For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.
Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.
“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.
“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.
You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.
You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.
“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”
He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.
—————————————————————————
It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.
The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.
Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?
Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).
Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.
You: Who is this?
Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.
You: I think you have the wrong number.
You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.
Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?
You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.
Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?
Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.
You: How did you even get my number anyways?
Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)
Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.
You: I’m sure.
Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?
You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.
Peter: You’ll regret that pips.
You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.
Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.
————————————————————————————
It was disappointment.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.
Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.
Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.
Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.
Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.
“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.
“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”
“Two papers and exam prep. You?”
“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.
He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.
“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.
“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.
Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.
Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.
You were so incredibly fucked.
———————————————————
You took a deep breath. Then another.
You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.
You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.
All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.
You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.
Fuck it.
You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.
You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.
How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.
“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.
“I was admiring the greenery.”
“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.
He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.
“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.
You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.
“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.
Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.
Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.
“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”
He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.
You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.
You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.
“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.
“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.
You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.
“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”
His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”
Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.
“Don’t start with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.
“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”
“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.
“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.
“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”
You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.
“Elaborate Parker.”
He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”
You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.
“Hmm. I like it.”
“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.
“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”
He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”
You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”
“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”
You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.
He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.
“You’re gross Parker.”
“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”
You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.
“Whatever you say pip.”
“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.
—————————————————————
A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.
Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.
“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.
“Some research paper. Here.”
You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.
Fuck.
He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.
He was still staring.
Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.
You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.
“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”
“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.
He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.
“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.
“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.
You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?
You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.
Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.
“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”
His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.
“How much more?”
His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.
Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.
Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.
You hated that you found it hot.
He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.
“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.
“I won’t. Will you?”
“I might.”
His smile grew.
“ I still hate you, you know.”
“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.
A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?
Because he was so fucking fine.
A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.
You’d do anything to hear it again.
“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.
“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”
“Mhm. But you hate me.”
He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.
Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.
“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.
Yes. Yes, please.
“You’re killing me.”
“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.
Until he just… stopped.
Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?
“Parker?”
He smiled coyly.
“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.
“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”
“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.
“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.
Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.
“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.
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sarawritestories · 1 day
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Unwavering Presence Chapter 13
Cassian X Archeron Sister
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Summary: Cassian won't leave Y/N alone in hopes she will at least talk to him, giving her the best gifts money could buy. Perhaps material things are not the way to earn her forgiveness...
Content Warnings: Low self worth
A/N: We're kicking off the 1000 Follower Celebration with a bang!! WOO HOO. I once again can't Thank you enough for your love and support!
Also, we are getting so close to a portion of the story that I have been plotting since day one and I'm so excited. Though I highly doubt you all will be when we get there.
Word Count: 4.3 K
Also thanks @prythianpages for giving me a new banner to use 😍😍
1000 Follower Celebration Masterlist
Unwavering Presence Masterlist
Chapter 12
I awoke to knocking on my door fully aware of who was on the other side. Not moving I tucked the blanket closer to my chin, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping he would leave. When I didn’t answer, the doorknob began to jostle, “Princess, can we talk please?” Cassian’s voice carried through the wood. “I want to make this right.” He continued to knock on the door.
I closed my eyes and sent my emotions down my tattoo; my direct link to Rhys. Hoping he and Feyre were on their way back from the Summer Court.
Cassian’s knocking finally ceased, and I could breathe easier. Inhale…Exhale…
Angel Rhys’ voice rang out in my head, What’s wrong?
Tears prickled my eyes as Cassian’s cold stare from the night before came to the forefront of my mind, “You can barely take care of yourself.” His words rang in my ears.
Can you or Az get me?   I sniffled.
Why? Did something happen to Cassian? Are you in Danger? Rhys’ voice sounded panicked.
Take a look I brought the memories from the night before for him to see.
Me or Az?  Was all he asked; his voice was a lethal calm.
Az, Please.
He is on his way, Angel. I want you to know no one thinks you’re helpless. We love you.
I cracked a smile. Thanks Rhys.”
Rhys left my mind, and I closed my eyes and let sleep consumed me once more.
The sound of shouting jolted me awake. It took me a moment to distinguish the yelling. It was Azriel’s voice that carried throughout the cabin. He. Was. Angry. I slid out of bed, grabbed my robe and opened my door just enough to peek through.
“You’re not taking her!” Cassian snarled his siphons blaring. His face held a mixture of emotions I didn’t care to decipher.
Azriel’s siphons flared in response. “She asked for me. This is Rhys direct order. I’m taking her home.”  Cassian swung at the Shadow Singer only for Azriel’s shadows to flair out and push him to a chair.
I stepped out of the room as shadows pinned Cassian to the chair. “Azriel.”
Both males looked over at me Cassian had a pained look on his face and opened his mouth to speak. Az’s shadows wrapped over his mouth as Azriel glared at him. “You don’t get to speak.” Cassian lunged at Azriel, and I jumped back gasping. Cassian slammed back in the trail trying to fight Azriel’s shadows and I moved closer to the Spy Master. His hand slipped through mine and Cassian glared as his hazel eyes, cold and unyielding as he watched our hands intertwine.
Always hoping someone will save you. Cassian’s words swirled in my head and when our gazes meet, I can tell that he knows what words are filtering through my head, as his gaze shifts from cold to guilty. I tried releasing Azriel’s hand, but he gripped tighter. “She is going to gather her things and we are going to leave.” Cassian dipped his head, “Rhys expects you home in three days’ time. Meaning that he does not want to see you until then. Nod if you understand, Cassian.”  Cassian gave a nod. “Good.” Azriel led me to my room, and he shut the door, and I closed my eyes my heartbeat racing. My thoughts began to overtake my senses.
Weak
Pathetic
Worthless
You don’t belong with him. You don’t belong with anyone.
You. Don’t. Belong.
I choked on a sob leaning against the bed post. Shadows swirling up to my cheeks, kissing away my tears.
“Come on,” I opened my eyes as Azriel’s hands gripped my shoulders, “Let’s get your things.”
Azriel helped me pack my things, I slipped out to the door and headed back to Cassian. Hearing the chair shift as I headed toward the door the Shadow Singer in tow, calling out my name, though muffled by the shadows. Azriel opened the door, letting the sun in and I turned to look at Cassian. His hazel eyes lined with silver, there was pleading there. Don’t go, please, they said.
“Goodbye, Cassian.” A sob escaped and his shoulders began to shake violently as tears streamed down his cheeks. Something felt heavy against my chest, and I had to battle the urge to go to him and wipe his tears. Azriel guided me outside and shut the door behind him, muting the sounds of the General of the Night Court’s Army’s cries.
Wrapping my arms around Az’s neck he grips my waist my bag in his other hand, and he shot us up to the sky. “You, okay?” He asked.
“I just want to go home.” I said, fighting off my own tears. Az shadows consume the two of us as he winnows us to the streets of Velaris. He put me down but gripped my hand as he led us to the town home. The sidra glistening against the morning sun. I instinctively leaned my head against his arm, trying not to focus on the male we left behind.
We walked in silence for a couple beats before nudged me with his shoulder. “You know for what its worth. I know he is remorseful.”
I rolled my eyes, “How could you possibly know that?”
Az smirked, “He could have easily broken away from my shadows. Had them skittering back to me without blinking an eye.” I lifted my head to meet his eyes. His hazel eyes held no hint of humor. “He is one of the most powerful Illyrian, Archeron.”
We reached the town home, and I gripped his elbow halting him in his tracks. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he chose to stay in that chair.” Azriel’s shadows swirled around my wrist. “He didn’t want to frighten you.”
I crossed my arms, “That’s not good enough.”
Azriel lips pressed in a tight line for a moment. “I know. I would be disappointed in you, if it was enough for you.” He cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead, “Make him suffer, Archeron.”
I gave him a smile, “I’ll make him the Lord of Tears Shed.”
Azriel barked a laugh, “I’m stealing that.”
“Go for it.” I smiled as we headed into the house.
“Rhys, Feyre and Amren are almost back.” Az gracefully changed the subject.
“Were they successful?”
Az’s face turned grim, “Yes.”
“But?”
“But it came at a price.”
I sighed, “It always does. How bad?”
Azriel smiled, “Let’s just say Cassian isn’t the only one banned from the Summer Court anymore.”
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Cassian’s POV
A fist collided with my cheek while I was at the training ring, Rhysand’s ring digging into my skin. Blood pooled in my mouth the metallic taste assaulting my taste buds. “You called her weak.” I lifted my head for Rhys to hit another blow on the opposite cheek. Blood spattered on the rock as it sprayed out of my mouth. “You called her worthless.”
I snarled, “I never called her that. I would never call her that!”
It was Azriel’s voice that spoke next, “That’s exactly how she felt though!  She opened up to you about her deepest insecurities, things she hadn’t even told Feyre about!  You used that insecurity and threw it back in her face.” Azriel’s flickered with anger, his shadows swirling around him clearly agitated.
“You know who also does that, Cassian?” Rhys’ voice is calm as my gaze meets him. At that moment, Rhysand was not the High Lord, or my friend. He was being a protective brother. “Nesta. She has spent most of her life with that kind of torment. I would believe that Xavier did it too.” He wound up his arm and felt the crunch of my nose. “Feyre told me that she kept to herself. That she doesn’t trust easily. She trusted you. For whatever reason, you made her feel safe.” I could hear one of my ribs cracking. “Why?”
I fell to my knees, “I was angry.” I hang my head low, blood dripping on the concrete. “Devlon got under my skin, and I was pissed.” My breathing was labored. I went straight to my room to prevent myself from lashing out, but she followed me.” The tears could fall before I could stop them. “She wanted to help.”
“And then you said she was barely able to help herself.” Rhys roared. “That she was always waiting for one of us to help her.” He knelt and gripped my face tightly. “Imagine how she feels, in a place where most fae hate her kind. Imagine how she felt when the first time she went back to the one place she should feel safe in, she was taken. She absolutely should expect us to be there for her. Because should any of our enemies get to her, she may not actually stand a chance.”
“I know.” I wheezed. “I want to make this right.”
“Go to Madja and get healed.” Rhys said, his violet eyes cold.  “I still need my general to breathe.” With that he took to the skies, likely checking in on Y/N. Leaving me alone with my best friend. His face cold, no playful glint in his eyes.
Azriel stalked over to me, his face was one I’ve seen before; one he used on his for the poor souls in his dungeons. I dipped my head, blood dripping past my lips. Az gripped my hair yanking my head back to meet his gaze. His shadows swirled as his lips turned into a snarl. “Fix. It.” He tugged my hair harshly once more. “And pray to the mother that she forgives you.” His knee collided with my chest, the underlying threat clear as I collapsed to the harsh gravel, trying to regain my breath. As Azriel left me in the training ring with my thoughts.
 I tried to take a deep breath the searing pain of my abdomen screamed in response. This was what I deserved. No pain would ever compare to seeing Y/N’s eyes look so broken at my words. I had a plan I just hoped she would hear me out.
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Rhysand had other plans. “I’m not arguing with you about this.” My brother crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “You’re going.”
I clenched my fist. “How can I fix things if Y/N is here and I’m dealing with her insufferable sister.”
“She won’t even be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes. You can make your sad attempts at forgiveness when you return.”
I slammed my fist on his desk, “You’re a prick. You know that.”
“Watch it, brother. I could ban you from seeing her at all.” Rhys’ voice was even, his voice void of any emotion.
“You wouldn’t do that.” I whispered. “You know how much she means to me.”
Rhysand stood placing his palms on the desk in front of him eyes dark. “You want to wager on that?” I remained silent and his words softened, “As much as I want you to fix this. I need my General right now. I’m not saying this to hurt you, Brother, but she doesn’t need you right now.”
I pressed my lip in a tight line. “Fine.” I turned to walk away. I opened the door.
“Cass, she will come around you know?” I walked out the door leaving his question unanswered and took off to human lands. Though the hairs on the back of neck tingled, unease coiling in my belly, as I had the sense someone was staring at me. I wouldn’t turn to see Mor’s smug face.
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I met Nesta’s cold stare with one of my own. She had let me in without so much as a glance only to lead me into the dining room. “Where’s Elain?”
“In her garden. I’m trying to limit her time with…your kind.” I may have towered over the eldest Archeron sister, but she had a gift of making people feel small with just the tilt of her head. On this day Nesta wore a beautiful blue gown, and her hair was braided in her usual style. Yet my mind kept drifting to her baby sister and how similar they look. The way they stand, the same scowl that scrunches up their nose.
“Has your brutish ways impacted your hearing as it has your brain?” My wings rustled as I returned my gaze to the eldest Archeron, “I asked how my sisters were.”
I rolled my eyes. “They’re fine.”
Nesta quirked a brow, “Oh yeah, Y/N giving you a hard time?”
I stilled, “What makes you say that?”
Nesta smirked, “You have the same look most people have when she’s being difficult.”
“She’s not difficult.” I tried to focus on my breathing, remembering the vile things she said to her sister the first time we met. “If anything, I’m the one who made things difficult.”
Nesta lowered her arms and stared at me, her cold gray eyes searching my face. “You love her?” I snorted and to my surprise that took Nesta off guard. “What is loving a human such an outlandish thought to you?” her lips curled upward in a snarl.
I shook my wings and my body and eased my body and mind into something calm, thinking of Y/N’s hand in mine or who beautiful smile. “No, not outlandish for me at all. No what is outlandish to me is the fact you have spent years treating her so terribly and yet here you are asking if she’s okay and if I love her, when even if you did love her, you will never tell her as much.
I approached the woman her back pressing against the wall, “Tell me Nesta, do you know what happened that night you asked her to die?”
Nesta’s eyes widened, as if she too was recalling the memory. “You almost got your wish that day. She almost died. I found her strung up like an animal, her blood was everywhere. We barely made it in time. I could see Nesta paling as I continued. “Did you know the lover she took here got off on torturing her even assaulted her?”
“How dare you-“
“Did. You. Know.” I gritted my teeth my arms caging Nesta in so she couldn’t avoid this. “Did you know that this man had been using her as a doll for months using her job as leverage to get her to stay? Only for her to come home and want love and affection from her sisters only to find disdain and despair here.”
Nesta face looked pain only for a moment before her cool mask slipped back into place. “No, I didn’t and it’s not my place to know what type of lovers my sisters make. I’m sure if he was in high standing to help us get out of poverty, she would have made do.”
I stepped away from her. “Unbelievable. You would have subjected Y/N to a death sentence if you made her stay with him. You didn’t see the cuts on her back like I did. If you had it maybe you wouldn’t be so calm and serene about it.”
Nesta stepped away from the wall smoothing her skirts walking over to the desk in the living room. She opened the drawer to quickly shut it and turned back to me with an envelope in her hand. “They wish to meet in a weeks’ time.” Nesta eyes were glassy, but the fiery rage remained. “Be here in that time. Now. Get Out.”
I snatched the letter from her hand, “You are a disgrace. You failed in every way that counts, Nesta Archeron.” I walked past her heading for the door. I called over my shoulder, “And yet Y/N is the first person to come to your defense or speak of you as someone who needs healing. You never deserved her as your sister.” And with that I left, and I swore I heard a choked sob before I took to the skies.
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Reader’s POV
Cassian had been home for a week. I had managed to avoid him by training with Azriel, studying with Rhysand and using his own brothers as shields if he got too close. Both Rhys and Az were happy to oblige in keeping me close and occupied. Then the gifts began appearing at my door.
Chocolates, Jewels, Shoes, by the end of the week the stack of Journals came to my hip. They all went unanswered. The boxes began to collect dust, the chocolates went stale, and the jewels suspiciously went missing after day two. Something tells me a short black-haired female was the culprit of that. Though nothing Cassian could buy with money would not be able to sway me to forgive him. Not after he hurt me in such a deep way.
Feyre walked into my room with a box in her hands at the start of the week, we had been able to spend more time together since the fiasco at the cabin, reading in the library, sharing meals together, walking through the streets of Velaris. It felt like the times before we lost our fortune when it was me and her against the world, I hadn’t realized how much I missed just being in her presence until we started spending more time together. “This was at your door.”  She said shaking the box. She plopped on my bed dropping the box onto my lap. “Open it!”
I sighed, putting my book down, I untied the ribbon and open the lid, with a note.
Princess,
Please accept this gift as my apology to you.
I miss you.
Cassian.
Handing Feyre, the note, I began unwrapping the paper to find a gorgeous red silk gown I picked it up out of the box. Feyre smiled and nudged me, “Try it on.” Facing her I opened my mouth to protest and was met with her pushing me off the bed. “Right now.”
A few moments and I emerged from the changing partition and Feyre gasped. “Y/N… you look so beautiful.” I walked over to the mirror and turned to get a full view. The bodice of the gown, being held up by thin straps, had glittered fabric covering just enough that the swells of my breast were on display. Rich Silk overlapped meeting the sheer fabric covering my abdomen, red boning standing out against the flesh tone. The red satin draped down ruching at my hips as it cascades down a revealing slit to reveal my newly toned and muscled leg. I had to agree with Feyre.
The dress was stunning, but I recalled the note left with it and I pursed my lips.
Are you that incompetent of taking care of yourself? His voice echoed in my mind.
 “He called me worthless. Did he believe that that him buying me this was going to make me fall to my knees and forgive him.” I rolled my eyes and went back to change out of the dress. “Didn’t even hand me this gift himself, had to leave it at my door like a coward.” I mumbled sliding the rich fabric off my body and back into my purple dress with light lavender tulle sleeves. I walked over to the bed to place the dress back into the box.
“What are you going to do with the dress?” Feyre questioned not seeming to have an answer for my earlier inquiries.
“Keeping it. The dress is gorgeous and fits me like a glove. The dress will not suffer because the male who gifted it, is incompetent.” I sighed and crawled into bed placing my head on my twin’s lap where she instinctively fingers through my hair. “This isn’t enough.”
Feyre hummed and we sat in silence for a moment. “What would it take for him to earn that forgiveness?” I glance up at her and her blue eyes meet mine, “Is what happened unforgivable to you?”
I thought about it. Cassian up to this point had been nothing by kind and attentive to me. What he said was said at a moment of anger and if I was honest, I pushed when I should have let him be. However, that did not give him a right to throw my past and my insecurities back in my face the way he did. “No. It’s not. Not for him anyway.This dress or the other gifts for that matter, doesn’t tell me that this won’t happen again.  That he won’t lash out and hurt me. I have given my heart to cruel people too many times. I can’t risk that again.”
Feyre hummed once more. “Rhysand and I are going to the human lands.” I sat up at that and gave her a questioning look. “Yes Nesta, sent word to Cassian two days ago.” Oh, so that’s why the gifts had stopped at that point. “We are to go back in a few days.”
“Great I’ll-“
“Rhys thinks it would be best if you stayed home. I can’t say I disagree, with everything that has gone on,” and everything that happened the last time I was in the human lands, though she doesn’t say it. “I must agree. I would feel better knowing you were here.
I lay back on the bed and groan, “You are lucky that I am in no mood to fight. I’ll stay but I’ll grumble about it the whole time.”
Feyre kissed my cheek, “Thank you. Now let’s go get breakfast, I’m starved.” I laughed and followed her out the room, though I can’t get the image of Cassian taking off that dress off me from my mind.
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Cassian’s POV
I was almost ready to give up by the time Feyre and Rhys were getting ready for the meeting with the human queens. I stormed into Rhys’s office with the last gifts I provided. “What kind of person destroys a stuffed toy?” I hold up the stuffed bat I got her, whose wings are now ripped apart.
Azriel and Rhys both pressed their lips in a tight line, but it was Azriel who lost his composure first. I threw the bat at him, and he caught it with ease. “She’s brilliant. I love her.” He looked to Rhys, “Can we keep her?”
I groaned plopping on the couch as Feyre came in. “I just don’t know what else to do. I have tried everything. I even wrote her a letter. She looked me in the eye as she threw it in the fire.” Her words still haunted my memories:
“How would you feel if the one person you trusted with your heart took your deepest insecurities and threw them in your face. The one person you felt safe and protected with just takes everything you are so afraid to burden people with and tells you, you are exactly that. A burden.” Then she walked away.
“Cassian did you hear me?” Feyre’s voice pulled me out of my daze. Recognizing that she caught me she smiled and gripped my hand with her own. “She doesn’t want material things or pretty words Cass. She wants security that what happened at the cabin will never happened again.” With her free hand she pressed her palm against my chest. “She would much rather you give your heart in exchange for hers than any material object.”
An idea blossomed into my mind, and I smiled looking at my girl’s twin. “My heart”. I pressed my palm over the back of her hand on my chest. I kissed her cheek, “Have I told you how brilliant you are today?”
Feyre smiled, “No, but I can see your gears turning in that mind of yours, do you have a plan?”
I nod and look to Azriel, “I do, but I need your help, Az.”
Azriel smiled, “Tell me what I need to do.”
So, I did.
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Rhysand and Feyre had left for the human realm that night and I set off to go find Y/N. I started in the library and to my surprise she was there. I smiled looking at her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lip tucked between her teeth. Her hair was up in a cute little bun, and she wore those knee-high socks that made my cock strain in my leathers.
“I can see you, General.” She said not bothering to look up from her book. “Something you need?”
“Get dressed.” That caught her attention. Her eyes meet mine in a challenge. “I can’t keep doing this, Princess. I miss you.”
“You should have-“
“I’m well aware of what my actions have done,” I stepped deeper into the room approaching her. “I am asking you to give me a chance to show you, just how sorry I am.”
“I can’t leave-“
“I’m not arguing with you about this. I am asking for a chance. Please.”
I could see her expression turn into contemplation. Then with a sigh she closed her book, and I fought my heart from swelling as her eyes met mine, “What should I wear?” I smiled.
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It felt good to have her in my arms once more as we landed in the mountains. She was shivering as we walked a few miles from the clearing I landed in. I tucked my wing around her to prevent the wind from whipping her skin raw. Her teeth chattering told me otherwise. “We’re almost there, Sweetheart.”
“Cassian, Where are we goin-“She paused mid-sentence as the Cabin came into view. A large cabin sat here the chimney already having plumes of smoke swirling out of the top. Her mouth was slightly agape that the cabin was about the size of the town home, and she looked around the area her gaze found the one thing I was hoping she would find. Walking closer to one of the larger trees that had wildflowers blooming she looked at the frame of the woman. The portrait had faded over time and not in the best condition due to weather here, but the woman shared my eyes and it was the only good quality photo I had of her. “Cass, what is this? Who is she?”
I knelt in front of the memorial and smiled my hand grazing the picture, “This is my home, Princess.” I looked to Y/N and gave another smile, “This is a portrait of my mother.”
To Be Continued...
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padfootagain · 3 days
Text
Only An Almost (VI)
Chapter 6: Hiding
Hello!! Here is a new chapter!
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 2387
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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Andrew needed to talk to you.
After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…
He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.
I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.
He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.
But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.
At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.
I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.
You opened the door.
I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…
“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”
“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”
He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.
You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.
“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”
“You look tired.”
You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…
“Thanks, I guess…”
He rolled his eyes.
“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”
“I have so many things to do…”
You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.
“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.
“I have some work to do…”
“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”
“Andy…”
“Do I really need to beg?”
He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.
“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.
“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.
He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.
“What has you so busy then?”
“Work. Important projects.”
“What kind?”
“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”
“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”
“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”
“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”
“Touché…”
“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”
“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”
“I didn’t…”
He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.
“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”
“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”
“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”
“All of the above…”
Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.
“Come on, go get changed.”
“What?”
“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”
“Andy…”
“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”
“I thought I was still stunning.”
“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”
You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.
“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”
“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”
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How could Andrew bring up this conversation?
He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.
You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.
You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.
You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…
“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.
“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”
You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.
“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”
“Only if you’re nice to me.”
“I’ll give you a snack.”
“Hmm… that could work.”
“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”
“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”
“There are badgers everywhere around here.”
“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”
“A bite-size ankle.”
“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”
“Naughty.”
You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.
Love. It’s love.
You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.
“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”
The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.
“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.
The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.
“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”
“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.
“How do you do it?”
Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.
“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”
Andrew shrugged.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.
He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.
“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”
He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.
“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”
Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.
“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”
“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”
“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”
“Some of them are.”
“What about most of us?”
He granted you a sad smile.
“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”
You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.
“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”
It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…
Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?
“It can be difficult,” he nodded.
“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”
“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”
“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”
“I understand.”
“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”
“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”
“I…”
But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.
He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.
“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”
What could he answer?
No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…
“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.
You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.
He was being a fool…
“I can’t think like that, Andy.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”
He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.
“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”
His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.
It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.
You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.
“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”
He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.
You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…
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miniversse · 3 days
Text
⭑ ”i owe you” pt.2 ⭑
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╰┈➤ READ PART 1
⭑ jeongin x female reader
⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, mentions of drinking, unprotected sex, releasing, fingering, mentions of scars and stitches, use of pet names (baby)
⭑ note: i cannot begin to describe how much i love this piece. please read part 1 for it all to make sense! ⭑ minors dni
⭑——————————————————⭑
recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading…
(SKZ)
your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.
“i owe you.”
“j-jeongin?”
he slowly nods, a soft smile growing on his healed face.
“i don’t think i thanked you enough for that night.” he stops to look down at his shoes, kicking at the box in front of him to fill the silence, speaking again.
“what you did, it really changed me. you didn’t have to help me, even after i was a total bitch to you.”
the emotions you had five years ago the first time you locked eyes with him grew inside of you again, but in another light. first time it was sympathy and worry. but now it’s love and comfort.
“come have a drink at my place, as way of welcoming you as my new neighbor” you suggest, hoping it can soften the mood.
“you changed your paintings” he sets his shot glass slowly on the table, observing your living room.
“how do you know?” you never knew he would remember so much, and you felt embarrassed.
“i had to distract myself from the pain, it was the only thing i could admire.”
“i thought it was time for a cha-“
“other than you”
the words caught in your throat and your heart stopped beating for a moment. the way he glanced at you never left your mind, and it all made sense now. before you could react, he brings himself closer to you on the couch, resting his palm on your cheek. you were able to get a closer look of his healed scar, secretly admiring your work.
“5 years, y/n. you never left my mind for a day”
his lips clash with yours, aggressive kisses from the beginning. his tongue glides over yours, moving deeper and deeper inside of your mouth. his hand rests on your waist, sneakily pushing you closer to him. it felt like the world was timing you, your bodies frantically rushing to the bedroom, lips still locked.
his hand rides up your shirt, fiddling with your bra strap. your body tingles at his touch, bringing him closer.
“more, jeongin”
“i.n” he mumbles, breaking the kiss you thought would never end.
“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, y/n”
you couldn’t take him seriously while he glides his hands over your skin, exploring every part of your body and feeling his boner against your thigh.
“isn’t that why you moved next to me?” 
he laughs, placing his head in the nook of your neck, taking in your sweet smell. he brings his mouth closer to your ear, placing small hot kisses around it.
“you could say so”
the setting sun glorified his body over yours, stripping naked and revealing his bare self to you. there was more than you thought had happened to him. his chest had several stitches everywhere which were slowly healing.
“w-what’s this?”
he looks down, tracing every stitch and bringing his fingers down to trace them onto your bare torso.
“SKZ. i was apart of some underground group. we got into a lot of scandals and fights and deals gone wrong. we were wanted, dead or alive.”
he moves to lay down next to you, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear as you listen attentively.
“i was always the one who got the hurts, because i was always initiating the problems. that day, was my last day being in SKZ”
“what made you leave?” your questions didn’t bother him anymore, he answered you with love and passion, and it couldn’t have been better.
“you. i was a hopeless romantic, and i thought no doctor would date someone like me. so i changed for you.”
you place a peck on his cheek, laying on his chest to hear the rest.
“i wrote your address on a paper, got a stable job, got off the police’s radar and here i am. with you.”
his words made you squirm with joy and sympathy. you wanted to pay off every day of those 5 years he spent for you. you want it to be eternity with him.
“fuck, baby” he groans at the way you stretch around his dick, grabbing onto the sheets for support.
you moved up and down his thick length, moaning with every inch he put inside of you. he felt like an escape of the harsh and cruel worlds you both lived in.
“faster baby, faster” you oblige, taking him in faster and slamming your ass down on him, making him go wild. he brings his two fingers to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip open. he swirls your saliva around them and brings it down to your clit, moving in slow circular motions.
“oh my fu- i.n fuck” your breath became harder to catch at the overloaded sensory.
he bit at his lower lip, enjoying the view of your sex face, pounding body and wet clit. you couldn’t deny that he looked ten times hotter with his scars that must carry so much significance to him.
his dick jerks inside of you and his veins glide again your walls. he only rubbed you faster, moving to place his fingers inside of you too, bringing you to your orgasm. your unholy moans and sweet nothings filled the air, and your release coated his dick, lubricating his final moments before he releases too.
you fall onto the mattress beside him, panting and holding each other tight.
“baby?” you whisper to him softly.
“hm?” his foxy eyes gaze into yours, waiting to listen to you all day, all month, all year.
“i owe you”
FIN.
⭑ TAG LIST
@captainchrisstan @all4minnie @rylea08 @strayywayy @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken
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ms--lobotomy · 2 days
Note
How do you think the other primarchs would react to say konrad, mortarion, or peterturabo getting a significant other before everyone else
Hi! I did a poll to decide who to write for, and Konrad won fair and square! I'll write Mothman someday I promise Here's your food.
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Summary: Horus and Fulgrim come into contact with Konrad's new partner.
Content Warnings: Fulgrim existing except Horus is more annoying because I like to write him as kind of a dick, uncomfortable social situation, Konrad is also a bit of a silly billy because I am unwell
Image Credit: @squishyowl
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You'd been wandering the Imperial Palace for hours now. You'd tried to backtrack a few times, but it had never worked. This wing was a lot more refined than what you were used to, with gold tastefully added in where it accentuated a particular piece. You reached out your hand to touch one of the ornate picture frames, you couldn't help yourself. The metal was smooth underneath your fingers, cold to the touch.
You heard their footsteps before you heard anything else, a pair of them. They were far too heavy to be that of baseline humans, or even space marines. You ran towards the noise, ignoring their idle chatter. If Konrad wasn't in the mix, they could at least give you directions back to his wing of the palace.
"Hello?" you asked, dashing around the corner.
You recognized the violet armor of the one on your left first. Fulgrim. You took a step back without thinking about it. You knew he was closer with Konrad than many of the others, but there was something about his presence that was unnerving. Almost as if he was too perfect. To the right was none other than Horus Lupercal, arguably the most important of his brothers with his fancy Warmaster title. He sported clean teal armor and stood slightly taller than his brother.
Fulgrim spoke up first. "Ah... you're my brother's partner," he remarked. He stepped up slightly closer to you, and you backed away.
"It's strange," said Horus. "I never expected him to be the first of us to get a partner, but here we are. How is he treating you?" He stepped up to come side-to-side with his brother again.
"Oh," you said, shuffling your feet. "I mean, I think it's pretty nice?" you asked. "He's--"
Horus cut you off with a chuckle. "Imagine that," he said, turning to his brother. "What do you think, Fulgrim?"
"I think..." he said, putting a finger to his lips and looking down. "I think that we should let the little one get a word in, don't you think?"
Little one? "Sure thing," said Horus. He looked down at you expectantly.
"I..." you started. Sure, they were around twice your size, but did that give them the right to... it was too much effort to contest it. It was probably best to just head back on your own. "I guess he sometimes just pops up out of nowhere, uh... I just wanted to know how to get back to his wing, honestly." You turned around to retrace your steps yet again.
Horus stepped in front of you. You looked behind you, and Fulgrim had that pleasant smile on his face that almost never left.
"We haven't seen you in person yet," remarked Horus. "Why don't you stay and talk for a little? I'm quite curious to know how our brother is as a partner," he said.
"Uhm..." you started, looking to the side. I can tell, you thought to yourself, though you wouldn't dare vocalize it. "I... he..." you started, sinking back into yourself. You felt your face go warm, and you fiddled with your hands. Horus looked down at you expectantly, a dickish smirk on his face.
You heard your name from a familiar voice. You snapped your head around to see none other than Konrad, hastily adjusting his armor. "You got lost," he said. You nodded, closing your eyes. "I see you've met my brothers?"
"Your partner is a delight to talk to," said Horus. "They should stay on Terra a while, I'd like to get to know them."
"I think they'd like to go," he said curtly. Horus stepped out of the way, and Konrad grabbed your wrist. You felt Fulgrim's stare at the back of your head, slightly bemused. "Isn't that right?"
"Very well," said Horus. "Talk to you later, I should hope?"
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renranram · 2 days
Note
Your stories r so good qigehwjw I keep rereading them when there hasn't been a new one updating, but would like to ask which u can freely ignore.
What if schlatt takes us once again to Japan and we try out a kimono he's either filming her or someone else it's up to you🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 once again have a great day!!
Kimonos
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sfw + fluff
this is like the part 2 from the last japan related schlatt one shot i wrote
a/n; HI YANNVI!! IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY WORKS SKSHSHFJ + YOUR IDEA IS SO CUTE OFC I CAN'T JUST IGNORE IT ILY ( PARASOCIALLY )
schlatt and you return again to japan, this time it's just both of you two, no cameras, no nothing
the photo booth pics of you two are still in the back of his phone, showing you off but in a lowkey way, as you two scroll through a small festival in japan you two look around as schlatt pause, approaching a small stand before picking up a small pink cat plush
“ it looks like you “ schlatt smiles as you chuckle, “ do i really? “ you ask, standing next to him as you pat the small plush before gasping, grabbing a large brown bear
“ it looks like you! “ you giggle, as he chuckles back, gently grabbing the bear from out of your hand as he poses with it
you grab out your polaroid, before snapping a photo of him and the bear, “ you're so cute “ you mutter out as schlatt could only pull you for a peck in your cheek
“ i thought we agreed on not bringing any cameras hm? “ he gently caresses your shoulder before you respond, “ i knoww, i just wanted to snap some photos “ you reply, “ preserve the memories you know? “
“ of course you would “ he states, before glancing at the two plushies, “ do you want them? “ he asks
“ uhm.. but what if they're too expensive? “ you ask, he always spoils you without a problem so why would he care now?, “ there's nothing to expensive for me “ schlatt retorts patting your hair as he grabs both of the plushies
respectfully paying for the toys, as he looks at you proudly, holding the bag, “ it's us but if we're plushies “ you added he intertwines his hand with yours, as you two continue to walk around the festival
you two ate traditional foods, looked at shrines and even paid respect for the spirits by lighting up some candles
your polaroid collections started growing and growing with every shot of you two, that was until fans of his spotted you two, both are wearing kimonos as they reluctantly approaches schlatt
“ hi! we're such big fans “ the boy, who looks about 15 and his friend, a girl, who looks older smiles at them as you glance at schlatt, happy that he was recognized, “ hey im glad you like my content “ schlatt replies
the two kids looks at you before gasping, giving him a cheeky smile, schlatt scolds the kids in a playful manner, “ we keep this a secret alright? “ he daps up the kids before the two nod, being a chuckling mess
“ can we take a photo with you? “ the girl asks as schlatt glances at you, looking for permission as you respond with a small nod, stepping away a little as the two kids, pose, and snaps a photo with their idol
schlatt pats both of their shoulders, “ we're so happy to meet you! “ the kids state in unison as they bow in unison too, “ me too, “ schlatt pauses before glancing at their attire, “ hey, before you two go, can i ask where'd you'd get those? “ he asks nicely, pointing at the kimonos
“ oh our parents rented these in a nearby store… like over there! “ the kid points at a shop, who's only a few blocks from where they were
“ alright, thank you “ schlatt gives them a little bow as the kids run away, giggling, schlatt approaches you, noticing you looking in awe at a beautifully decorated shrine while chewing on her dango
“ hi toots “ he greets you again, his hand on your waist as you smile, “ they seem like nice kids “ you commented as schlatt nods in reply, “ i wanna try something with you “ he added as you raise your eyebrow in interest
“ oh? “ you blink as schlatt gently grabs your wrist as he starts pulling you behind him, “ what is it? “ you ask, smiling, “ just something “
you nod in defeat as schlatt and you stop at a kimono shop, you gasp, “ what's this for? “ you ask him, “ wanna try those kimonos with you “ he nudges your shoulder
“ really? “ you squeal, before nodding, as two staffs comes up to you two speaking in japanese but they're generally greeting you in their shop
you two were separated by them as they let you chose the preferred color of your clothing, unironically, you and schlatt chose the same color, light blue
the staffs gently dresses you up with the obis, such as ( obi-age, obi, obi-dome and obi-shime ), they were that kind to even gently put on the tabi on you, even letting you borrow a tradional umbrella and a kinchaku
schlatt of course paid for everything, the staffs calling him handsome and he could only bow and chuckle in response flustered
as you got out of the dressing room, schlatt swore he fell in love again, he smiles, your hair was put up, the staffs cooes at you two as you chuckling, noticing the same color you two wore
“ we're twinning babe “ you approach him as schlatt pulls you by your waist as the staffs squeal like teenage girls
you two chuckle as schlatt pulls out the polaroid before approaching the staff, whispering something at them as they nod, even with the language barrier schlatt just hands them the polaroid before going back to you to pose
“ ah “ you mutter, his hand on your waist, as the two of you pose, after with a small shutter, schlatt bows in gratitude as the staff returns the camera, all smiles, “ uh…you return in… hour “ the staff states, her broken english is very obvious
the two of you continued to walk around the festival even managing to get into a petting zoo, before it was you who was taking photos him and this time it was him taking pictures
it was an adorable sight really, you chuckle, scrunchiour nose as you feed a lamb, another shutter, “ you keep taking pics of me “ you mumbles, fixing your hair
“ it's cause you're adorable toots “ he smiles at you, “ plus, it saves the memories you know… so.. if we do get children in the future we can show them how pretty their mother is “
you blush like a teenage girl, “ awh come on, it is real tho, i want us to have a photo album of us, a photo album dedicated to you, showing how much we love eachother “
“ … you're so cheesy “ you can only comment, as schlatt pecks your cheek, “ it is real tho, i wanna share these memories with them in the future “
-
@.isniffschlatt’ssocks • 7 minutes
AHH OMG SCHLATT WAS SPOTTED IN JAPAN WITH THE SAME GIRL, ANY THOUGHTS??
↳ 427 ⇆ 308 ♡ 592
↳ @.jschlatt • 1 minute
that girl is my gf btw
↳ 799 ⇆ 987 ♡ 1.8k
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madangel19 · 1 day
Note
Okay okay, so hear me out.
The ghoulettes (either one or all, doesn't matter which) and Phantom, right?
Phantom is sick for the first time topside and it's bad.
Bad because they try to hide it for so long they collapse. It's not their fault really, they don't really know what sickness is.
They wake up in Cirrus' room and the girls nurse them back to health!
Ooo, I like :3
Content: Fainting and some angst from poor Phantom
Words Count: 767
Phantom groaned when another wave of unease washed over him during practice. It had been happening all morning and he had no idea what was happening. Did he eat something bad? That often happened when one ate tainted meat, but the food in the ministry had been perfect so far. 
He tried to focus on his guitar, but the more he played, the more pain and unease took over. He could see the concerned looks from his pack members whenever he messed up. That was to be expected since he was new, but when he saw Copia looking back at him, he felt even worse. There was plenty of time to get better with performing. These songs were new to him and he needed more practice, but he had been doing so well over the past few weeks. 
“Let’s take a ten minute break,” Copia said when they were done practicing Kaisarion. He gave Phantom a knowing nod before going over to drink some water.
“Hey, are you okay?” Dewdrop asked, walking over to him with two water bottles in hand. Phantom didn’t realize just how thirsty he was when Dewdrop handed him the water bottle.
“I’m fine. I…I just need more practice,” Phantom replied, taking a sip of the water.
It suddenly hit him like a break and he coughed violently, dropping the water and spilling it. He tried to steady himself, but he was quickly on his knees, alerting the rest of the pack and Copia. His ears were ringing and his vision grew foggy as the ghouls surrounded him. He felt a hand on his back easing him to lie down and all went dark. 
Phantom groaned, slowly opening his eyes to a dark room. His head was pounding and there was something cold on his forehead. He tried to move his hand to feel what was there, but his movements were sluggish. He felt high, but it was a bad kind of high. 
A soft chirp filled the air and he noticed movement in front of him. More chirps and chitters surrounded him and he noticed three figures surrounding him. 
“Hey there, Bug. You gave us quite a scare back there,” a familiar voice cooed as one of the figures got closer. 
Phantom blinked and Cirrus took form before him. She smiled at him and placed a hand on his forehead, taking off whatever it was that he had there. It looked like a wet towel. 
“What…What happened?” Phantom asked, his voice weak. 
“You passed out on us, sweetie. Looks like you caught a nasty bug,” Cumulus said, appearing on his other side with another towel in hand.
“A…bug? Did…Did I get…bit?” Phantom questioned.
Cirrus and Cumulus exchanged worried glances before turning back to him. Cumulus put the rag on his forehead while also caressing his skin with perfectly cool fingertips.
“It’s not an actual bug, honey. You got sick real bad. It happens with new summons, but you’ll feel better in a few days with rest. I know it feels scary, but you have us to take care of you,” Cumulus chimed, her smile sweeter than anything. 
“I…I gotta practice. The band needs…me…,” Phantom murmured. He couldn’t be laying around in bed when he should be getting better at performing. If he wasn’t good enough, then he would surely be sent back to the pits. The very thought terrified him.
“It’s okay, Phantom. We have plenty of time before the tour starts. You just rest and we’ll be here for you. Swiss will make you your favorite snacks whenever you feel like eating. How’s that sound?” Cirrus said, patting his shoulder. 
“What if…What if they send me…back?” Phantom asked, feeling tears well up in his eyes. 
“That’s not gonna happen, Buggy. All of us have gotten sick at some point and we were never sent back. You’re staying here with us no matter what,” Cumulus said, leaning in to peck him on the cheek. 
Phantom let out a sigh and relaxed into the bed. Cirrus and Cumulus continued to chitter amongst themselves as they worked on tucking him into the bed and making him comfortable. 
“You need anything, Bug?” Cirrus asked. 
He wasn’t quite sure what he needed until a wave of drowsiness took over him and his eyelids grew heavy. 
“Just…sleep,” he murmured.
“You rest up as much as you can, honey. That’s the best thing you can do now,” Cumulus said.
Phantom smiled up at them as he slowly closed his eyes. The last thing he heard was them humming softly together as they sat on either side of him.
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I just wanna say I have notifications on for this blog, AND DID NOT GET THEM. Ahem, anyway, may I ask for a part two of the Muzan x reader fluff where he turns the reader into a demon? 👀 — H
Of course~ Some fluff coming right up~
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Title: Meant to Be (Continuation of In Sickness and in Health)
Characters: Muzan x m!Reader
Contains: fluff, pet names (love, dear), blood, death (Demons are...well, demons. While there is fluff, there will be blood and death of extrememly minor characters. Be warned when reading.)
Fandom: Demon Slayer
Full request below the cut
All characters are 18+
MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI (This may not be smut, but I still want the above to be followed)
Reblogs > likes
A nearby village was no match for your carnivorous rage.
Homes were destroyed, and bodies were scattered about the roads. Faint words rang in your mind as your carnage continued.
Eat to your heart's content.
And eat you did, leaving the village with nearly nothing left. It was a small village, one with not too many people. Anyone who ran by you or attempted to kill you would be your primary target, costing them their lives. Though the ones in hiding wouldn't be spared either, as you would hunt them down like prey, blood dripping from your mouth as you would scout out your next meal.
Within the hour, the village was no more. Families were wiped and structures demolished. You stood at the center of the land, panting heavily as your claws and mouth were soaked with the blood of various villagers. You couldn't tell if you were satisfied, but the nagging feeling in your gut tempted you to hunt for more.
The presence behind you felt appetizing.
Though upon turning around you were met with a tall man with dark wavy hair, his white hat surprisingly clean despite being in a land of viscera and death. You immediately changed your tune, your predatory nature giving way to something softer.
"Muzan, darling!"
He was the only thing you could remember when you woke up. Your memories were nearly erased with the transformation, only leaving the relationship you two shared.
Upon seeing his beloved, Muzan gave you a smile. You didn't realize it before, but now that you had a moment to process, you notice he held a terrified villager in one arm. She was held firmly, Muzan's hand pressing against it so she wouldn't scream. She was afraid, eyes wide as they darted between the two of you.
"I caught this one attempting to run from the village," Muzan explained, gazing down at the woman. "What do you think we should do with her?"
Hunger shot to your mind again, and you stepped toward the trembling woman. Her still wide eyes were now fixated on you rather than flicking back and forth. Her life was quite literally in someone else's hands.
You thought about her fate for a moment, a teasing response following. "Love, have I ever told you I wanted a pet~?"
That answer didn't sit well with the woman, and she began to squirm. Her screams were muffled by Muzan's hand with no way of calling out. Her feet futilely kicked in the air, as if she was already trying to run.
Muzan wasn't happy about her response, and with this position, he forced her head back, exposing her neck. "Are you sure about this one? She's quite loud."
You were so glad he played along.
"Hmm...you're right. I have another idea instead." Staring at the woman, who was frozen in fear from her new position, you simply uttered, "Let her go."
Without question, Muzan dropped the woman to the ground. She was unable to meet either of your gazes.
"Well?" You knelt down to her, your voice teasing. "Run~"
As if thinking she was blessed by the gods, she took you at your order, bolting the moment she heard the word. She screamed into the air, calling for anyone to help her, to help her village.
"Are you really about to let her get away?" Muzan asked, a brow quirked.
Your answer was a simple one.
With your newfound speed, the woman would never reach the end of the village. Your teeth would sink deep into her neck, silencing her for good as you indulged in your final meal of the night.
---
Having returned home, you were covered in the dry blood of your feast. Muzan offered to help clean you, to which you didn't refuse. He simply asked you to wait in the bathroom as he set everything up, from gathering your lounging clothes to setting up the tub with heated water. Once the tub was set and you were free of your dirtied clothes, you settled yourself in the tub, some of the water splashing out in the process.
Undeterred by this, Muzan went to work. Despite his title of King of Demons, he treated you as if you were the very thing he was, along with extra care. The way he'd hold your arm was that of a porcelain doll. The sponge carefully swiped along your skin, soap suds cleansing away the dirt and blood that speckled it. As you soaked, and as Muzan carried his actions, the water would tinge color, becoming a translucent red.
As Muzan finished his self assigned duties, he would take note of this sight, and a rush of admiration would wash over him. Thoughts of you bathing in the blood of your adversaries set his body a flame.
For once in his millennia of life, he was the one that did not feel worthy to be in someone's presence.
This feeling would remain as he would assist you out of the tub, a spot with a towel all prepared for you to sit upon as he dried off your freshly cleaned skin. You were the only creature that would ever see him like this, kneeling before a lesser demon, assiting them in such a menial task.
You'd tease him, but in reality you adored how gentle he was with you, and why would you tease that? Sure he was a king, but even a king can be gentle.
With your body dry, he clothed you with a luxurious silk robe that complimented your new reddened eye color. You weren't sure when he had gotten this, but you weren't complaining. It felt lovely on your skin, and you were grateful for his assitance.
Muzan would stand, carefully taking your hand to urge you to stand as well. In doing so, he would carefully kiss the ridge of your knuckles, gazing at you with such soft eyes. You wanted to return the gesture, so you then in turn pulled his hand holding yours close, turning your hand to expose his and return the kiss.
You would never remember who you were, but one thing was for certain: this is where you were meant to be and who you were meant to be with.
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silverofthunder · 1 day
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☆ speranza ☆
Terzo (Papa Emeritus III) x Female Reader
summary: ”I think I can see us being happy. Finding it along the way.”
content: 1.1k words, history au, arranged marriage, tiny bit of angst, hope of romance, SFW
Well, as I'm a bit stuck with my Dracopia series I decided to write something else. I'm not really into history but I love movies like Pride and Prejudice so I had to write this little piece. Hope you like this! 😊
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"You look beautiful, my princess," your mother said, smiling warmly at you. You let out a short hum, taking a look at the mirror. You were wearing your finest dress – it was lovely but it felt so tight that you felt you couldn't breathe properly. Or maybe it was due to the fact that soon you would marry a man who you really didn't know, let alone love. It was bound to happen at some point but still there had been a tiny part within you that had hoped you didn't have to go through arranged marriage. It felt suffocating to get bound to someone that was basically a stranger. "My dearest..." your mother's voice shook you out of your thoughts and you looked at her. "You will learn to love him like I did with your father." You tried to smile at your mother but it probably wasn't that convincing as your mother took a hold of your hand and squeezed it. "Prince Terzo is a good man. Kind and well-mannered, highly respected and strong-willed. He will treat you right, we know that." "I hope so," you said and your mother gave you a stern look. She knew you had doubts but didn't appreciate that you voiced them. There was nothing that could be done to change things. You just had to accept your fate. Sighing, you moved your gaze back to the mirror and your reflection. You forced a smile on your lips and years of practice made it look near perfect, almost genuine. "That’s more like it," your mother spoke softly, bringing your hand to her lips and kissing your knuckles.
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You and the Prince Terzo, who was your husband now, were taking a brief walk in the palace gardens. The summer day was beautiful, sun shining bright above you, and you had to admire the flower sea around you. Your life had changed due to marriage but it had been smoother transition as you had expected it to be. Fortunately, Terzo understood and even shared your thoughs of arranged marriage – neither of you were happy about it but you had promised to try. It had been a few weeks since you had moved to another kingdom, the one that was ruled by Terzo's older brother, Secondo. Their father had passed away due to severe illness as well as their older brother Primo, so Secondo had had to take the weight of the crown some years prior. "There seems to be a lot of thoughts occupying your mind." There was a hint of amusement in Terzo's voice and you turned your head to look at him with a small smile on your lips. "I do," you stated. Terzo looked at your curious, his mismatched eyes bright. It was a strange thing – the eyes being a different color but you found it to be a lovely detail. "Is there a chance I can hear about some of them?" Terzo's curiosity was welcomed. You had expected him to be uninterested about you, only wanting you to fulfill your duties as a wife but it was far from truth. He seemed genuinely to want to get to know you and it made you feel more appreciated. That you were more than just a woman who had to look pretty beside him and eventually bear his child. "Maybe," you answered, grinning slightly and Terzo shook his head and moved in front of you, stopping both of you in the middle of the path. He took a hold of your hand, leaning down and placing a light kiss on the back of it. Heat rushed to your cheeks even though the gesture wasn't new to you. But it felt somehow sweeter now. "Such a mysterious lady you are, my dear," Terzo said smiling. "I thought this marriage would only make us both miserable, like we would be birds trapped in a cage, but seems like it might not be the case." It was quite an optimistic view, considering you didn't really knew each other well, yet, but so far things had been good. And you wanted to believe that they would stay that way. "I'm also glad we seem to have same kind of view regarding this marriage." Silence fell between you after that and Terzo used it to pull you close to him, the heat now starting to tingle your cheeks. The way he was looking at you, was making your heart hammer in your chest and butterflies flutter in your stomach and the proximity felt nice, comfortable. "You are so beautiful," Terzo said quietly and you couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped from you. "Oh, stop it." Terzo's other brow quirked up. "But I'm only telling the truth. The first time I laid my eyes on you, I swear I forgot to breathe for a moment." "This," you said, motioning to your whole appearance, "will fade and change during the years." "I know. That's why what's in the heart matters the most in the end." You tilted your head, curious. "You really seek that? The deeper connection?" you had to ask. "Sí," Terzo answered, now lifting his hand up to cup your cheek and gently caress it with his thumb. "Always hoped that I could find that. I don't want anything hollow or meaningless, I've seen enough of that." Terzo's words warmed your heart and you couldn’t help but smile. It sounded too good to be true but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. You were now bound to Terzo and you had to do your part, fulfill your duties but if you could trust to Terzo’s words, there could be something else, too. Maybe something more meaningful, true in the future.
”Do you believe that we can find happiness in a situation like this?”
Terzo didn’t answer straight away, he focused on looking at you, probably thinking his next words. Slowly he started to run his fingers along the shape of your face, his touch light. You shivered, your cheeks burning as his fingers swiped over your lips. Terzo breathed in deep and you mimicked that, releasing the air right after.
”Can I kiss you?” Terzo asked, his voice sounding velvety. Your heart jolted and you moved your hand to take a hold of Terzo’s arm.
”Yes,” you whispered and then Terzo was leaning in, pressing his lips softly against yours. It wasn’t your first kiss but it surely felt like one. Sweet and short, leaving this tiny pleasant warmth lingering in your body afterwards. You squeezed Terzo’s arm, smiling at him in awe when your gazes met again.
”I think I can see it,” he said, the look in his eyes catching a certain kind of seriousness. ”Us, being happy. Finding it along the way.”
No matter if it sounded optimistic, you took it. Right now it was just enough.
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hannahssimblr · 10 hours
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I shoulder through the front doors into the fresh spring air, still a little breathless with adrenaline, to where Michelle is waiting for me. She looks unhappy. 
“How did it go?” I say. 
“Oh, awful, they were like robots, so intimidating. I didn’t know what they thought of my work, you know? I really thought I’d start crying at one point.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and that woman was so cold. She was pulling all of these faces at my self portraits and saying they were naive.”
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“Oh, God,” In an attempt at reassurance I start rubbing her arm, “I’m sure they liked plenty things about your work.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I sensed they hated all of it.”
“They couldn’t have, it’s probably just your perception, they… I bet they’re harsh to everyone, you know? They probably don’t want to get anyone's hopes up with there being limited places and all…”
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She looks at me, “Was yours bad too?”
“Awful,” I say without missing a beat, “Same as you, they gave me nothing. It was hard to tell what they really thought of my work, but they didn’t seem overjoyed by any of it to be honest.”
“Oh,” her shoulders relax, “well if they were like that with you then they must be just playing hard ball.”
“I think so.”
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“What if we don’t get in?”
“Well fuck ‘em,” I grin, “We don’t need them. NCAD? Who cares, right? It’s not exactly at the top of our list.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“I usually am.”
“Something else will work out, right?”
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“Of course it will! C’mon, let’s just grab a coffee and chill out,” I drape my arm over her shoulder and walk her around the corner to where I parked the car. 
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The car, the brand new, shiny, blue Volkswagen Polo that my parents got me for my eighteenth birthday, is gleaming under the afternoon sun, one tyre wedged awkwardly against the kerb because I haven’t yet mastered the art of parallel parking when there are two other impatient drivers beeping their horns at me and gesticulating wildly out their windows. 
“He just got his fucking licence, you spas!” Michelle screamed at them from the passenger window as I manoeuvred myself into a gap big enough to house an articulated truck but somehow felt the width of a water closet as soon as I tried to fit my 1.0 litre hatchback into it. I could have told her that firing middle fingers at other drivers left and right wasn’t really doing much to diffuse the situation, but it seemed she was reaching some sort of catharsis from it. She likes that. Screaming, I mean.
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This car has been a point of contention, not because I can’t park it well, but because it was an extravagance I neither needed nor desired. “We live in the city,” I protested when my parents handed me the keys, “I can just take the bus.” But they had this idea that I might like to drive it into school and be the envy of all the other students, poverty stricken losers without parents who can buy them vehicles worth half the average national salary. I told them I can just walk like always, and they didn’t like that. 
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“This is a good present,” said my dad, as though insisting could make it so, “You can drive all over, you won’t have to rely on public transport any more.”
“Did I say I didn’t like public transport?”
“Well, you could get mugged on the bus, someone could pull out a knife and take your phone and all of your money! That kind of thing is happening all over the city lately.”
I showed him my Nokia from 2004 and asked him what kind of person might like to risk prison for it, but he didn’t appreciate that, and it just escalated the argument further. 
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“I’m not going to even live in Ireland in a year, not if I can help it!” I cried with exasperation, after a further ten minutes of his dramatics, “What’s the point?”
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“Sell it then!” he bellowed back, “I don’t care what you do! It’s yours!”
“I just don’t need it! It’s too much. You can use that money for something better.”
“Money? Money is not an issue.”
“Well that car will be wasted just sitting in the driveway.”
“You’ll figure out what to use it for.”
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And I did. I still walk to school, I still take the bus into town most days (when I’m not hauling two A1 portfolio cases along with me), but sometimes, late at night Michelle and I drive up and down the coast. We get ice cream at the drive through, we talk, but mostly I park it in the darkest corner of some car park, sea facing for maximum romance, and we fuck in the passenger seat. Not that I’ve kept track of it by any means, but I’m almost certain I have spent more time having sex in my shiny, blue, Volkswagen Polo than actually driving it. I’m sure it wasn’t Christopher’s intention for it, and it might affect the resale value, but the car has become a haven of sorts, a place where we can go to be alone, at a safe distance from my nosy sister, from Michelle’s anxious father, and perhaps most vitally, from Jen, who has never quite stopped being weirded out by our relationship, even with nine full months to get used to it.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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tsams-confessions · 22 hours
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soooo. that monty gator and foxy show podcast episode with bloodmoon (4/18/2024) huh.
(id like to preface this ask by saying that i do not keep up with monty gator and foxy show WHATSOEVER so there's probably a bunch of context im missing but OH WELL)
i have. some thoughts. and none of them are good.
as someone who has only seen like 3 episodes besides this one. genuinely. what the fuck did bloodmoon even do. because WHY WERE MONTY AND PUPPET SO FUCKING CRUEL???
the way that they were rubbing it in bloodmoons face that HIS TWIN DIED. asking bloodmoon things he CLEARLY doesnt want to answer. constantly correcting his use of we because "he's alone now". SAYING THAT HIS BROTHER ABANDONED HIM?
and don't even get me STARTED on the way that monty and puppet were talking the whole time. news fucking FLASH: JUST BECAUSE YOU GO "YEAH WE'RE BULLYING BLOODMOON FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT... FOR CONTENT!!!! 🤣🤣🤣 WE'RE GONNA GET SO MANY HATE COMMENTS LOL!!!!!! 🤣🤣" DOESNT AUTOMATICALLY MAKE IT ENJOYABLE TO WATCH??????
yet somehow im supposed to think they're the good guys??? that they're the side im supposed to be cheering for???? that all this is somehow a deserved and just punishment for bloodmoon?????? maybe its all the context im missing but from that one glimpse alone... i dont see it whatsoever.
.
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coffe-and-tea-time · 2 days
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...
How do I do this??
Hello, Tea anxiously speaking!
Coffee and I started this project completely on a whim through quarantine, so there's a lot of old content to upload here. (We love the smell of cringe early in the morning)
But for now, let me ask you something...
Do you notice when someone is looking at you?
TW: Yandere behavior, intense staring, stalking, paranoia, delusions, warped perception of reality.
(not your pov)
He couldn't believe his eyes, it had to be some sort of dream, right? Nobody could be that beautiful...right?
He just couldn't stop, his eyes would just go right back at them like there was some invisible leash tied to his neck, forcing him to face in that direction. Even some of his classmates noticed, not that he cared anyways. Their skin looked so soft even from the other end of the classroom, their hair fell into place just the right way, their posture...honestly, it looked like they were expecting a picture to be taken...
"...Maybe I should take a picture"
He thought, fidgeting with his phone inside his pocket. They wouldn't mind, right? They probably were expecting someone to do so anyways and it's not like they would notice. His eyes were stuck, but since he was deep in thought it took him a moment to realize that he received a glance as well. A side glance, anxious looking...they adjusted their stance... "They know I'm watching"
His mind raced, his heart jumped nearly out of his chest at that moment, it felt like the whole world had gone quiet and everyone could hear his thumping heart, but in reality nobody could even sense a thing. In truth, his face told nothing, well, at least not much. He wasn't bland or aloof, that's not it. He just looked friendly, unassuming...an airhead if you will, maybe that's a good thing though, since nobody would know just how smitten he was for the new student.
Class was over, and then school was over, still, his eyes searched for that one person all day. He felt lost whenever they were out of sight, like he was drowning in a sea of numbness and their presence was just how life was supposed to feel like. His eyes scanned the crowd of people as he walked back home, "not here.." "not there either" he couldn't find his anchor. "maybe they take another route, or they live really close to school. But what if they're with someone right now? Were they picked up? Do they walk home? Take the subway? The bus? Do they work after school? What if something bad happened to them in their way home? They probably don't know their way around town, they said they're new, what if somebody took them? They're so beautiful... surely I'm not the only one that thinks that. What if they're not in class tomorrow because they were taken? What if I can't see them anymore? What if-"
Step...step...step..
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "there they are.."
he thought, his step calmed, letting their classmate take a bit of a lead, he walked slowly behind them, staring at their back. He loved how their hair bounced slightly with each step, so sweet, so pure. His mind drifted to calmness as soon as his eyes landed on them.
It's not weird at all, it can't be, they're classmates after all. He's just making sure they get home safe, besides, they don't seem to mind at all.
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hqbaby · 15 hours
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how did it end? — hinata x reader
ੈ𑁍༘⋆ didn’t you hear? they called it all off. after your relationship falls apart, you find yourself trying to pick up the pieces. in the midst of the wreckage, you still can’t figure out exactly why it all ended.
word count. 1.5k content. angst, breakup fic
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You remember when you first moved in. It was a hot summer day and there was a leak in the kitchen. It wasn’t there when you bought the place and Shoyo had spent the whole morning arguing with the realtor because of it. You remember seeing him get all frustrated and having to tell him to calm down, that it would be fine.
“I just wanted it to be perfect,” he told you when he got off the phone. The two of you were sitting on the floor of your bare living room, sucking on popsicles and wiping the sweat from your foreheads.
His words warmed your heart, which might have seemed counterproductive in the heat, but you didn’t care. All you could do was smile at him and take his hand and say, “Look around. It’s already perfect.”
He lit up at your words, suddenly all giddy as looked around the place. Your place. For both of you.
He kissed you then and you laughed, jokingly shoving him away, reminding him of the heat, but he didn’t care. You didn’t either.
Things were easier then. Lighter, happier. Better.
You look around the living room now, bare once more, stripped of all signs of life that had once filled its walls, and you wonder if things will ever be that good again. And you realize that they probably won’t.
“You okay?” Sakusa asks you. He’s carrying a box of your things, things that had once had a place in this home and don’t anymore. “Are you missing anything?”
You shake your head. “I’m fine,” you tell him, picking up a box at your feet. “We should go.”
All of your things are split between the trunk of your car and Sakusa’s. After he heard about what happened, he had offered to help you move your things to your new place. At that point, you hadn’t even considered leaving this house, your home. You never thought you’d have to look for a new place again.
“Is there anything else?” Sakusa asks as he closes the trunk of his car.
You look at the boxes of your things, the empty house behind you, the winding road ahead with an unfamiliar destination. You can’t help the tears that fall from your eyes. “I—I can’t,” you say, turning back to the house. “I can’t leave. It’s not over yet.”
Your friend has a pained expression on his face. He says your name, quietly, sadly. “What do you want to do?”
“Can I call him?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
But you’re already fumbling through your pockets, pulling your phone out. “I’m gonna call him.”
You tap on his number, still at the top of your contacts list. You worry your lip as you listen to the phone ring once. Twice. Thrice.
He declines.
You ring him again.
Decline.
Again.
Decline.
“Please stop,” Sakusa says, prying the phone from your hands. “He won’t answer. I’m sorry.”
You look back at the house. Did it always look so empty? So lifeless? So miserable?
“I just need a minute,” you tell him, rubbing your tears away with the back of your hand. “Just a minute,” you say, walking towards the house. To soothe it? To stop its pain? You don’t know. “I’ll be back.”
You push through the doors and suddenly you’re back at the beginning.
Shoyo stands by the staircase with a fresh bouquet, grinning that boyish grin of his. “Happy anniversary,” he says.
You frown. “It’s not our anniversary.”
“I know,” he tells you, still grinning. “But it will be in three months. Thought I’d get you something in advance.”
You launch yourself into his arms and he peppers your face with kisses as you giggle and clutch the bouquet to your chest. “I love it,” you tell him, pulling away to look him square in the eye. “Thank you.”
You’re back in the present, standing at the staircase, arms empty, the warmth of his embrace gone. How long had it been since the two of you were that happy? That careless with your joy?
A month ago, you were both at the staircase too. You were standing at the top, him at the bottom. The distance hurt you more than it should have.
“I can’t deal with this anymore,” you told him. You weren’t crying, you were just staring at him, all tired and drained. “You know that, right? You know I can’t.”
You felt for the ring on your finger. It had been there for two years already, a promise that was yet to be fulfilled. A promise that you had been waiting on for so long, one that never came and would never come.
He gripped the rails and shook his head. “I don’t know what you want from me."
He had a different look on his face, one that you wouldn’t have recognized two years ago but had become increasingly familiar with in the last few weeks. You were both tired, and that was never going to end well no matter what you did.
“Put me first,” you told him. Asking. Begging. Pleading. “Just put me first for once.”
You grip the railing now and you wonder why it didn’t end there. Because it didn’t. Somehow, you found it in yourselves to keep going, keep breathing life into the corpse that was the two of you for two more weeks.
You should’ve let it end there. Maybe it would’ve made more sense.
You wander to the kitchen, the place where you once considered that you might’ve been the happiest you’d ever be.
It was a Sunday night, Shoyo had spent his day off with you, going to your favorite spots around the city, having dinner at the place you two loved, lying on the couch and watching all the shows you’d missed. You found yourselves washing the bowls you’d used for ice cream, chatting about your day, the things you could do next week.
You thought that you were already happy then, that things couldn’t get much better, but Shoyo wasn’t having any of that.
As you placed the last bowl on the drying rack, you found your boyfriend on his knees. There was a ring in his hands. No box, just a ring. He later told you that he’d kept it in his pajama pocket because he was so scared of losing it and you’d laughed at him and told him you understood.
He was nervous, the words getting all jumbled in his mouth until all he could say was, “Do you—do you maybe wanna marry me?”
You nodded your head and leaned down to kiss him. He slid the ring onto your finger and you held him tight. You never wanted to let him go.
You twist the ring on your finger now. He told you to keep it, but you’d been contemplating giving it back. Maybe Sakusa could pass it along. Or Atsumu. Any one of your friends would do. You just know you can’t give it to him directly. He won’t have that.
You tap the kitchen table, still there, part of what you decided to sell with the house because neither of you wanted to keep it. You both know why, but you never said it out loud.
It was where things ended, more or less.
You had sat down for dinner, the week building up to that moment had been tense, but not anything special. You were bracing yourself for another fight, another cool down, another restless night of sleep before things went back to normal. You don’t know if you should’ve realized it was coming. You guess you never will.
“We need to talk,” he said and you listened.
You both poured out all the things that bothered you, the things you wanted to fix, the things that were clearly going wrong. It was a civil conversation, diplomatic and understanding. You talked and talked, trying to piece together the things neither of you could understand on your own. You thought it would work, you thought it was going well.
But it went on for too long. You circled around the same concerns again and again. You put things together only to watch them fall apart. It felt like building a sandcastle by the sea only for the whole thing to be washed away by the waves in seconds.
In the end, you realized that you were going nowhere. This was going nowhere.
So you stopped trying to fix it. You both did. There was no point trying to bring something back when it had clearly been gone for a while already.
You look at the table now. You look at the marks you left on it, where you had both engraved your initials. Shoyo had been so happy when you agreed to doing it.
“We’ll be here forever,” he told you as he pressed the cutter to the wood. His head was bent, focusing and carefully carving each stroke. 
You were sitting beside him, head on his shoulder. You smiled. “We’ll be here forever.”
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notes. i’ve been in a weird place recently, picking at old wounds and all, so my writing’s been all over the place. i’m trying not to touch any of my series right now (mainly because i’m scared i’ll mess with the plots too much to backtrack), so here’s a little fic for now <3
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meridiansdominoes · 2 days
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Hi! I've read Dominoes and Espirit D'Corps (probably butchered that, but it's French, so) like. At least a dozen times each. I love both so much. I always cry at the part where Kyber and Hevy meet--its just. It's so good!!!
Can I ask how you came up with the plot? If you want, feel free to rant about your creative process, I'd really like to know how your brain works
Hi! I'm so so glad you've been enjoying them! Thank you so much!
Oh my, about how I came up with the plot, haha... hm. Well, for Dominoes, it was back when I was in high school and clone wars was in full swing, so I was reading a TON of fanfiction. I had noticed that there were tons and tons of fanfiction where Jedi are thrown back in time or given a chance to try and fix the timeline, and many of them were very good! But there were very few that dealt with clones in that situation back then. I noticed this because of my clone obsession, haha, I really wanted one, but I couldn't find anything to satisfy me. As I thought about it more, I realized it could be really interesting to see how non Force-sensitive characters would deal with such a situation, especially ones that don't have nearly as much authority as a Jedi. Figuring out that dynamic was fascinating for me, and so rough drafts of the first chapter began! In the beginning I didn't even have a reason for how or why they time traveled, either. I just wanted it to happen, so I wrote it! It's been fun putting things together to make the plot more coherent now. Of course, this was before we got news that season 7 would be released, so I had no idea we would get more Echo content, thus his involvement with the bad batch and survival past the techno union nonsense isn't included, but it's still been fun!
For Esprit de Corps... I remember it was new year's eve several years ago and I was having some serious writer's block with Dominoes, so I decided to pull up a blank document. I had just watched the Force Awakened again and was mourning the lack of Finn character development, and started to brainstorm how his interactions with the clones would have gone. That led me to remember the term 'esprit de corps', which basically refers to a sense of kinship or loyalty felt between members of a group... and then 'esprit' looks a lot like 'espiritu', which is spirit in Spanish... so then I thought it would be really fun if ghost clones were helping Finn throughout his adventure. It really evolved from there!
Thanks for the ask haha! It was fun to remember how these fics began! Keep an eye out for updates in the near future ;)
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