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#i only go outside when i'm being forced to
muchlovekatia · 17 hours
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✧ ˚ · . "𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔." — theodore nott
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. . theodore nott x
reader ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
SYNOPSIS: you are a good friend. it is just a favor that you need. if only theodore weren't so uncooperative.
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⋆·˚ ༘ * 🫐
warnings! :
smut!! ,, mdni ,, oral sex ,, fingering dead dove don't eat ,, swearing .
"do you think it would work.. if i touched her like this?"
.ೃ࿐ 🎞️
〰️
THEODORE NOTT'S dormitory smells of cigarette smoke and light citrus. the scent he wears on his clothes, his skin, his gaze, his breath, as you've always observed. it's the first thing you notice when you invite yourself in without bothering to knock, without even pausing outside of his door, the first thing that has never failed to make you question whether you truly hate him or not.
but the boy sitting at his desk chair, toying with a pen that he lightly touches to his lip, reminds you just why you do. theodore's back is to you, therefore you cannot actually see him, his long legs spread and his eyes directed out the slightly-open window. he quickly looks to the door at the first creak in it's swing, quickly relaxes when he realizes it's you. but you are just as tense as you were walking up. he wears a navy blue shirt, buttons at the top undone, face contorting from question, to neutrality. slightly unfazed, he turns back to the window. "change your mind about that offer, l/n?" the offer was a quickie. yes, this is why you hate him.
keeping your face void of emotion even in your state of mixed annoyance and trepidation, you clear your throat, walking fully in and shutting the door lightly behind you, but staying shy against it still. you are hesitating to say the words. to stall would be to show your utter nervousness, but you also can't just dive into the topic all together, right? at the same time, you know what you need to do. if it's to be a good friend, you will face the reprimand, the teasing. "that will remain a no, nott."
you hear him huff a small laugh, the clicking of his pen against his desk pausing for a few moments, before he swivels his turning chair and faces you. like some king on a throne, addressing a peasant. you keep your irritation at a minimum, making sure you look just as cool and collected as he does. "well? are you going to tell me why you're here, then? i was under the impression you hated me. showing up at my dorm says otherwise."
he holds a look of mischief on his face you want so badly to slap right off. instead, you dig your nails into the meat of your palms, inhale. "trust me, this is the last thing i want. but.."
his brows raise.
"i... i'm here—" stuttering. big no, "—because.. i am in need.. of something... rather specific."
"are you?" his lips quirk up into the grin you know oh so well. "you have me intrigued."
don't shift. don't breathe. don't move. you have the authority here. right? don't you? force the words out, if worst comes to worst, even when your brain is screaming at you to run, even when you know what this will come to. "i need.. a favor, if you may." this has that stupid grin spreading even more, a huffed laugh escaping his lips. you grit your teeth. no, this is you being a good person. don't get mad. "my friend... she seems to have taken a.. liking to you. alexia. the blonde one. i'm sure you know her."
"has she?" he says humorously, tilting his head slightly back. and fuck, you just shifted. focus on the citrus.
"don't act oblivious to it, nott. i think we both know—"
"choose your words carefully, l/n. you want my help, don't you?"
yes, you do. automatically, your mouth closes. maybe he's the one with the authority here. the spread of his legs, the way he loosely holds his arms, the smile on his lips says so anyway.
swallowing and pausing a moment, you make yourself calm down before starting up again. "she.. hasn't told me explicitly, of course. but as her friend, i'm obligated to know these sorts of things. so i know she at least.. likes you. a little. so, i think it would do you both quite well if you gave her what she wants."
theodore, of course plays the role of oblivious so well. he looks more engaged by the syllable you form, more convinced with each breath you take. to you, he looks his usual self. "and what might that be?"
how annoying can he get? you bite the inside of your cheek, shifting on your feet. "i don't know. maybe.. show a bit of interest in her yourself? or even just... smile at her? compliment her? anything that doesn't involve mocking her to get back at me right in front of her." yes, he'd approached you and her a week before, and already, you knew something would go down. laughing at her for screwing up her potion in class, though? that wasn't what you expected at all. you were witness to the look of utter devastation on her face immediately after. "i think it would be in both of your best interests to just give her what she wants."
nott's brows raise slightly. he tilts his head to the side—such a small gesture, but speaking such measures—and leans forward, pen still in his hand, resting his elbows on his knees. "us both?"
and if you weren't nervous then, you are now. the topic... of sex.. or, rather, romantic intentions... with your enemy? it has your legs itching to run far far far from this room, has your hands begging to fidget and twist and turn. but no, you keep them steady, look at him with those cool eyes. "it's no secret, nott, your body count. at least, the girls you fuck don't keep it one."
now, he has the audacity to smile. his lips pull over his teeth in a full blown grin, and he runs his tongue over them, so perfectly handsome in the incandescent glow of his lamp. your thighs squeeze together unintentionally.
"ah, yes. i suppose you're right." he leans back again, lifting his pen back to his lip. "okay, in that case, that task doesn't seem that bad.. but.." he pauses. for effects, you assume, "i wonder.. how should this concern me, if you hate me as much as you claim?"
and he has a point.
theodore is amused by your jitteriness, you know, having to even dabble in the romance topic with him, your enemy, and for some reason, it's not making you angry. but you don't want to discuss that, even. it is not helping your case at all. "look, i ask of you this small favor, just once. you don't even have to like her, go out with her.. if you could just— be nice, at least? for merlin's sake, you made fun of her clumsiness right in front of her just to get on my nerves last week. you know how much she likes you, theodore." you exhale deeply. "so just give her what you both want. for me."
this seems to amuse him further. nott sure does like to toy with you. he stares at you a moment. "is that a command?"
you inhale sharply, tensing. "no."
theodore squints his eyes slightly at you, his head cocking to the right. "mhm.. and if i... help you... do i get something in return?"
oh lord. you grit your teeth. "of course not. i am not going to pay you to lead my friend on. if you are going to do it, if you are going to be kind, you need to want to. that's the whole point. know, though, if you keep up the teasing act around her, or to her, i swear on all that is good that i will never speak to you again. not even to yell or shout or fight you. you'll just look stupid, following after me, mocking me, knowing you won't get an answer."
his lips part into a more toothy smile, and he breathes a short laugh. "not a command. a threat."
confidence restored, you straighten and push back your shoulders, pride gleaming in your eyes. the last thing you expect is theodore drawing himself out of his seat, into a stand, and staying by the desk. "well, surely, i don't want that, do i?" he quips, shaking his head. "to look stupid?"
when he takes a step forward, you feel everything in you halt. your blood, your heart, your thoughts..
"okay, so say i did help you. you think this would work? this.. flirting? you think i'll sympathize with your case just this once, don't you, y/n?" he's drawing nearer. with each step, you feel your skin tighten around your body more and more. "so tell me, what could i do to help, hm? what could you possibly want me to do with your dear friend, y/n? touch her? kiss her, maybe? fuck her? is that what you want from me?" you refuse to budge. well, your body refuses, paralyzed with fear and trepidation.
your stomach is twisting and turning, and the evidence of your nerves are shown through the red on your cheeks. everything in you tells you to run as he stops a few inches before you, reaching out and skimming his knuckles across your arm. your skin ignites beneath his touch, butterflies dancing merrily in your stomach. "would this work, y/n? touching her like this?" he asks, his eyes rising from his hand, to your own.
in your hazy, slightly horrified state, you stammer out, "probably." the last jab at him using the last of your confidence. your cool demeanor is completely gone now. "whatever you usually do works— works a charm."
your whole body is alert yet relaxed at the same time, sick, horrendous desire coursing coursing coursing through you. theodore voices a short chuckle, and in his proximity, you feel it fan out across your face. the smell of cigarette smoke rides his tongue. "oh, but i'm sure you know exactly what this.. alexia would want from me. at least give me the benefit of your advice.."
now, his hand rises to your face, fingers brushing against skin so sweetly it would pass as the caress of a lover. but nott is no romantic. this is horrible, twisted lust. not attraction. surely, right? "tell me, y/n. is this how i should handle her? so gently? should i look into her eyes as i do you? should i hold her face in the way i hold yours?"
your throat is constricting and contracting, heat is gathering in the spots of flesh he grazes with his nimble fingers. you are utterly ruined, unraveled, ravished before him, but there is still some left of you. could he undo the rest? "i don't know," you somehow manage to choke out, eyes darting to his lips, because as you speak, his dart to yours. there is something wrong with your voice. it's high, and pitchy, and so obviously laced with want you don't know how you're holding up. theodore seems to be thinking the same thing.
he does not care.
he leans in, down, his hand slipping to your ear and tucking away your hair, and his lips press oh so benignly to your lobe, that you almost don't feel it at all. you do feel the words he says next though. they are life and death and reincarnation against your skin. "do you think it would work.." he kisses you there again. "...if i touched her like this? do you think it would seduce her?"
all of you is alight. yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes. yes. it would. because it's working right now. "theodore," you say strictly, almost pulling away. you can't. you don't want to.
"y/n. give me an answer."
and is this how all the woman he beds feels? in the moments leading up to the shedding of clothing? do they also feel this alive, but also so dead? and even the thought of the other girls he's fucked cannot stop you from wanting this want to because something more. you can't remember to hate him, even when it's so obviously there in your mind. your desire is blaring brighter and stronger. it is much more tempting. it always has been, hasn't it?
"if i touched her like i touch you, do you think she'd like it?"
so you say what you know you shouldn't. "yes."
and what a word. what a fucking word. because it is one syllable, and three letters, and it doesn't even mean a lot at all. but it is what has theodore pulling away from the whispers of your hair, staring into your eyes like you just harnessed the stars and offered it up as a christmas present. it is what, in mere seconds, has his lips on yours, and his body against your own, and his hands shoved into your hair, and your back against the door.
your body moves on command. theodore's mouth is soft, supple, but he uses it in such a harsh way. this. this this this this this.
his hands roam everywhere all at once, as if they can't feel enough of you. they skim your waist, up your torso, fly to your jaw... there is a slight furrow in his brow. you are his muse. you are the concentration of his force.
and his tongue is prodding your lips, and prying open your mouth, and exploring exploring exploring exploring. fuck you're wet. have you ever been this damn wet? heat is pooling in your core, aching to be touched by the same fingers he's used to mock you. you're moaning into his mouth, muffled by his sweet movements, and the door you're pressed against is no match for his intensity.
"theodore..." you sigh when he pulls away, hastily admiring the mess he's made of your lipgloss. he tilts his head and licks the remnants off, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced. you can't help but move yourself against him in your desire.
at that, he lets out a low groan, throwing his head slightly back. "fuc— tell me again— what you always say. say— it again," he whispers breathily, his words short and stammered.
brow furrowed and eyes closed, you don't even think to try and guess. "w— what?"
"that you hate me." his voice is perfectly hoarse. "tell me that you hate me again."
you're pulled slightly from your pleasure, forcing your gaze on him. god, he's so beautiful, your lip product smudged on his face, his hair mussed. when has he ever been this beautiful? or has he always been? why have you never really noticed? he's kissing your neck, your jaw, sucking at your skin, and you say the words with such disregard, but such intensity, you know they aren't real. "i hate you."
and he's kissing your lips again. harder. harder and harder. so fucking hard, you're scared your lips and tongue will be bruised by the morning. "i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you—" you repeat over and over again into his hair as he nips and licks, hands tangled in his hair, as if reciting a spell, a mockery of the school work long forgotten. he makes a sound like a grunt, and suddenly, he's pulling you off the door by the waist and pushing you onto his bed, crawling over you, his lips never once leaving your body. "i hate you so much, it's all i can think about sometimes."
and his grip on your hips tighten until it's painful in that sick, pleasurable way. then, he's kissing down your jaw, sucking and nipping the whole way, like he can't get enough. because he can't. your hands find themselves in his hair, pulling, tangling, squeezing, as you moan out into the warm, citrusy air. "this is a bad idea..." his lips end up on your collarbone, biting into the bone. you arch your back into his touch, wanting more.
"i know." his hand trails down your torso, then under your tank top, feeling the cloth of your bra underneath. and his voice is so raspy and breathy, you question if you ever truly hated him at all, like you always liked to say you do. this doesn't feel much like hate. this doesn't even feel like dislike. "fuck, y/n."
and it's all too fucking much. "theodore— fu— please.."
he's running his hands along the plains of your breasts through your bra, and it's everything all at once. he looks up at you with those dead eyes, studies your face. "yea? you want this? you want my cock?" and he presses a kiss to your collarbone.
when your only answer is a moan, though, he's leaning back up to your face and retracting his touch from beneath your shirt, grabbing your jaw and forcing your eyes on his. his thumb presses against your lips, forcing your mouth open, and hooking on your teeth. "use your words, y/n."
in your haze, you nod at the same time you breathe, "yes, please, theodore. want it— s— so bad.."
at that, he's smiling, straightening, pushing your shirt over your head and throwing it who knows where. he leans back into a kneel to admire your breasts, before sinking back down and trailing sloppy kisses from your neck, to the hem of your bra. you mewl and whimper, hands gripping his hair, as his hand explores, sinking to the clasp and quickly undoing it. when he's pulled off the skimpy cloth, he wastes no time latching his lips to the peaked bud of your nipple, licking and nipping gently. you arch your breasts into his face, crying out as a new wave of pleasure hits. his hand gently travels to your other boob and pinches your nipple, palming the soft flesh.
"so fucking beautiful—" he whispers softly, pulling back to admire you again. with your head thrown back and your brows furrowed, such a look of pure desire twisted into your face, you might just be the most beautiful thing on earth. he can't help but lean forward and kiss you messily again. "god, y/n."
and you can't remember a time where your name on his tongue was anything close to annoying or irritating. he pulls away. "fuck me, theo—" you stammer out, looking at him with such lust, voice almost like a whine, and perhaps it's the nickname, that has him halting slightly, that has him hovering silently over you, searching your eyes, like he might need to hear the words again to confirm, before reaching down and quickly unbuttoning your pants, shoving his hand inside without even bothering to pull them down a bit. either way, you're not complaining. you throw your head back when his finger circles your clit through your panties, pressing ever so slightly yet eliciting moan after moan from you.
"so wet.. you're fucking soaking. is all this for me, baby?" he whispers, watching your face as his fingers toy and play, pulling the fabric aside and teasing teasing teasing. you buck against his hand, desperate for pleasure.
"y— yes! mhmm— fuck—" you choke out, nodding your head rapidly and stupidly along. a smile ghosts across his lips, and the look on his face—if you could see it—would tell you he's feeling like the luckiest man alive. he looks down at where his hand is touching you, retracting it and studying the glistening liquid on his fingers.
"shit," you hear him utter, forcing your eyes to where he's assessing, and the sight has you mewling for more. when his gaze meets yours, he looks utterly lost in desire. "you're driving me crazy, l/n." he drops his hand to the hem of your pants, stare still fixated on your eyes, and drags your jeans and panties down down down your legs.
watching it feels like reading a poem. you throw your head back as cold air hits your soaking pussy, whining shamefully. but his eyes are still on yours, watching, as his finger lightly begins tracing the line of your slit. a gasp, your body tensing. the "theo.." that falls from your lips has him growing harder than he's ever been, and yet, he quietly just teases your entrance, running his digit up and down until you're begging, clenching around open air.
"please, theo.." you plead, meeting his eyes. they look up at you from between your legs, and it is a sight that could make you release then and there. you squirm, a mewl leaving your lips.
and that is his cue. he shoves two fingers inside you without warning, curling them and pumping then in and out of your soaking pussy faster than your brain can comprehend what's happening, while his thumb traces your slit. you choke on a moan, your back beaming off the bed, your mouth falling open. "shit—! theo— oh god—!"
his fingers working at you, theodore gives a curse, studying your pretty pussy. "so tight.. how m'i gonna fit, hm?" he mutters to himself, looking back at you and almost bucking against the bed at the sight. damn, you're so fucking beautiful. he leans back up, kissing and biting down your body as his fingers abuse your cervix. your slick wets his hand, running down his palm, and you moan and mewl and beg, breathing heavily, while he murmurs and blows against your skin.
"i know, i know, baby," he whispers into your neck, trailing sloppy bites over your body until he meets your clit. he retracts his finger, and you whine desperately, thinking he's teasing you, but then, his tongue is licking a stripe up your pussy and his thumb, spreading you open. you cry out all over again, throwing your head back, your fingers finding his hair and tangling themselves in, pushing his face closer. your thighs wrap around his head as he spears his tongue inside you, lapping at your wetness like it's his last meal on earth. "taste— so good, baby.." he speaks between licks.
the sound of your cries and wet licking is all you know right now. your back is arching off the bed over and over again with each delve inside you. all while he stares straight at the glistening plains of your face, screwed in desire, mouth open around all your moans. he keeps a hand on one hip to hold you steady, and one above your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit.
"theo theo theo theo," you repeat in the same way you promised falsely that you hated him moments earlier, grinding yourself on his face. he hums as he licks, and it sends vibrations through your core, his name growing louder and louder with each passing second. "fuck, theo! fuc— ahh—!"
and this should last forever, his tongue lapping and lapping and spearing inside you, his eyes on your face as you take it like he always dreamed you would. his lips latch around the bud at the top of your clit, and it has your legs shaking around his ears, a curse choking out of your throat as you realize you're almost at that edge. almost. there. "i'm gonna— fuck— theo— cumming—!"
and he pulls away.
almost immediately, your pleasure halts. without his tongue, your orgasm is failed, nothing. your movements still. you go quiet. everything goes quiet. confused, frustrated, angry. that's what you are. the magic is gone. you're back to earth, and it is much bleaker than you remember. "what the fuck—?" and when you look down, theodore is standing up, wiping your juices from his face and licking them clean off his fingers. "theo—"
and you think maybe he's going to start again, when he climbs back over you, kissing his way from your collarbone, to your jaw, your fingers confusedly tangling into his hair again. his teeth latch onto the lobe of your ear, tug, and let go, and then.. "tell me, y/n, do you think your dear alexia would like that?"
and quiet ensues, and shock mars onto your face, your lips parting, your eyes going wide, and your blood goes dead cold. nott, with a couple of words, has just ripped a rug from beneath your feet. and you're left on the cold, hard ground, searching for words. and he hovers over your ear like that a moment, all lost, shivers running down your bare spine that was once bounding off this very bed, his bed, and then he's pulling off of you and standing at the edge of the mattress, staring at you with that smug fucking look on his face.
"we'd better hope, hm?" are his last words. and he's gone.
.
for my book girlys, yes, this was inspired by THAT scene in the wicked king (holly black) because CARDAN AND JUDE ARE SOSOSOOSDBDHHEBE 😻😻
go read the cruel prince if you haven't yet!!
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WIBTA for going out if I don't have to?
Huge oversimplification, obviously. Basically, I'm disabled, in a way that makes it very difficult for me to keep up my hygiene (showering etc - I do wash my hands). I do my best, of course, and it's something I'm working on improving. But it's still nowhere near as good as it should be.
When I do have to go out, I try to use products to cover up any bad smell I may have, but I feel a huge amount of guilt for 'inflicting' said smell on other people. I know this might just be me being overdramatic, but it ends up with me trying to avoid going out if I don't absolutely have to.
The thing is, I /want/ to go out. Staying at home all the time is definitely not good for my mental health, and probably just piles on top of my other problems to make hygiene (among everything else I have trouble with) even harder. I want to go out and do things. I want to have fun and not just be stuck at home all the time outside of things I /have/ to do.
But I don't want to force people to have to deal with having to smell me, and that feels like it's technically 'more important', especially since the problem /is/ technically 'my fault'. WIBTA if I went out and did things around other people that I don't really have to, or should I wait until/unless I can fix my hygiene, regardless of how long that takes/if it ever happens?
If it matters, some extra pieces of info - my sense of smell got messed up by Covid, so I can't really tell if/how badly I smell, or if the products I use are enough to cover it up - I just have a constant fear that I do smell. Only a few people have commented on it in the past, and it hasn't happened in a while, but I don't know how much of that is just people trying to be polite.
Also, for the record, this is not bait or me seeking sympathy or anything like that. I genuinely want to know people's thoughts/verdict. Thank you!
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jm-2406 · 2 days
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Just a ring.
Summary - “he has asked me to marry him but I had to come here first. I need to know if you feel anything… anything at all for me.”
Pairing - Theodore Nott x reader; Male OC x reader.
Word count - 2150.
Warnings - infidelity, flashbacks in italics, grown up theo & reader.
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Cursive words made their way across the document as he led the pen from left to right, every movement a study in perfection. A famous business wizard like Theodore Nott who hailed from a high class pure blood family, couldn't afford anything less than perfection. He pursed his lips as he focused on getting his signature just right, reading the already typed composition. Mergers, especially one as important as this one needed to be dealt with utmost care, and a very carefully crafted ‘brown nosing’ letter never hurt anyone.
He was feeling very pleased with his efforts when a loud noise from outside his office startled him. Throwing an angry glare towards the closed door, he cursed the person who disturbed him.
“You can't go in there Miss. He's very busy.” His secretary's voice reached his ears. “To hell with his schedule. I don't care.” The other voice responded sharply and he knew who that other person was. He mentally prepared himself for the upcoming drama, tiredly rubbing his eyes.
“I'm sorry Mr. Nott, this—this Woman refused to make an appointment. Should I escort her out?”
Theodore eyed the girl in front of him; she stared back defiantly, challenging him. He wouldn't throw her out but that didn't mean that he couldn't make her sweat. The young woman in front of him started to fidget nervously the longer Theodore kept staring at her without a word. “It's okay Riya. You're excused.” The woman heaved a sigh of relief at his words.
Theodore turned to her and said coldly. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? What is it, [Y/L/N]? Say your piece and spare me. I am too busy to hear your rambling right now.”
[Y/N] scoffed, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to protect herself from his coldness. “Wow. So you can speak more than three words at a time and just my luck that you use them to dismiss me. ‘[Y/L/N]’, ‘my piece’... You are so intolerable Theodore.”
“Then why are you here, love?” He retorted flippantly but her next words made him stop his work.
“He knows…”
“Who knows what, [Y/N]?”
“Alex… he found your waistcoat under the bed… the one you forgot to put on because of some ‘important’ business.” She confessed, her voice shaky. She paused and then opened her mouth to continue, her voice cracking. “He didn't even ask who it belonged to. He said that it didn't matter. He blamed himself, you know…For being gone so often.”
Theodore kept staring at the papers on his desk, completely still. He didn't know what kind of response she was expecting but his mind went blank. He was about to say something when she dropped the final bomb. “He has asked me to marry him.”
Her eyes finally rose up from the floor. He could feel her willing him to look back at her; willing him to show any emotion. But the man kept staring at his desk, forcing himself to pick up the document and continue his letter.
“I haven't answered him yet.” She admitted, “I had to come here first. I had to see you, but you've been avoiding me and… I just need to know if you feel anything, anything at all for me.” She waited for him to respond, waited for any sign from him but he was as cold as ice and just as frozen as he signed his name at the end of his letter.
He continued his work robotically and took a breath only after hearing her footsteps shuffling closer to the door. “I meant what I said that night… I still do.” She whispered and then she was gone, missing the look that crossed his face.
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After crying her heart out, [Y/N] kept staring at the end of the room blankly, her mind still stuck on everything that has happened in her life recently. “I am stronger than this.” She whispered to herself. Her head fell against the back of the couch, and she curled a leg up beside her, wrapping her arms around it as she glanced out the window.
It never should have happened, she knew that now, but she still couldn't bring herself to regret that it had. It had all started about six months ago, she and Alex had been having a lot of arguments around that time.
“You promised!” She raised her voice, fed up with his attitude.
“I know babe but this is urgent.” Alex said softly, trying to pacify her but it made her angrier instead.
“Fine. Go wherever you want to. Do whatever you want. But I am not going to keep changing my plans according to you every time. I am going to attend the Christmas Eve party… with or without you.”
“No. You can't do that [Y/N]. What will they say? My reputation will be thrashed.”
“Oh I can and I will. If you care about your ‘reputation’ then come to the event with me.” She asked one last time but only got a shake of head in return as Alex took his briefcase and apparated.
There at the party, [Y/N] found herself in the company of none other than Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherin guys from a year above her. She had never interacted with him outside of the classes. Though she didn't trust him, she couldn't disagree that the man was charming. A few drinks later, she found herself up against a wall in one of the vast deserted hallways, moaning and thoroughly enjoying herself with a man that most definitely was not her boyfriend. That was how it all started.
Secret correspondence and casual meetings followed. Every time she would receive one of his notes or calls, she would hesitate and every time she gave in. She couldn't stop herself; he made her feel passionate, naughty, and desirable. It was everything she never felt with Alex thus she became addicted.
Over time, their pattern seemed to change. It started with simple words after they were intimate and soon she found herself spending nights in his house. It went to a point where she would see Alex maybe once in two or three weeks for a date and spend almost every other day with Theodore.
After sometime she realized that her feelings for the two men had begun to change. Theodore had become her confidant and lover. On the other hand she found herself forgetting about the dates with Alex, arriving late when he called her, zoning out when he talked to her. She was figuring out what to do when the unexpected happened.
They were lying in his bed, quietly content after a night full of activity when her lips, engaged by a sleepy mind, betrayed her. “I think… I love you.” Time froze. In one swift movement, her lover had stood from the bed and had placed his robe around his shoulders, apparating away.
She remembered how she had sat there; hurt and humiliated beyond belief. It had taken all the strength and courage that she could muster to get dressed and leave that night. That was two weeks ago.
Truth to be told, when Alex had found Theodore's waistcoat under her bed, she felt relieved. Everything would be out in the open, she could move on but once again reality turned out to be quite different than her thoughts. Alex opened up to her about his behaviour and promised to work less, be with her more and that he wanted to marry her. Before she could blink, he was down on his knee, proposing to her.
“I… I need time, Alex.”
Now here she was, lamenting unrequited love and cursing her fate.
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A week later -
[Y/N] pushed open the door of her flat with a tired sigh. She tossed her shoes into their space in her coat closet with one hand as she released the clip that held her hair with the other. Moving towards the kitchen cabinet, she uncorked the wine bottle and took a sip directly from the bottle.
“Long day?” A deep voice asked her.
She turned on her feet and observed the man in front of her. Theodore was sitting on the couch as if he owned the place. “What. Do. You. Want?” She asked slowly, proud of the bitterness in her voice. “Theodore…”
He didn't verbally respond; calling her to him with a gesture of his hands. She wanted to shout at him but she couldn't. He made her weak. He reached up with his fingers for her left hand, his thumb brushing over the plain gold band that sat there.
“I'm engaged…” She tried to stop the teasing fingertips from continuing their journey of exploring her body.
“Well… you're not married yet. It's just a ring.” He whispered, holding her face to make her look at him. She felt the pads of his fingertips gripping the ring on her third finger and slowly sliding it off. A metallic clink resonated in her ears as the ring fell to the floor.
The fight drained out of her as she sunk into her lover's arms. Her knees folding under her as his lips joined with hers. She knew that this night would be their final goodbye.
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“Where is your engagement ring?”
“I… I must have forgotten it.”
“Forgotten it? On the night of our engagement party?” Alex questioned incredulously. They were interrupted by some other guests and they easily fell into the conversation, saving [Y/N] from trying to come up with more lies.
“How are you doing, Codnor?” Another voice interrupted the couple. Alex cursed seeing the person who disturbed his conversation with his fiancèe.
“How did you even enter, Nott? This is an invitation only party so kindly leave before I kick you out.”
Theodore smirked, raising his closed fist over [Y/N]'s glass of champagne. One by one he uncurled his fingers, dropping something small and shiny. Alex had a look of confusion and shock on his features as he realized that in the glass was [Y/N]'s engagement ring.
“I know I wasn't invited, Codnor, but I am here to collect what's mine… don't look so shocked. She hasn't been yours for a while.”
Before she could think, Alex punched Theodore, hard… and a fight started between the two. Alex's parents changed the topic and sent the guests on their way to save their image of respectful people. It wasn't until [Y/N] physically pulled Theodore back that he stopped. Even though Alex was almost as tall as Theodore, he was no match for his muscles and strength.
“When did this… this thing start? Tell me everything, [Y/N]… honestly this time.” Alex pleaded.
“Six months ago. I was angry at you and I know it is wrong but… when I did go to the party, alone, no one paid any attention to me. Didn't even greet me with a simple ‘hello’. I felt as though I was only someone if I was with you. I felt so worthless. Theodore was at the party. He annoyed me and I took my anger out on him… I don't know how but the next thing I remember is kissing him; one thing lead to another and here we are… I am sorry Alex. I don't deserve you.”
Alex scoffed. He left immediately after throwing the ring down. His mouth did not say a word but his eyes conveyed the anger and disgust he was feeling at her.
[Y/N] turned to Theodore. “Well. It was a long day. Thank you for ruining my engagement party. Now I think we should go.” She stood from her chair but Theodore pulled her back by her wrist, making her sit on his lap. “What is it?” She asked him.
“You asked me that day, if I feel anything at all for you. The answer is, I don't. I feel everything for you, Miss [Y/N] [Y/L/N].” He said cupping her face in his hands and pressed his lips on hers.
She smiled in their kiss knowing for sure that the man whom she gave her heart to would do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy now that he finally realised what she meant to him.
THE END.
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Note - i have written a Tommy Shelby version of this one, you can find it here if you are interested. I thought this one screams “Theo” so why not make a Theo version too.
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lover-of-mine · 2 days
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i'm freaking out because someone who watched the episode in the media was asked if after the episode will their be new buddie theories and she said she already has one but won't reveal it till after the episode. Which you can basically take that to mean something is going to happen with buck and eddie that's going to have fans theorizing/speculating after the episode. I'm honestly thinking that it's gonna be heavily teased that something happened between buddie at or after the bachelor party. like a charged moment or almost kiss but it won't be revealed at all in the episode. we will get like a glimpse of it and only eddie is going to remember pieces of it which will lead into his catholic guilt arc. and we're gonna spend the rest of the season trying to figure out what actually happened between buddie after the bachelor party and Eddie's gonna be keeping this huge secret from Buck.
it won't be revealed till the finale or something. My money is ultimately when the puzzle forms it's that buck and eddie almost kissed after the bachelor party but got interrupted by one of their many many party guests and by the finale I see Buck remembering what happened as well.
Suffice to say something is happening between buddie in this episode enough that media already has a buddie theory and she'll post it after the episode which means it will feature spoilers from this episode speculating a theory regarding buddie so that means something happens in this episode that's gonna lead fans to speculate about buddie and what happened between them?
Bestie, I literally wrote this as a fic idea right after 705 soaksasokasasok like, with how all over each other buddie seems to be you can ABSOLUTELY have a charged moment between them that doesn't connect just because they got interrupted and we don't see it until one of them talks about it later on, probably Eddie to someone, maybe Frank, and have that trigger Eddie's sexuality arc within the guilt arc, like, legit, I can see it happening, I mostly don't think the show would actually go for it, but honestly, this season keeps surprising me so... but it is a way to trigger Eddie's sexuality arc using Buck without pulling the trigger on buddie too soon, and keeping Buck oblivious to what's actually going on with Eddie while letting Buck explore his bisexuality outside of Eddie and Eddie trying to work through his own feelings would be nice. And it would be a nice parallel to Buck freaking about lying to Eddie about the date with T (because they LOVE to parallel the two of them), because Eddie would totally feel like he has to lie, because one, he doesn't understand what it means for him, two, he doesn't understand what it means for the both of them, and three if Buck is going to be infatuated about T, he wouldn't sabotage that, four, he still needs to deal with the searching for Shannon of it all, and this is a way to put the ball completely on Buck's court AND it is a way to address the emotional power imbalance that exists within buddie, because Eddie calls the shots a lot and that can't keep happening for them to be a good couple, yk? They can make Eddie explicitly make another unilateral decision about their relationship on the idea that he just knows Buck so well and knows how he's going to react, the whole I'm not enough thing could come back or just straight up use the I feel like she sees me and the I kinda can't stop thinking about him for Eddie to just decide that Buck was just too drunk and it wasn't really about him or about Buck wanting to make that change in their relationship or having feelings for him, and just expect Buck to go with it, and to have Buck reach that point where he realizes what happened and he decides to force Eddie into that conversation, I'm game, dude, like, legit, would love that. Even more, if we have some sort of emergency where both of them are in danger (trapped dads/drown Buck I will never give up on you) and you have Eddie aware to some degree and Buck being Buck without actually knowing until something happens and he's like OH FUCK and we can have the beginning of s8 addressing the will they do something about it or just keep pretending it's not there until they figure out they don't really have a choice, it's where they were going all along (buddie getting together 804 aka 100 episodes after Eddie got introduced maybe?), like, they can even have some conversation being interrupted, you can have things being said during the emergency they just don't have the chance to talk about, with the recovery or things going to hell or actually being interrupted by everyone and everything around them, especially if T is still in the mix, you can have the emergency be a season finale cliffhanger because they already have s8 confirmed and they never did a season cliffhanger and I feel like we are due one soon, and things would only be dealt with later. There's a lot to explore if something almost happens with them being drunk, and Eddie remembers but Buck doesn't. You can even add stuff like making Eddie work himself through his reactions to Buck so far or straight up confirm he has some level of awareness that his feelings for Buck are not all that platonic (Eddie fell first essay I will never give up on you) he just didn't know how to interpret that yet. It would open some fun possibilities, and considering the insistence on the triangle imagery, to make it an actual media love triangle by finally connecting the Buck and Eddie's side on a romantic level? It would add up.
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roguekhajiit · 3 days
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A debate I had on Reddit about abortion rights.
The person I'm arguing with is an active participant of the Mensa subreddit, so they already fancy themselves a genius to some extent.
Me:
No arms, no legs, no heart, no brain. Just a blood vessel pumping blood from the host to the clump of cells.
And the "But there's a heartbeat" excuse is a lie. You're only hearing the host's blood pumping into cells cause the heart isn't fully formed until 10 weeks. Additionally, the brain isn't even fully developed until 24 weeks. No heart organ, no brain, it's not a viable life outside its host body.
Them:
Yeah that's an empirical argument to deny ontology. That's not convincing to anyone who thinks there is an essence to being human that isn't tied to having arms and legs.
Me:
I'm sorry, but are you trying to use philosophy to argue whether or not someone is capable of living without a heart, brain, and lungs?
Them:
How do you determine what is human and what is not? Arms and legs? What do you call someone without arms and legs? Or a mechanic heart? You can't answer the question 'what is human' based on physical qualities only. So yes, logically you cannot answer the question without philosophy.
Me:
I think you are confusing personhood with the human species.
A person is someone who can think, breathe, and exist on their own. They have a personality and their own opinions on subjects like abortion.
A human being or homo sapiens is a species on earth that evolved enough to form social groups and cultures and, therefore, are capable of personhood. Some other more complex animals might be capable of personhood, like Koko the Gorilla. She was intelligent, learned to communicate using sign language, and even had her own pet.
I'm not discussing this subject in terms of personhood. A fetus isn't developed enough to form a sense of personhood if it can't even survive on its own at 2 months gestation.
Them:
I'm talking about the essence of what makes one a living human. As long as pregnant women before the 3rd month believe they're carrying a child, which is all of them who want to *keep* the child, I am not appealed by the argument that it's suddenly no longer a child but rather a fetus for biological/scientific/empirical reasons when there are various financial and social advantages of it being so.
The points you mention are even still different from mine.
Me:
>The points you mention are even still different from mine.
Correct because again, you fail to see the point of the argument.
You yourself say;
>As long as pregnant women before the 3rd month believe they're carrying a child, which is all of them who want to *keep* the child,
That's all fine and dandy cause it's her *choice* to do so, not yours and not the government's. But it's not yours or anyone else's place to force your philosophical or religious views on an entire nation and bully us all into following them by making your opinions a law.
Them:
It's a choice to recognise a human as a human, you're saying? So where's the end to that travesty of logic? A cat is a dog, a man is a woman, that dog is a man and that man is a dog. That's a wild world you're living in. I don't see the world that way, it defeats both logic and common sense. But it surely makes a way to justify doing whatever the hell you like doing. I won't force morality on you, but I'll tell you when it's absent.
Me:
Again, you're trying to use philosophy to argue science, and that gets us nowhere. I already stated I'm not talking from a philosophical standpoint.
You can see the world however you want. Your morals aren't always going to line up with your neighbors morals. Your neighbor might think it's immoral to eat any kind of meat. Are you gonna give up that steak dinner cause they can smell it in their living room? How would you feel if the entire government decided eating meat is a crime and, therefore, it's banned and you go to jail just for eating a hamburger. Kinda sucks when other people force their philosophy and religion on you by passing laws to get their way.
Now I know you're gonna be like, "But you can't compare pregnancies to diets!" But you're already equating philosophy with science. So, let me give you another scenario.
Do you like eggs? Eggs are just undeveloped chickens who were denied the ability to develop and hatch. Will you give up your eggs and bacon just because your vegan neighbor says it's immoral?
Since to you personhood and human are one and the same. Say aliens decide to visit earth; they have arms and legs and a brain, can speak, express emotions, and have their own culture. Are they human? Do we give them the same rights as you and me even though they weren't born on earth and are basically invading our planet? Or are they just displaying personhood?
If you say yes, they are human and deserve the same rights as you and me, then you also need to give those same rights to the "illegal aliens" that cross the border.
Why are undeveloped fetuses given more rights to life than families with children who are trying to seek a better life? Why do we value a fetus over the actual baby? Once it's born, if the mother says she needs help, she's scorned and looked down on for asking for WIC, foodstamps, and cash benefits to help feed and cloth her baby. She should have thought of that before deciding to have a baby, right? But if she decides she's unable to afford a baby, and she can't afford to take time off because the pregnancy is making it hard for her to work, she's called a murderer for seeking an abortion.
To pro-life advocates, a fetus is more important before it's born than after it's born. And you won't convince me otherwise. The same people pushing for abortion bans, banning mifepristone (a drug that's also necessary to help with incomplete miscarriages), and even simple birth control are the same people who vote to cut funding to welfare programs, free lunch programs, and to entire school districts. That's not very pro-life of them now, is it?
-------
They gave up the argument after that.
I could have converted this into a rant solely from my perspective, but I felt it would be better just to copy it as a script.
Pro-lifers are not actually pro-life. They are just anti-women and anti-choice. If they actually cared about the fetus, they would care about it after its born by passing laws and regulations that would ensure the child has the best quality of life possible and every chance to succeed. Instead, time and again, they vote against those laws.
They don't care about the fetus once it's born. Why is that? Could it be that their true goal all along is to force women back into submission because they romanticize the bygone era of the 1800s and early 1900s when women didn't hold jobs, didn't vote, and couldn't do anything without their husband's explicit permission?
I dunno, that's just the vibe I get from the anti-choice supporters. Why else would they say things like, "Stop riding dick if you can't take accountability." But then start foaming at the mouth when you remind them accountability goes both ways. When's the last time they made a child support payment?
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bulk4wives · 2 days
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In the dark room, the wife and husband were no longer able to resist their frenzied passion. As romantic quests go, this was a dangerous encounter. Her husband slept two doors down. Woman's panties lying on the floor.
She sat on the edge of the leather-covered desk, spreading her legs wide. My tongue swirled around her soft folds, caressing every inch of her sensitive flesh, and every now and then I passed across her clit.
As she approached the brink of orgasm, she stood up and impaled the anaconda deep inside her wet, white pussy. The head penetrated her tight hole, stretching, filling her as it penetrated between her legs. She's crushed and on her knees being fucked with lecherous abandon.
She dug her nails into the leather surface, arching her back from the desk as I pounded her tight mouth with rough jabs.
I grabbed her by the waist.
In the hallway, outside the room, the husband was lurking. That little pair between your thumb and index finger. He beat himself up and spied on us. Unable to tear his eyes from the scene, as she begged me for more.
The woman's moans echoed down the corridor. His wife with me only served to inflame his shameful joy. He's almost at his peak.
She moaned soft and sensual as the sensation of my huge cock invading her went deeper.
When I finally forced my cock all the way in, I paused for a moment. This allowed them to catch their breath. Then I hit again, and we hit each other in a wild rhythm.
My hands left her waist
It found its way to include her abundant breasts. I tore the bra off her. I pinched and yanked on her nipples and dominated her.
With a growling growl, I delved deeper into her welcoming body. I slapped our skins together wetly as we moved together in unison. Wild throat sounds escaped our lips with every sultry impact. We became breathing heavier, exerting effort as my speed increased.
I placed my lips on her mouth, kissing her passionately while pounding her body relentlessly
She tasted herself on my tongue and loved it. Our tongues danced together as our hips continued to slam together without mercy.
I grunted and slapped my fat snake against the wife's shiny pink lips once more before thrusting deep into her wet snatch once more.
She was moaning and gasping for air. She felt every inch of me as I stretched her tight insides.
My hands grabbed her buttocks, and I quickened my pace. I pounded on her with furious speed.
Our hips bumped in sync,
Each stroke sent gentle vibrations through our bodies that echoed throughout the dark room. The leather desk creaked under the weight of our movements.
I groaned deeply as I picked up speed, slamming into her wet hood over and over again to a drumbeat of lustful rhythm that bounced throughout the nearly empty house. Sweat beaded on our bodies as we moved together in unison. We groaned and groaned with no regard for privacy..
He watched the pair stroke himself faster and faster as he approached his climax.
In the heat of passion, I slapped the wife's ass, leaving a red mark.
“You like that, bitch?”
She moaned louder.
I tightened my grip on my legs. I'm getting close to my climax.
Seeing his wife submit to my ferocious touches generated jealousy and arousal in him. Her brutal cries for me to fuck her harder.
He spat his little drops onto the door and fell onto the old oak, dripping onto the floor.
Our movements became frantic, our breaths became ragged, lost in a primal dance of lust and desire. My balls slapped against her ass cheeks with each deep thrust, announcing my impending climax.
She screamed, her body tensing as her orgasm rocked her, her fuck hole pressing against my victorious prick. I grunted louder, bucking my hips hard as I sprayed hot seed deep into her, calling her his.
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We collapsed together at the desk, panting and exhausted, our bodies still together, our hearts beating in tandem.
The husband slid back into his bed. The evidence of his humiliating consent gathered for the earth to see.
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sillybayo · 3 days
Text
Bayo's Black Rose Arc Analysis
Some notes before I begin:
-This ramble/essay contains heavy discussions of CSA, general sexual themes, and incest. Also, keep in mind that the characters discussed here are 12-17. While I will be looking into how sex affects them mentally and such, I will not tolerate child sexualization here. I will block anyone who makes a single weird comment or make me uncomfortable. We'll be talking about this from a pure psychological standpoint.
-This is a thought dump rather than anything formal, so I won't be dropping episode titles or numbers. I'm also going purely off of memory, and things I said in group chats. So if things lack clarity, this is why.
-I'm not saying I "cracked the black rose arc code" or anything, this is purely my interpretation that I wish to share, due to not seeing many black rose analysis', and being displeased with what some people have said and concluded. I just want to put what I think out there for others to enjoy :3.
-To avoid being repetitive and cluttered, I'll be generally referring to any character who pulls swords out as "wielders", and any character who has had a sword pulled out of them as "sheaths". Any scene where this transpires will be called a "sheathing scene."
-Once again, due to the material of this analysis, I will be blocking anyone who sexualizes the characters in notes, or anyone who I see as creepy.
With that out of the way, let us begin :3!
So I was watching rgu video essays one day, and I stumbled across one about Miki. About halfway or late into the video, they begin talking about how Miki and Kozue had sex in the black rose arc, due to the way she touched him before the sheathing scene, and the way he turned beet red when Nanami asked how it felt for the sword to be taken out. And I thought it made sense at the time, as I was still new to utena, and I only watched it once. And the allegory is clearly there in other black rose sheathing scenes (besides with utenanthy), right?
But then I thought about it more when I rewatched the juriori black rose episode a year or so later, and caught Juri blushing when Nanami asked her the same question. And...wait. Because doesn't all of the black rose sheathing scenes look..uncomfortable? The sheath cries in pain as the sword comes out of their chest, and Wakaba even forced it out of Saionji. And this weirded me out, because why would a show thats so clearly against rape of any kind go on to write something like this? Why did Miki and Juri blush about something that was so forceful? And even if they were under a mind controlled like state, why would they write the wielders to be rapists? With the way rgu writes sex and rape, it didn't seem right, y'know?
So a few months later, when I decided to continue my rewatch and reached the Wakaba black rose arc episode, thats when I truly started to think about it more. And thats when I reached a conclusion: Miki and Juri are more influenced by Touga and Saionji than they realize. And by extension, they're all influenced by Akio.
You see, Touga and Saionji clearly view Anthy as someone to be sexualized. Shes their wife, who would fulfill their every request. Even though they might not know Anthys and Akios relationship, and/or how the latter treats her, this is an undeniable shared mindset.
Even though the boys and Utena uses Anthy as a sheath in the exact same ways on the outside, you know that when its with Touga and Saionji, its sexualized. They own her. When Touga demands Anthy to kiss his sword, it feels so off that Utena couldn't bare to watch. You could argue that its because it would hurt Anthys lips, but in later episodes its clear that it isn't the issue, as Utena uses the same powerup but in a more supportive fashion rather than sexual. So whats up with that?
I say; in (most of) the wielders view, the sword is like a penis.
I know, a very silly thing to say. But I don't mean exactly. And I, of course, don't mean literally.
Do you know that scene from the scream movie, where the two guys are stabbing each other, begging for it and all? It definitely has sexual undertones, because of the mood set by the characters, and heres where I'm getting at; the idea of a long pointed object being thrusted in you.
What I think is that Anthy is so sexualized by the student council, that the idea of a simple sword being pulled out of her 14 year old south asian brown girl chest, is arousing.
So when each of the student council members become sheaths themselves, of course they think that its one of the most sexually intimate things to experience. And its so stupid, right? Its just a sword. a SWORD.
And I shouldn't be referring to the student council so generally, because Nanami is the only one who sees through this. As far as I remember, she wasn't weird in the slightest when she was Tsuwabukis sheath. And even in the apocalypse arc, shes uncomfortable when Touga kisses her, and disturbed when walking in on Akio and Anthy (but then again I haven't rewatched that episode yet, so I could be wrong). She purely meant to ask how the sword felt, with no sexual intent. Miki and Juri were just pure idiots on that part.
So then, wait, if the sword pulling in the black rose arc wasn't a metaphor for rape, then what is it?
Well, I argue that it black rose wielders follow the same mindset as some sexual assaulters when they're under the effects of Mikages reverse therapy, in a way. Its the strong feeling of thinking the sheath owes the wielder something, and that the wielder deserves it no matter what they say.
Another reference to a different piece of media, but remember when its revealed that Pearl continued to fuse with Garnet for her own personal wants, which crossed Garnets boundaries? People interpreted that scene as Pearl raping Garnet, when....no. What? Of course she isn't. Its just the general idea of your wishes being disrespected, and boundaries ignored. Do you see where I'm going with this?
The black rose wielders see something in the sheaths that they want for themselves, whether it be their love, their attention, or some secret third thing. So with nothing but entitlement and desperation in their heart, they force the sword out of their hearts, where their desires lie.
But, wait. How about other scenes with swords? Like when Anthy is Utenas sheath, and when Anthy has a thousand swords stabbed into her? Do swords still represent desire?
Well, yes! Very easily. Utena fights for the pure sake of love and friendship. She fights Saionji when hes cruel to Wakaba, and she swears to protect Anthy with all her heart. She duels with the strongest ounce of care in her soul. Thats the desire to keep her loved ones happy.
What about when Anthy what continuously impaled? Well, that was the villages desire to get to the prince. And it was Akios desire to finally revolutionize the world after so long.
I may be missing a few scenes, but this is the general idea, and I hope I got the idea across. Thats the end of my little ramble :3. As an acespec hypersexual, I already spend a lot of time deconstructing the truth behind sexual things and feelings. So this was fun to think about. I hope y'all liked this, and understood it most importantly. Toodleeess
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scekrex · 3 days
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I'm so very obsess with your Overlord!reader storyline, it's just so soft, like it give me the vibe of 'bird in a gilded cage', but in 'the world outside is ugly and cruel and I want you to be surround with beauty and comfort' kind of way, just quietly comfy.
Also a prompt, how about for some reason or another, reader has to go to an overlord meeting but Adam is rather clingy plus he hasn't went outside since reader brought him there so he decided to take Adam with him while also making it a night on the town kind of thing. It's Hell but with reader long time there, he manage to find decent enough places to take Adam to. Obviously they got bothered, some even offered to buy Adam, but with the fact Adam is a still a powerfull angel and reader is longlived Overlord despite his relative anonymosity, they had a fun enough date and made it home unscathed
I love Overlord!Reader x Adam so fucking much, keep em asks coming bc I'll write for em til I die. Their dynamic is just absolutely adorable.
Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3
I'm not likely to kick a head in, but I'll curb stomp a bitch if she objects at our wedding
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
“Adam,” you hummed softly as the first man wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. The entire week the former angel had tried to talk you into taking him with you, he had asked you over and over again but you had always refused. The world outside of the mansion was different, less pure and less safe. It was a battlefield, even without the exterminations hell was many things, brutal, bloody, cold-hearted and cruel. But safe enough for Adam to leave this place? No. On the other hand this realm would never be safe enough for someone like Adam to walk around freely, so the best you could do was to take him out with you, that way you could not only keep an eye on him but also prevent the first man to do anything stupid. And despite your mansion being shielded from the society of hell, you would not have to worry about him being alone at home.
“You can’t fucking leave me here, I wanna come with you to see what your ass is up to,” he pulled you flush against his body, his head resting on your shoulder. You sighed in defeat and that was when Adam knew that he had won, “Okay, you will keep me company for tonight’s meeting,” you agreed to his request and felt Adam’s grip on you tighten in excitement, a quiet, “Fuck yeah;” was heard from the man behind you. “After the meeting we could also stay in town a little bit longer than necessary and have dinner, if you would do me the favor and accompany me through that as well, darling.” The brunette placed a quick kiss to your jaw, “Having dinner with my very fucking famous boyfriend in town for everyone to fucking stare at us like we’re hot shit? Obviously I’m fucking in, babes.” Boyfriend huh? While the term sounded really pretty coming from Adam being directed to you, you had not expected the first man to use so meanful words to describe your relationship so soon, yet you were grateful the brunette mess was feeling the same way about you. “Then shoo, darling,” you chuckled softly as you pulled away from Adam’s warm touch and directed him to your shared bedroom, “Go get dressed, my dear.”
-
Well, Adam surely did not disappoint. Because for a reason that you had yet to understand he had chosen to wear the replica of the robe he had worn when you had found him nearly dead near the hotel. It was also the same robe the former angel had worn during exterminations in general, but who were you to judge your partner about his clothing choice? At least he was dressed appropriately for the meeting and that you thanked the lord for.
You and Adam had been the first to arrive after Carmilla, the others were yet to come. The top weapons dealer of hell eyed your company suspiciously, yet she did not dare to comment on it out loud, not when she knew the force of nature that Adam was and definitely not when she knew how defensive you were of the people close to you. “Carmilla,” you raised your voice as you took a sip from the tea that your old friend had offered once you and Adam had arrived. “Something is heavy on your mind, share your thoughts with me,” your eyes did not meet hers once, they were either on the drink in front of you, or on the handsome brunette man who had taken the seat right next to you. Carmilla eyed the two of you for a bit longer, then she spoke up, “You brought us the enemy, but I doubt you will have us let our way with him and show him the consequences of his actions.” Adam’s golden eyes were on you in an instant, he was not worried that you would hand him out, not at all. The former angel trusted you, he knew you would not treat him so gently at home for months and refused to take him with you to this meeting in the first place just to sell him to Carmilla and the other Overlords in the end. “No,” your voice sounded as tense as your body felt, was she trying to insult you? Did it seem like you were going to sell them Adam’s soul and body to have their way with him? The first man’s hand reached out for yours underneath the table and you took his offer of comfort gladly. “He is here as my partner, not as someone I will hand out to you. If you want his soul you have to tear it from my lifeless hands.” Alastor entered the room by Zestial’s side and hummed quite thoughtfully at your statement, “While that offer does sound tempting, I think I will keep it on the table for later,” the radio demon stated as he took his seat just like the friend he had arrived with. Adam narrowed his eyes at the sight of the redhead, they had history after all. Yet his anger was swept away by your thumb that started to gently caress the back of his hand.
Slowly the other overlords arrived, the Vee’s were on time for once and all of them had decided to give you the honor of their presence. The moth demon was quick to show interest in the man you had brought with you and he was not mannered enough to keep it to himself like Carmilla had been. “Hey there handsome~,” he purred towards Adam from across the table, blowing a cloud of smoke directly in his face - or at least that had been the plan, but you had been quick to block that tempting pink smoke of his, sparing Adam the pain of inhaling it. You had done that once and ever since then you tried your best to avoid the moth demon himself but also the scum he called friends. “Keep your shit to yourself, Valentino,” you growled at the Vee, fed up by his behavior already. Adam was yet again impressed by the switch in your language, when you spoke to the older Overlords you sounded so calm, so collected, like you chose your words wisely before you dared to open your mouth. But when speaking to the younger Overlords - such as the Vees - you talked like them. It was definitely something the first man admired, yet he craved to know what the real you was. Given that you spoke to him like you spoke to the more respected Overlords, he guessed that the calm and collected version of you was. Though he did not fully know.
“Oh,” Valentino responded, sounding a little surprised by your statement of protection, “So he’s on your leash already?” That caused Adam’s attention to shift from you to the moth demon that had tried to hit on him, “The fuck you mean I’m on his leash? I’m on no one’s fucking leash, cunt.” You nodded, confirming his words to be the truth as you added, “That does not mean you can fucking have him though, he is not an offer on the table. Not for you and not for anyone else.”
-
The meeting had been nerve wrecking and energy draining, especially with all of the Vees being there, Valentino had made quite a lot of comments that were meant to seduce Adam, but the brunette had always been quick to reassure the moth demon that he was not interested in anything the pimp had to offer. Rosie - while not amused about your specific choice of partner - had wished you both the best though, she was the sweetest lady in all of hell, that was for sure.
“What are you craving, my dear?” you asked as Adam and you walked through the streets of hell. Adam was visibly uncomfortable despite you having his back - quite literally, your arm was wrapped around the back of his upper body, slightly above his waist. His wings were pressed close to his sides and the usually prideful look on his face that would sometimes cause you to giggle got replaced by a look of uncertainty. You were not to blame him, he had never thought he would end up in hell after all, had always thought he was too pure to be casted down to spend eternity here. And even after you had found him he had kept telling you that Sera and Lute were to come for him. But they never had done so. And while that had been a punch in the guts for the brunette at first, he had been quick to seek comfort in you and the love you offered him. “Dunno,” he mumbled as his eyes carefully roamed over the buildings, they all looked so uninviting, this was different than your mansion and for a moment he wished to be back at your place, he wished to be back home.
“Look who we have here,” a shady looking Imp giggled as he approached the both of you. His voice sounded cracky, like he had been screaming for too long, his outfit looked run down and the horns on his head that had probably been white once were dirty and therefore appeared brown. Adam backed off immediately, he did not want to make physical contact with any of those shady people down here, no matter if they were sinners, hellborn people or overlords. They all would stain his purity and divinity. You extended your arm, pushed the dirty little Imp out of the way and continued your way to the restaurant you would always visit after Overlord meetings. “Then let me show you my favorite place,” you offered the first man a reassuring smile as you guided him through hell’s crowded streets, Adam was thankful to have you by his side. It was not that he was unable to handle himself, but the amount of eyes that looked at him murderously was surely something he had never experienced before. “It won’t reach heavenly standards of course, but I think you might like what they have to offer,” the brunette loved how cheerful and unaffected your voice was by all those sinners waiting to get their hands on Adam.
In a swift motion you turned around to shove a sinner out of the way that was about to touch Adam’s wing and probably rip out one of his glorious feathers too. In a low, angry sounding voice you growled, “I would not dare to do this if I were to be you,” as you looked down at the sinner that had flinched away from your boyfriend the moment you had turned to look at him. Without another word the little one ran away and you returned your attention to Adam, “I’m sorry hell is causing you so much trouble, love, but the people here are not exactly the positive and bright minded spirits you know from up above.” The brunette pressed his wings even closer to his body, careful for them to not touch the dirty ground that was mostly covered in sinner blood. “Not your fucking fault that freaking bitch of a demon fuck-up almost fucking ended me,” he responded as he looked at you for the first time ever since you two had left the building the Overlord meeting had been at. He was not feeling comfortable down here at all, his body language was so different from the one you knew. But you understood - or at least you thought you did.
The door was opened by one of the workers there and you and Adam were greeted by a strange look that quickly turned into a welcoming smile, it had its pros and cons to be so well known, that you definitely had to admit. Yet you were guided to a free table for two. “This shithole looks so fucking wild,” Adam commented on the restaurants decor, it surely was something special, nothing you preferred at your own house, but you were glad Adam seemed to like the atmosphere in here better than on the streets. “I’m glad this place makes you feel welcome because trust me when I tell you that it won’t get better - at least not in the Pride Ring,” that made the brunette peak up in interest. “So there’s better shit in another fucking ring?” His question was quickly answered by a nod of yours, “Yes my dear, I shall take you to Ozzie’s one day, you surely would like its vibe. The sin of Lust, Asmodeus, and his Imp boyfriend Fizzarolli run it,” you explained in delight, the theater restaurant that was located in the Lust Ring was your favorite place in hell’s seven rings. “The sin of Lust runs a fucking theater restaurant?” the first man raised an eyebrow like it was the craziest thing he had ever heard, “That’s like saying Sera runs a motherfucking candy store.” You chuckled at his comparison, though you had to admit that it wasn’t too far off, it did sound crazy for someone who did not know Ozzie. “The sin of Lust will surprise you, my dear, despite his interest in lust and desire he always preaches the importance of consent.” Adam huffed as his eyes flew over the menu, “You better introduce me to that fucker soon.” Little did Adam know that you had already booked a table at Asmodeus’ lustful lounge for the both of you.
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nagihono-stan · 10 months
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asking to prove a point
REBLOG FOR LARGER SAMPLE SIZE PLEASE.
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
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HEADKANONS MK1 | "REACTING TO THE VOLUME OF THEIR BULGE APPEARING IN YOUR BELLY" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊
TW: size kink, afab anatomy, pet names, v!sex, hard smut, not reviewed.
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BI HAN, SHAO KHAN, SHANG TSUNG, KUNG LAO, KUAI LIANG, JOHNNY CAGE, BARAKA.
Fucking him on top of you was always too intense to be true, he was a big man compared to you - and he made a point of making this dynamic very clear, he loved power, how it made him feel so powerful and relentless in compared to your small body, he could easily break you and that was fucking exciting for him. You opened your legs for him like a needy slut for his cock, while he poured a series of delicious degradations in your direction, going with two fingers up your wet and needy hole, while his other thick hand came against your face, forcing you to watch his fingers aggressively work on you, saccharistically placing the blame on you for having such a tight pussy - he loved how tight you were, but he also loved seeing you blush with embarrassment.
"-Oh come on angel... Don't be shy..." He moaned, smiling roguishly, while placing his dick on top of your pussy, making a comparison to your entrance, his hard dick reached your navel easily. He made a quick movement, without any warning, making you jump and arch your sides in a loud moan that echoed through the walls, he placed his hands on your hips, running his thumbs over your skin, soon seeing the bulge that formed on your skin, he could see his own cock taking you, it was too much for him, a primitive moan, perhaps even animalistic, left his lips, as he accelerated with all his might, moaning with every movement he could see under your skin, knowing that he was filling you completely, he is totally arrogant about it, taking one of your hands and taking you to the place.
"-Feel it baby... This is the power I have over you, only I can fuck you like this, you hear? Only I can fill you like this." he moaned hoarsely, smiling as he sped up even more, he was going crazy with every movement seen outside of your womb, he loved it, he loved being so strong compared to you.
"-You're going to cum, right? After all, you love a huge cock inside your little pussy." He placed his hand on your waist again, marking with his thumb where his dick went, while he leaned in and whispered in your ear between screams of pleasure. "-I'm going to fill your fucking uterus with my semen, and breed in that beautiful pussy, right?"
LIU KANG ,RAIDEN , TOMAS VRBADA, KENSHI, ZEEFFERO, QUAN CHI, HAVIK, REIKO, SYZOTH.
Fucking him while you sit on his dick, with his body sitting on the messy bed - sex before bed, with all the passion and with the intention of killing the longing he felt for you during the day, he knew it was a: A big, strong man, his muscles overcame the clothes he wore - he loved holding you in his arms, suspending you around, while he fucked you in every corner of the house.
He would kiss you passionately, while your hands went behind the back of his head, while his eyes slowly opened, seeing his hard cock, close to your pussy, the comparison was huge, he was always afraid of breaking you, often he just he would let you rub yourself against his thigh or over his dick, without any penetration or even inserting just the tip of his shaft, but when you asked for more he would back away, even if you begged for more, he was a patient man.
But that patience ended a while ago, and he needed that. He moaned more, as he watched you slowly sit on his cock, warming him with your heat, the sound of your wetness, he grinds his teeth as he felt the paradise of your walls squeeze him, he would try to ask you if you were okay, but soon he would see the bulge in your belly, making him tense with desire and moan loudly as he threw his head back.
"-Fuck dear, look at this... Mmm- Ah I can't control myself Mmm-" he then made a quick movement with his hips, thrusting everything inside you, stretching you wide open, as he always wanted. His strong, veiny hands met your hips, squeezing the soft flesh, while his eyes focused on the length that was exposed under your belly, making him grunt and sputter, passing his fingers with each thrust of your cunt. on him, drooling the thick length inside you - he was addicted, the vision of filling you up completely, and seeing you feeling pleasure with him slamming the fat head of his dick repeatedly into your sweet spot, made the big guy cum without warning someone, filling you with cum, with hard thrusts and even bordering on pain with so much pleasure, like a thin line of desire.
"-Ah- fuck, I'm going to fill you up... C-cuming-" he screamed as he emptied his thick and viscous contents into you, the sensation was overwhelming, leaving you with even more volume in the uterus, even with him slowly leaving you.
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
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more than seven minutes — one-shot
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk
author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.
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"Where are you taking me?"
"Don't you trust us?"
From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."
It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.
They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it. 
You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.
Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.
You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"
"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"
You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.
Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.
He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"
Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."
When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"
"I'm not acting weird…"
"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."
You weren't avoiding Steve.
At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.
After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.
The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.
Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.
There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space. 
"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."
Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"
"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."
With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.
"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."
"A what?"
"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"
"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.
"What was your dream like?"
He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.
It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.
"Steve…"
"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."
Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I  was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"
"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking." 
You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."
Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"Yeah." You breathed out.
One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.
"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"
It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"
"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."
Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.
"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"
Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.
"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?" 
"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"
"Shut up."
Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.
"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."
His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.
"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.
"Consider it payback, baby."
They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"
"Yeah. Please."
Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.
Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.
A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements. 
"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."
Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.
"Louder. Let me hear you."
"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."
At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.
He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.
"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.
After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.
Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.
Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.
Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.
Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.
"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"
"Go away, Buckley! Jesus." 
Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"
"Yeah. Your point being…"
"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."
Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."
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satoruxx · 2 months
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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words
SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing
RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33
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i. the unknown
satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  
his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 
you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 
"who's the rookie?" 
satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 
it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 
he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 
"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.
satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 
suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 
the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 
suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 
"maybe she's strong?" 
"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 
ii. routine 
"can i ask you guys a question?" 
a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 
"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 
"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 
"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 
satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 
"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.
"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 
you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 
the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  
"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 
after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.
"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 
"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 
"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."
the conversation ends there. 
shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.
shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 
a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 
but you can't. 
iii. halcyon
"hey suguru?"
"hm?"
"how come you always do your hair the same way?"
suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.
"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.
"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."
"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.
"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"
he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."
you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"
he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.
"how should i style it then, hotshot?"
his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."
he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.
"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"
suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"
you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."
he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.
"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.
"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.
"i like yours."
you blink. "mine?"
"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."
something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.
"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."
"do mine like that," he says quickly.
once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"
"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.
"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.
"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."
"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.
iv. fragility
"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 
"—so that makes you her family then." 
suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 
"…yes." 
you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 
"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 
"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 
"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 
satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 
you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 
he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 
"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 
it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 
that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?
your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 
v. longing
riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 
satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.
you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 
"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  
"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 
"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 
suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 
"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 
you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 
your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 
the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 
and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 
"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 
"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."
his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 
he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 
"me too." 
he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 
"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 
you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 
he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 
"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 
he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 
"mine?" you chuckle.
"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 
"oh? and why's that?" 
suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 
you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 
"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 
"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.
"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 
"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 
suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 
"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 
vi. ice bath
shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.
the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 
"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 
you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.
you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.
suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.
now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 
shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 
where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 
you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 
"shoko?" 
it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 
"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 
vii. acid rain
the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 
"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"
you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 
"let's get out of here, guys."
your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 
satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 
you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?
"do you want to…kill them all?" 
the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 
"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.
you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 
you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.
satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 
"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 
you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 
"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 
"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 
satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 
you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 
"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 
viii. fever dreams
satoru lies next to you. 
a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 
tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 
it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 
his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.
you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 
"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 
"i know." 
ix. doubt
satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.
not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 
"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 
there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 
"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 
he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 
your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 
"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 
there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"
a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 
"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"
"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 
x. shadow
satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.
you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"
"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.
"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."
your head is spinning.
"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"
"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.
"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."
you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"
satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.
"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."
you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.
"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"
shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.
god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.
"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.
"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.
"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"
a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."
you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.
"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"
you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.
his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"
his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."
xi. hellfire
you hear suguru before you see him.
his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.
you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.
or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.
it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.
you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.
now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.
suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.
you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.
"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"
your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.
you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.
"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.
he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"
"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"
"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."
you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.
"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.
"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.
"he went back to the dorms."
"okay."
you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.
the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.
haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.
not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.
you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"
his voice sounds far away. "hm?"
"are you okay?"
he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."
"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."
you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.
"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.
but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.
haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.
"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"
his voice tickles your ears.
"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 
hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.
suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.
you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.
"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"
"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."
something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.
you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 
you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.
but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.
xii. split
he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 
you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 
but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 
that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 
suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 
"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 
"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.
but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 
"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 
"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 
you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.
you don't know what to say to him now. 
"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 
"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 
"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"
the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 
"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 
your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"
suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 
anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 
suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 
"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 
"suguru—" 
"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 
you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 
a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…
"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 
"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 
he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 
you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 
you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."
he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  
you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 
he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 
nobody has laughed in a while now. 
you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 
he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.
"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 
his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 
"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 
a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.
"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 
you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 
"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 
go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 
"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 
"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 
"better late than never, right?" 
the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 
his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 
"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 
"'m not crying." 
suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.
he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 
he doesn't. 
"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"
"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 
he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."
he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 
you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 
you accept your fate then and there. 
you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.
he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.
xiii. sanctify
satoru's at your door again. 
you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 
"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 
YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.
underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 
hotshot failing class now huh? :P
and shoko had added: 
both of you stfu you're failing too 
you had drawn a heart next to her name. 
"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"
satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 
"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 
he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.
a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 
"want help?" 
"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 
"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 
"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 
you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 
"…are all of suguru's things." 
there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 
"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 
satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 
"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 
"guess not." 
you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.
you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 
a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 
"let's get started then, hotshot." 
he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 
but it's enough for the two of you. 
"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 
"so do you." 
"i am," you admit honestly. 
"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 
"i know," you answer. you always are.
nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 
you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  
both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 
you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 
"hey." 
you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 
"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 
you frown. "what are you talking about?" 
"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 
you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 
satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 
you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 
"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 
"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."
xiv. idyll
it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.
tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.
"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.
"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."
"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."
"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."
"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"
you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."
satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"
"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.
"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.
"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."
satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."
he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.
so you don't say anything either.
the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.
when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"
you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."
"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."
"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."
"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."
you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."
satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"
you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"
your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.
he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"
your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"
satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."
he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."
he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.
"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.
his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."
"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.
then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."
everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.
you can't help but smile. "always."
you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.
the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.
he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.
xv. retribution
the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.
he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.
and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.
except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.
he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.
the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.
suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.
you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.
it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.
you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.
a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"
you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"
"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"
your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.
"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"
he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"
there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.
"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.
it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.
his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."
you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.
he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.
you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.
but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?
you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"
he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."
"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.
"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"
he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.
another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.
and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.
he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.
when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.
"you're late, satoru."
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newfallstrangeleaves · 8 months
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Yandere with a unknown identity
Breaking and entering
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M!Yandere X F!reader Warning: non-con, fingering F! Receiving. Summary: You had a terrible day and end up going to bed early when a masked man breaks in and decides to make it all better.
Part 2 aaand Another part
You had such a bad day today. Nothing seemed to go your way. All day you kept your emotions in. When you got back home all you did was throw off anything uncomfortable and then crawl into bed to just cry it out. 
While crying your heart out you don't notice the bedroom window slowly creeping open and a dark shadow climbing in. He is just about to walk further into your apartment when a sniffle stops him in his tracks. 
Perhaps it's the feeling of being watched, but something tells you to turn around. When you do you are met with a tall man dressed entirely in black. Not even a speck of skin is showing. His face is covered by a balaclava and the room is dark, only the lights from outside shine in but you can tell he is looking at you. 
In an instant he throws himself on top of you, pinning you down. You try to scream but he covers your mouth, muffling any sounds you make. Your panic is met with soft hushes which by no means calms you. He is way stronger than you. He holds both your hands down with one hand while he covers your mouth with the other. He has one leg on either side of you, straddling you, forcing you lower body in place while not putting all of his weight on you. 
You struggle against his grip but to no avail. Tears stream down your face. The mix between panic, crying and a hand covering your mouth makes you gasp for air. 
"Shhh, shhh. It's fine, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Just breathe, breathe okay?" He hushes you softly. Because of the lack of air you force yourself to calm down. Taking slow breaths through your nose. 
"I'm going to move my hand okay? Don't scream." He says firmly and when you do he chuckles, pleased by your obedience. 
"Good girl." He whispers as he starts to wipe away your tears.
All the while you look up into his only exposed feature. His eyes. Even with only the moonlight shining in through your window his blue eyes are piercing through you. 
"Don't hurt me.” Your voice is barely a whisper. 
“I'm not going to, I told you that before." He stops for a moment before he speaks again. "Why were you crying before?” 
He wipes away a few more tears that escape you as you avoid his gaze. 
"It's okay, you can tell me." When you don't answer he continues. 
"Did something happen today? I could tell you were upset when I got here." 
When you still don't answer he moves off your body and with one arm pulls you after him making you sit up beside him. His sudden motion and the fact you don't know what he possibly could want from you makes you panic again. 
"I don't have much money. I… you can have my jewelry." 
"I don't want any of that, I want to know why you're crying." He cuts you off. You take a moment to calm down before you answer him. 
"I just had a bad day, that's all." It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest. But then he nods, straightening his back.
"That's alright, it's over now. If that's any help." Then he squints his eyes and you can only guess that he is smiling under his mask. Then he looks down, catching your shirt riding up exposing skin. He takes a deep breath before he continues with a low voice. 
"Maybe I can make it a little better." Without really being able to do anything he moves you to sit in his lap with your back pressed against his chest. You let out a small gasp and squirm in his grip as you feel something hard pressing up against your ass. He grabs one of your legs to hold you in place and to spread your legs. You try to pry his hand off you but his grip on you is too firm.
He places a leather gloved hand on your clothed cunt, groping and rubbing. The friction makes your breath hitch. He moves his finger up and down your underwear and much to your dismay a sting of pleasure hits you everytime he brushes over your clit. He rests his head on your shoulder whispering in your ear. 
"You're so beautiful, I'll make all your problems go away, I promise." 
He pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger inside you while he circulates your clit with his thumb. He curves his finger looking for that perfect spot.
"Please stop…" 
"Shhhh… you will feel so good soon." 
He adds another digit inside you, that together with the gloves extra thickness he stretches you out. A whine escapes you, which prones him to work faster. You can feel yourself getting closer with each move he makes. Your breathing grows heavier and so does the knot in the lower half of your stomach. His fingers hit a certain spot inside you and you jolt as if electrocuted. A moan leaves your lips as he continues to abuse that spot.  
You grip his arm, scratching him through his shirt as your orgasm riples through you. Throwing your head back on his shoulder as you bite your lip to try and suppress any sounds, but a muffled moan slips you anyways. He works you through your high and stops when you relax leaning back on him. 
"Didn't that feel good huh?" He nudges your cheek with his nose. 
"How about we go for another one?" You shake your head but he doesn't care. His hands start up again. 
His hand lets go of your leg and worms his way under your shirt. With no bra on he goes right to squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples.
"Oh, you're so wet. I wish I could be inside you. Feel your pussy clench around my dick instead of my fingers." 
Another orgasm ripple through you. But this time he doesn't stop. 
"You're doing so good. Just a few more for me." 
The room is filled by the wet sounds from your pussy and the moans that you have stopped caring about. All your mind can focus on is his fingers. 
You couldn't keep count over how many orgasms he made you go through until he decided you finally had enough. 
You feel exhausted. Leaning back panting on his broad frame. Sore from the over stimulation. 
"How are you feeling?" He holds you so impossibly close to him, one of his arms wrapped around your waist. He is gently rubbing your cheek with his index finger. The leather feels cold against your skin. 
You look up at him through hooded eyes and for a moment you two just look at each other. Then you move your hand to pull off his hood but he grabs your wrist. 
"Not today, hun. Another time I will show you." He gently lifts you up and moves you off his lap. 
"I'll be back in a sec okay? Don't move." He tells you as he stands up. Before he leaves the room he grabs your phone. You can hear him walking around in the kitchen. 
When he gets back he hands you a glass of juice and a towel. You cover your lower half with the towel as you watch him pick out new clothes for you. You can't not notice the giant wet stain that is left on his pants. He hands you the clothes and goes to get his bag by the window and set it back down on your bed.
"Do you want me to help you shower?”
“No, I want you to leave.” You say firmly. He takes a deep breath before nodding. 
“Okay, I'll leave. Just before I go." He opens up his bag and reaches down. Fear overwhelms you like a cold shower. He must have noticed you tensing up because he says. 
“It's okay, I'm just going to give you money. Take the day off tomorrow and the day after that too. This will be plenty to not disrupt your economy. And hey, treat yourself, eat out or buy something nice. I know how hard working you are, you deserve it." He hands you the money and then heads for the front door.
But before he leaves he turns back to you once more. “And remember to lock, will you? Been too many times where I have got here and you've forgotten to lock for the night. The window too. You can never be too careful.” And with a wave he is gone, left is just a stack of money in your lap.
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alipal97 · 2 months
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I'm an Idiot
Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem!reader
Summary: Luke has a dream about about his best friend y/n that leads to him ignoring her so she doesn't find out his true feelings
Warnings: angst, Luke being an idiot, smut 18+ only please, language, it's a LONG one but it's so worth it I promise
"Shit, Luke," y/n moaned out, her soft breathes fanning against Luke's scarred cheek, "right there."
Luke thrusted himself deeper, groaning out at the sensation and burying his face in the crook of her neck. "God's, y/n, you're so fucking tight."
Luke pushed in slowly once more, burying himself to the hilt. He was going painfully, torturously slow. Luke wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless until all she could do was scream his name, but not if it meant hurting her so he held himself back from driving into her full force and taking her like he so desperately wanted to.
Y/n knew what he was doing and responded by wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper. They gasped simultaneously at the new angle.
"Don't-", he stuttered, "Don't do that." He held her hips down to prevent her from moving again, gripping it so tightly he was sure it would leave a mark and the thought sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. He panted against her sweaty collarbone as he tried to regain his composure.
"You don't like it?" She whispered in his ear seductively, raising her hips up to meet his.
Of course he liked it. He fucking loved it, but it was testing the restraint that he was already in a losing battle with. If she continued to pull him in deeper like that he was sure to snap. Luke could feel her clenching around his cock and fuck it made him want more.
When he didn't answer, y/n leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Stop holding back, Luke. I want you to fuck me."
With a sly smirk, Luke pulled out of her before-
Luke startled slightly as his eyes opened to the early morning sun that filtered through the windows of the cabin. He could hear the birds chirping outside and the slight footfall of other campers making their way to breakfast.
He sighed in frustration and rubbed a hand down his face, only to freeze when he felt a body stirring against him. He slowly lowered his hand, his brown eyes falling to Y/n's sleeping form next to him. She was fully clothed with her back to him as her shoulders rose and fell with each even breath she took.
Luke had one arm wrapped around her waist while the other was trapped beneath her head. Her hair falling over his arm and onto her pillow in a perfect halo. For the daughter of Hades, she sure looked angelic in this moment.
He realized he must have fallen asleep during one of their late-night talks, given that he had woken up in her cabin rather than his own. Luke was honestly thankful for her company. His sleep was typically plagued by never-ending nightmares, but never when he slept with her tucked into his chest.
Noticing that she was still sound asleep, Luke decided to relax and enjoy a few more moments of rest before he would inevitably have to wake her for breakfast and break them out of their comfortable bubble. He closed his eyes and pulled her body closer to his, tucking his face into her hair that smelled faintly of her jasmine and coconut shampoo.
Unconsciously, Y/n snuggled back against him, pressing her body back against his. Her round ass pushed against the bulge in his pants that he hadn't realized had been rapidly growing since he woke from his dream. Luke grunted at the contact and swore under his breath quietly. Nightmares may not be a problem when sleeping with y/n, but for the last few months other dreams had started to become a bit of an issue.
Luke had had a crush on her since the first day she walked into camp four years prior, something Clarisse and Chris never hesitated to poke fun at him about. How could he not? She was gorgeous, funny, and fiercely protective of those she loved.
The two of them had always had a flirty sort of banter that probably went beyond the bounds of friendship, but he never really made a move, of course, fearing his feelings wouldn't be reciprocated and valuing their friendship too much to jeopardize it.
Just like he was about to if she woke up and felt his hard on nestled between her perfect thighs.
It was probably a dick move to leave before she woke up, but Luke would have to come up with an excuse later because there was no way he was going to be able to conceal what the dream of her panting and writhing beneath him had caused.
Ever so carefully, Luke shifted his weight toward the edge of the bed and slowly began to pull his arm out from under her head, freezing when she stirred in her sleep. He swore quietly under his breath and waited until she stopped moving before pulling his arm away from her completely.
He tiptoed his way to the door, the old hardwood floor groaning slightly beneath his weight as he walked. Luke reached the door and turned to take one last look at her sleeping form that was now nestled against the pillow beneath her head, soft snores emitting from her pink lips. He smiled to himself and closed the door quietly, bounding through the camp on his way to take a very cold shower to relieve him of his 'little' problem.
The sound of her front door clicking into place made Y/N stir against her black silk sheets before she woke entirely, noting the now empty bed beside her. She furrowed her brows as she sat up, noticing that Luke's shoes were gone and so was he.
It confused her, to say the least. Luke had never been one to sneak away before she had woken up, usually opting to wake her with whispers that sent tingles down her spine and butterflies to her belly.
Luke had been acting strangely the last few months, but he never hesitated to crawl into bed with her when she complained of insomnia or nightmares. Having him around while she slept had eased what normally plagued her, and she knew it did the same for him. She shrugged lightly to herself, figuring that he had camp counselor duties to attend to, and she would catch up with him later. Still, disappointment settled in her chest at not being able to wake up with his body wrapped around hers.
Y/n was a camp counselor herself, but since she was the only current daughter of Hades, she was more or less in charge of only herself when she wasn't training the younger campers. She rose from bed, tidying the cabin around her before throwing on a pair of spandex shorts and her Camp Half-Blood shirt to get ready for her daily training sessions after breakfast.
She made her way down to the pavilion by herself, basking in the warmth that spread over her tanned skin where the early morning sun broke through the trees. She could hear the rumble of conversation from the other campers who were already sat for breakfast as she drew closer.
Y/n made her way through the breakfast line, her eyes scanning the area for a familiar mop of dark curls as she piled strawberries and pancakes onto her plate. She turned to make her way to her usual spot, noting that Luke hadn't yet made an appearance there, which was odd since he had obviously left before her.
Y/n took her usual seat next to Clarisse, saving the spot to her left for Luke whenever he decided to show, with Chris, Travis, and Connor sitting opposite her.
"Hey," Chris greeted her around his mouth full of pancakes.
"Hey," she replied distractedly, her eyes still scanning the pavilion.
"Who are you looking for?" Clarisse asked, noting her odd behavior and trying to follow her wandering eyes.
"Luke, of course," Travis said with a smirk.
"Who else?" Connor added with a smirk identical to his twin brother's.
Y/n's face flushed a light shade of pink as she resigned herself to pushing the food around on her plate with her fork. She knew that her crush on her best friend was painfully obvious to everyone—well, except for the one person who truly mattered. It wasn't like she really tried to hide it, always saving him a seat on her left at meals and choosing Luke as her sparring partner or simply cuddling up next to him by their nightly campfires.
She was hopelessly in love with her dark-haired best friend, but she never attempted to make a move, fearing rejection or, worse yet, jeopardizing their friendship. Still, Y/N couldn't help but blush when he would wrap his arm around her innocently and tuck her into his side or become flustered when she caught a glimpse of his well-defined abs when he would lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow during sparring sessions. Needless to say, she had it bad.
"Hey guys," Percy greeted the small group of friends as he sat to Y/n's left, leaving an empty space for Luke. Annabeth took her seat across from him. "Where's Luke?"
All eyes at the table turned toward her, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "How would I know?" She speared a strawberry on her plate with a bit more force than necessary.
"Oh, I don't know," Chris shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. "Maybe it's because he spends more time in your bed than in his own these days." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning a smack to the head from Clarisse and a glare from Y/n.
"Speaking of the lover boy," Connor says, his eyes falling to Luke as he makes his way through the breakfast line.
Y/n tries her best to act nonchalant, fighting the urge to turn and look at him. Instead, she resigns herself to pushing the strawberries around on her plate.
When Luke finally makes his way to their usual table, he pauses, noting the empty spot left for him next to Y/N. He battles with himself silently as his feet carry him closer. He wants to sit next to her more than anything, but just the thought of her leg accidentally brushing his under the table causes his dick to twitch in his cargo pants. There was no way he would be able to hide a boner with this many people around. Normally, he had a bit more self control, but thay dream had really done him in.
He had been fortunate enough not to encounter any other campers on his way to the showers this morning to relieve himself. His hand had been wrapped around his length, stroking himself in a fast rhythm as he imagined y/n lips wrapped around him, quietly moaning out her name as he came in his fist.
Luke quietly groaned to himself as he rounded the table, feeling y/n's piercing eyes on him as he took a seat between Connor and Chris. Everyone at the table froze, forks hovering midair in confusion and disbelief at the strange behavior. Luke didn't even pay them any mind, trying his hardest to avoid your gaze that had sparked with what looked like disappointment, fearing that if he started blushing he would never stop.
"Okay," Clarisse said, drawing out the word and breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "Cabin Twelve is throwing a party on Friday. Are you guys in?"
"We're always in," the Stoll twins spoke in unison. Y/n thought it was funny when they did it, but Luke always found it disturbing and creepy.
Luke was barely listening to his friends’ discussion as he pushed the food around on his plate. He was trying to avoid looking up, knowing that Y/N was across from him, trying to meet his gaze. He knew she had given up when she let out an almost inaudible sigh, and he suddenly felt guilty. He hated ignoring her, but it physically pained him not to hold her and draw her in for a kiss when she pouted her perfect pink lips at him. It was as if Aphrodite herself was trying to punish him.
"I don't know," Travis shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup. "I'll probably ask Silena to go with me. What about you?" He looked over at his half-brother, who was still staring down at his untouched food. "Luke?"
"Hmm?" He hummed, breaking out of his thoughts and looking up from his plate for the first time since he sat down.
"Are you bringing anyone to the party?" Travis asked again.
"Oh, um," Luke was at a loss for words. There was only one person he truly wanted to ask, but he knew she wouldn't see it as anything more than friendly. They had attended parties together in the past, but it seemed inappropriate to him now that he had come to the realization that he was in love with Y/N. "I don't really know. I haven't thought about it."
Connor, being Connor, decided to stir the pot a bit. He opened his mouth to say, "What about Laura from Cabin Ten? She has a pretty massive crush on you."
Luke shrugged and finally took a bite of his breakfast, not noticing the way y/n's eyes watched him anxiously. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, a bit distractedly. It would seem weird if he didn't take anyone, but he couldn't take y/n without torturing himself to the brink of insanity. He still couldn't shake the image of her beneath him or the faint sounds of her breathy moans that echoed in his mind.
Y/n had decided that she had had enough. She slammed her silverware onto her plate, swiping it up, and marched her way over to the fire pit. She threw her offerings into the flames and made her way to her first activity of the day. Tears stung her eyes, and jealousy clawed at her chest as she marched past the table where her friends all sat, looking slightly concerned at her sudden outburst.
Luke's eyes trailed after her, watching her back until she disappeared over the hill. He sighed to himself and ran a hand through his curls. He had thought that if he kept a bit of distance his body and mind would relax a little but he was more tense than ever.
Clarisse kicked him under the table causing him to wince and rub at his now sore shin. "What the hell has gotten into you?" She shouted at him.
"Ouch, what are you talking about?" Luke glared at her as he continued to rub his sore leg.
"I'm talking about y/n," Clarisse said, her brows raising as if what she was getting at was obvious. It was, but Luke didn't want to admit what he was doing was stupid.
"What about her?"
It was Chris's turn to chime in. He turned to his half brother and said, "Since when don't you sit next to her at breakfast, and since when don't you two go to bonfires together?"
Luke groaned in irritation, his face growing hot. The last thing he wanted was for them to pry and find out the real reason he was ignoring his best friend. It was embarrassing the way he was dreaming about her, and jerking off to the thought of it like a fifteen year old who just discovered women exist.
"My world doesn't revolve around y/n." He grumbled.
Percy snorted from his spot across the table. "That's bullshit."
"Language!" Luke, Annabeth, and Clarisse all chastised him at once.
Clarisse turned away from the son of Poseidon and back to Luke. "He's right, though. You two are always flirting with each other, and it's painfully obvious. Do us all a favor and put us out of our misery. This tiptoeing around each other is disgusting."
"What Clar means to say," Chris said, shooting a look at the curly-haired girl who merely shrugged, "is why are you avoiding her? We all know you like her, so why are you holding back?"
"Because he's a chicken shit." Percy chimed in with a smirk.
"PERCY!" They all yelled and the blonde rolled his eyes.
"Oh, come on! I'm thirteen, for crying out loud!" he yelled back, slamming his hands on the table. They all ignored him and went back to their conversation at hand once more.
"All we're saying," Chris said, gathering his plate of offerings and standing up, "is that you two have been riding this line between something and nothing for too long. Man up and ask her to the party." And with that, he threw his offerings into the fire and walked off toward the rock wall.
Sparring practice was a bit more tense than usual that day, and it was obvious to everyone around them. When they had all chosen their partners, Y/n had been quick to ask James from Cabin Ten before Luke could even take a step in her direction. It caused a stir among the other campers who witnessed the out-of-character behavior, leading them all to wonder what had happened between the two counselors.
Usually, she would make her way to his side, joking about trying her best not to mess up his 'pretty face', but today she wasn't really in the mood to joke and be ignored by her best friend.
Luke sat frozen for a few seconds, utterly shocked that she had chosen someone over him. He guessed he deserved it for the way he had acted at breakfast, but it still stung knowing that she was angry with him. So, instead of standing there looking like an idiot, he grabbed Percy by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from where he was attempting to flirt with Annabeth. He left her to pair up with one of her siblings as he dragged Percy to a spot where he had a clear view of Y/n.
They began to spar, and while Luke was the best swordsman the camp had seen in over three hundred years, his head wasn't in it today. Percy disarmed him repeatedly while his eyes wandered over to Y/N. She was currently grabbing a drink of water while James stood at her side, whispering something that made her throw her head back and laugh.
She pulled at the hem of her orange tee, lifting it up to wipe the sweat from her face. Luke's grip tightened on his sword when he saw James's eyes lingering over the tattoo on her right hip. He made to step forward when Percy's hand on his arm made him freeze and look back at the younger boy.
"I don't think that's a good idea. She already seems kind of irritated with you," Percy warned.
Luke scoffed, shaking his head, and walked over to where she was smiling with her hand placed gently on James's bicep. The sight made his blood boil, and he had the overwhelming urge to rip the boy's arm off.
"Hey," Luke said, directing all his attention to his best friend, who, at the moment, wouldn't even glance his way. "Can we talk?" When she continued to ignore him, he lowered his voice more and whispered, "Please?"
Y/n couldn't help herself; she lifted her gaze to his and nearly caved when she saw the pleading look in his eyes. But then she remembered how he had snuck out of her cabin that morning and proceeded to ignore her throughout breakfast. Y/n folded her arms over her chest and put on her best poker face.
"I'm a little busy right now."
"Oh, really?" Luke asked in a patronizing tone, crossing his own arms over his chest. Y/n had to try her best not to glance down at his bulging muscles. "Busy doing what, exactly?"
"Well, if you really want to know," she stepped closer to the blonde on her right, "I was just about to accept James's invitation to the party Friday night."
That was a total lie. Y/n had actually been about to turn the boy down and state that she probably just wouldn't go, but she figured if Luke could go with a date, then so could she. Maybe it would help her let go of her crush on Luke once and for all. She knew she deserved better than waiting around for the boy to come to his senses.
Luke scoffed, his face scrunching up with the action. "You're kidding me, right?"
This made Y/n angry. Luke had no right to be upset over her accepting a date to a party he didn't even want to attend with her.
"So what?" She took an angry step toward the curly-haired boy. "You can talk about asking Laura to the bonfire, but when I accept an offer from someone who's genuinely interested in me—"
Luke interrupted her. "You seriously think this guy," he gestured to James, "is seriously into you? Have you forgotten that he and his siblings sleep with people and then dump them just for entertainment?"
James stepped forward, trying to put himself between Luke and Y/n, something that irked the girl to her core. She didn't need anyone to defend her. "Hey, woah. You don't know shit about me, man, and you don't get to talk to her like that."
Luke's features darkened as he narrowed his eyes at the boy who was just a few inches shorter than him. "Back the fuck up and mind your business. She doesn't need you to be her knight in shining armor."
They were nose-to-nose now, exhibiting the typical dick-measuring contest, and Y/n had had enough. She pushed her way between the feuding boys (yes, boys), placing a hand on each of their chests. While James looked down at her with a smug grin, Luke refused to tear his gaze from the blonde, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.
Y/n tried to meet Luke's gaze, but he wasn't backing down. With a heavy sigh, she let her hand drop from his strong chest and backed away, though it physically ached to do so.
"Let's just go, James." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, with James right behind her. Subtly, he flipped Luke off behind his back.
The days leading up to Friday were awkward and tense for Luke, Y/N, and the friends who surrounded them. In the mornings, when Luke arrived for breakfast, Y/N would suddenly be in a rush to get to her lessons. At night, she would lock the windows and doors of her cabin, pretending not to hear Luke knocking and pleading with her to let him in and talk.
By the time Friday rolled around, Luke was absolutely miserable without his best friend, and he was kicking himself for being so stupid. He wouldn't have had any reason to be jealous if he had just come right out and told Y/N that he was in love with her the very day he had realized it himself.
Now, here he was, looking like an absolute idiot, all alone, leaning against a tree with a drink in his hand as he watched his best friend snuggle up next to James by the fire. She was laughing and smiling as he spoke, but never quite like she did when she was with him. Every once in a while, her eyes would catch Luke's, and it made his heart skip a beat in his chest until she would quickly avert her gaze and give her full attention to her date for the night.
"Where's your date?" A voice spoke from his right and he pulled his eyes away from Y/n to see Laura batting her eyelashes up at him.
Luke shrugged and took a long pull from his cup, the liquor burning his throat a bit on the way down. "Didn't bring one."
"That's odd since I overheard that you were going to ask me." Laura licked her pink-painted lips and smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "I was waiting for you to ask, but-"
Luke's attention was pulled away as his eyes landed on Y/n, who was walking away from the party and back toward the cabins. He didn't even give an explanation or say goodbye to the Aphrodite girl as he pushed past her to follow his best friend. He was almost certain he heard her call him an asshole but he really didn't care.
Luke followed behind Y/n all the way to the cabins, unsure if she was aware of his presence. He figured she probably did, since she had the instincts of a goddamn wildcat, but was probably still just ignoring him.
He was a few yards away when he watched her reach her cabin and go inside, and he didn't hesitate to walk up the front steps and knock. Now that everyone was at the party, he could possibly get her to talk to him without an audience.
Nerves settled in his chest as he raised his fist and rapped it against the dark wooden door, waiting on the edge of his figurative seat for her to open the door and face him. Luke listened closely to the shuffling on the other side of the door before he heard a sigh and then the click of a lock. For a moment, he thought that she had locked him out and turned with a heavy heart to make his way back to the Hermes cabin to wallow in his self-pity until her soft voice reached out to him.
"What do you want, Luke?" She sighed heavily as she stood in the doorway, the door partially blocking her chest.
By the way she was attempting to cover her chest, and the way Luke could see her bare shoulder and the strap of her bra, he guessed that she had been in the process of undressing and getting ready for bed. He was trying, and failing, not to let his eyes wander as he made his way back up to her door.
"Can we talk?" Luke asked quietly, his voice and eyes pleading with her to say yes.
She hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door for him to step through. He let his eyes wander over the expanse of the cabin that he had seen a million times before in an attempt to give her some semblance of privacy while she found something with which to cover up.
It wasn't until she cleared her throat from behind him that he turned, and his heart stopped in his chest. She stood there with her arms crossed and shoulders tense, now covered in a soft gray sweatshirt. His sweatshirt. She still wore the black jean skirt that she had been wearing at the party, and he saw her top and bra discarded on her dresser, meaning that she was completely bare underneath his sweatshirt. Luke felt his dick twitch in his pants and had to shake the thought from his mind before things got out of hand.
He took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his dark curls before he spoke. "Listen, y/n/n, I'm really sorry about being a complete dick the last few days and for ignoring you. I was just going through some stuff and I didn't want to upset you or lose you as a friend so I thought if I ignored you until I could figure out how to get over it, things would be better."
Y/n didn't say anything as she waited for him to continue.
"It turns out," he took a deep breath, "I can't get over it, and I don't think I want to."
"What are you talking about?" She took a few steps until the distance between them closed, and she cupped his face in her soft hands, forcing him to look at her. "Why would you even think you could lose me as a friend?" Her eyes darted between his, but his were focused solely on her lips.
"Because I don't want to be just friends with you," Luke whispered before he closed the distance between them, his lips grazing hers. "Tell me to stop."
Y/n shook her head and tangled her fingers in his dark curls. "I can't," she said. And then she pulled his lips down to crash against her own.
Luke reacted immediately, his hands falling to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, all teeth and tongues as they finally let themselves feel everything they had been holding back. When Luke swept his tongue along her lips, she moaned into his mouth and tugged his curls, eliciting a deep groan from Luke. Eventually, the two ran out of breath and had to pull back, their chests heaving from the lack of oxygen.
"Is this why you've been ignoring me?" she asked against his lips, wanting to taste his mouth on hers again, but not before she got her answer.
Luke smirked and shrugged. "Well, that and I've been having some pretty intense dreams."
Y/n pulled back, brows raised, and Luke's heart dropped for half a second before she smiled up at him through her long lashes. "About?"
Luke tightened his grip on her hips and dragged her closer and she gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against her hip. "Mind if I just show you?"
When she nodded, Luke didn't waist a second hoisting her up, her legs instantly snapping around his waist and his hands falling lower to cup her ass. He carried her to her bed, laying her down before kissing her with a bit more coordination than before. He slotted himself between her open thighs, rutting into her gently causing a breathy moan to fall from her perfect lips.
Y/n didn't waste any time ridding him of his shirt, throwing it down to the floor and allowed her hands and eyes to wander down the expanse of his toned chest and abdomen. It wasn't like she had never seen Luke shirtless before, having patched him up more times than she could count, but this seemed more personal like he was willing to let her see and have every part of him.
Luke's own hands wandered up the front of her sweatshirt that she had stolen from him so many months ago, travelling higher and higher until his hand came into contact with her bare breast. He took it in his hand, kneading and squeezing before rolling her soft nipple into a firm peak.
Y/n smirked and dropped her hands to pull the material over her head, growing more confident than ever as she watch Luke swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. She leaned up ever so slightly and placed a soft kiss against his throat, causing him to groan and drop his head down to lay between her breasts, his soft curls tickling her sternum.
"The feeling is mutual." She whispered into the air between them, kicking herself for not coming up with anything better to say.
Luke lifted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "'The feeling is mutual'? That's all?"
Y/n rolled her eyes and lifted her hips to push her core against the bulge straining in his pants. "Shut up and fuck me."
"Yes, ma'am." He smirked against her lips before dragging his body off the bed and standing at the edge.
Y/n looked confused before Luke quickly shed his pants, leaving him in just his black boxers, before he grabbed her under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the floor, ridding her of her skirt and panties in one fluid motion. He nearly let out a moan at the sight of her glistening cunt and used two fingers to swipe through her folds.
"Did I do this?" Luke asked with a smug grin. When she didn't answer, he slapping her ass, making her jolt and throw her head back with a moan. So she likes it rough? Noted. "I asked you a question."
"Yes." She answered breathlessly, her fingers tangling in the sheets with anticipation.
Luke didn't say another word before he brought his tongue down to her weeping cunt and licked a stripe all the way up to her clit with a flat tongue. Luke groaned at the taste before diving back in for more. She tasted so sweet and heavenly and Luke was absolutely certain the next time he had ambrosia, it would taste like her.
Y/n's moans filled the empty air as Luke devoured her like a man starved, dipping his tongue into her hole before moving higher to suck harshly on her swollen clit. Luke moved one of his hands from her thighs to push two fingers into her, noting how tightly she squeezed his fingers. He curled them upwards ever so slightly, feeling her hands fly to his hair instantly and tug harshly. He moaned around her clit, sending vibrations throughout her whole body.
"Shit," y/n moaned as her back arched off the mattress, "Luke, I'm so close."
Luke pulled away from her, fingers still working in and out of her, bringing her closer to the edge by the second. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."
Between his tongue, his fingers, and the fact he had called her baby, y/n let herself go, cumming with Luke's name tumbling from her kiss-bitten lips over and over again. Luke continued to lap at her, enjoying the sweet and tangy taste of her release on his tongue, until she was squirming and all but pushing him away from the overstimulation.
He got the message and sat back on his heels, enjoying the sight of her post-orgasm, hands still fisting the sheets as she watched him lick his fingers clean. He moaned around the digits, teasing her until she physically couldn't take it anymore.
Y/n sat up and grabbed hold of his camp necklace, pulling him to lay between her open legs once more before smashing her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue. Luke smiled into the kiss when she bit down on his bottom lip and tugged.
"I want you," she spoke against him breathlessly, "to fuck me."
Luke pulled back, placing his hands on either side of her head to support himself. "Who taught you patience?" He joked, but groaned when her hand snaked down to palm him over his boxers.
Luke got the message and decided that he was done teasing her, for now. He shed his boxers quickly and quickly aligned himself with her dripping cunt. He rubbed his tip through her folds, collecting her arousal before looking up at her, searching for any signs of hesitation.
He got his answer when y/n smiled up at him softly and pulled his forehead down to rest against hers. She angled her hips up and his tip slipped in, elicting a moan from the both of them. Luke moved slowly, pushing in deeper, inch by agonizing inch. His breath caught in his throat and his mouth hung open when he was fully seated within her.
"Are you okay?" Luke asked softly.
Y/n nodded and rolled her hips against his, letting him know it was okay to move. Luke captured her lips with his before pulling out and thrusting back into her.
"F-fuck." He groaned against her mouth, thrusting into her again. "You're so fucking tight." He trailed his lips down her jaw, leaving kisses all the way down her neck until he reached the soft spot just behind her ear. He bit down on the soft skin there.
He was going torturously slow and while she loved that he was being so sweet and gentle, there would be time for that later. Right now she just wanted him to take her and fuck her into oblivion. This had been a long time coming and she was done with the soft, hesitant actions.
"Luke." She whimpered against his ear, her breath sending shivers down his spine.
"Hmm?" He groaned, too consumed by the feeling of her heat sucking him in.
"Fuck me harder."
Luke pulled back, not sure he had heard her correctly. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. "What?"
Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and spoke again. "Fuck. Me. Harder."
Luke didn't need to be told a third time once he was sure he wasn't imagining things. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it higher before driving into her. They both groaned at the new, deeper angle, sweaty chests heaving as they grew accustomed to the overwhelming sensation.
He set a new, harsher, faster pace, grinding his hips into hers to add to her pleasure. Y/n finally got what she wanted as he pounded into her already sensitive cunt. She bit her lip to try and contain her moans and Luke wasn't having it. On the off chance this was a one time thing, he wanted to hear just how good he was making her feel.
Luke pulled her lip from between her teeth, kissing her softly before saying, "Let me hear you. I want everyone in the whole camp to know how good I make you feel, that I'm the only one who can make you feel this good."
He pulled out and angled a particularly harsh thrust into her caused her to moan without a care for anyone that happened to pass by her cabin.
"Fuck, Luke, feels s-so good."
"That's it, baby, let them know who you belong to."
Y/n clenched around him and Luke could feel himself growing closer to the edge, but he would be damned if he didn't bring her to a second orgasm before he let himself go. He leaned back just enough to reach a hand between them, using his two middle fingers to rub at her bundle of nerves.
"Shit, just like that. I'm so close."
Luke would do just about anything to hear y/n praise him like that for the rest of his life. He could die tomorrow and he would be at peace with it now that he had heard the way his name sounded tumbling from his lips and the way her body reacted to his.
"Oh gods, I'm gonna—" with a hoarse cry, y/n reached her peak, clenching around Luke as her nails scratched at his back. She had probably drawn blood, but neither of them could find it in them to care at the moment.
Luke worked her through her orgasm, picking up his own pace as he chased his own high. With a few more calculated thrusts, Luke came with a low groan, biting down on the juncture between her shoulder and neck as he spilled inside her.
With a heavy sigh, Luke rolled off of her, reaching his arms out to pull her sweat soaked body into his. Y/n nuzzled her face into his neck and tangled her legs with his, breathing out a sigh of contentment.
Neither of them said a word until Luke finally caught his breath and asked, "So the feeling is mutual, huh?"
Luke's grin only grew when she slapped him on the chest. "Shut up."
"So if the feeling is so mutual," she glared at him, and he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Then why did you go to the party with James?"
Y/n sighed. "Well, my best friend, whom I really wanted to go with, was being a total dick."
Luke looked down at her apologetically. "So why didn't you tell him then?" he whispered.
"Because I've been in love with him since we were sixteen, but I didn't want to throw away our friendship in case he didnt like me back." She whispered back, finally laying it all out in the open.
"You know what I think?"
Y/n bit her lip nervously. "What do you think?"
Luke tilted her chin up to look at him, bringing his lips closer to hers as he said, "I think I'm an absolute moron for ever making you think that I don't love you the same way."
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eamour · 2 months
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nothing exists outside of you.
when you end up not getting what you want, it’s never because of something or somebody else. no one actually thinks "oh, you weren’t good enough" or makes things happen in your reality that go against your wants. i know this is a hard pillow to swallow but it’s no one else but you doing that. like, for an example, when you get dumped by your partner, when you get denied from your dream university, when things don’t end up going your way or even the opposite, it’s never other people sabotaging you and being in your way.
things don’t exist outside of you, remember that. it’s only you in and out there.
you are your own limit.
but this is exactly where it gets exciting. the most useful and thoughtful quote i have heard so far regarding manifestation is: "it is entirely up to you to decide how much is within you. you declare who you are." this means that NO ONE can ever tell you "no". well, i'm sure they can, but you are not obligated to accept it. you don’t have to force yourself to like things you don’t like, or to settle for things you don’t want. again, you DESIRING a state is enough for it to exist. and there are infinite states and therefore realities out there! think about it this way: there is a version of you, right now, experiencing all of your desires. they have everything you have ever dreamed of. and you wanna know what’s so cool about it? you can be that person!!! infact, you already are them for all states exist within you and belong to you only! creation is fucking done, and just as neville said, your refusal to see that you already are who you wanna be is the reason why you will remain as you are right now.
others can not hinder you.
no one can define your worth. no one can determine your success. no one can make decisions for you and expect you to obey them. no one can create your life. no one can limit you. only if you think that others have power over you, then they can do whatever they want — because you let them!
only you direct your life.
i know life gets hard sometimes. genuinely hard. sometimes it’s unbearable and you feel like being suffocated and you‘ve got a shitty 3d right in your face, demanding you to deal with it, draining you the fuck out, and and and… but that doesn’t have to stop you. it won’t stop you. the outside world is also your creation. it is nothing you have to fear babes. after all, you know it’s only your conceptions of self… it’s just you. really nothing that scary!
get back on track.
now, do yourself a favour, and stop being afraid of circumstances. stop being a slave to your senses. stop giving in. stop thinking so small of yourself. stop belittling yourself. stop being so overly submissive. stop wavering. stop overthinking about every single detail that won’t go your way and remember that there is a wonderful version of you "inside" you that wants to be embodied. how wonderful is that? to be fully in control of your world? and it will only ever be up to you what you do with it!
things can change in a day. your 3d can look so… deranged? if you will? and yet, you could still get your desire the same exact day. NO ONE CAN TAKE AWAY YOUR DESIRES FROM YOU BUT YOU!!!
with love and rage, ella.
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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(Idk if ur taking requests since it says "asked closed" but I just HAD to get this thought out of my brain)
Monster!König x Quiet reader
since I'm quiet and just like to listen not talk to ppl I got this idea that reader listens to König talk about his day 🤷‍♀️ you can add more but that's just my little idea :>
(I'm srry if it's bad, this is my first request lol)
Naturally, Konig isn't the most talkative person. He is fine with letting others talk, as long as they won't forget to listen to his orders - and the monster version isn't all that different. He doesn't believe others to be worthy of his words - of his attention, even. Most of his soldiers never heard him talk outside of a few taunts here and there and some orders that get passed through his officers. He was fine with letting you be quiet at first. Humans should be afraid of him - his little human wife should be timid and shy, so he is glad that you're smart enough to close your mouth and listen to him instead of pathetically trying to argue with your mate. It plays into his ego - into his fantasies of being this cool stoic knight with his shy human wife who knows when to shut up and how precious her husband is. You're literally so freaking adorable - he can't wait to show you off in front of other monsters. His pretty little mate is tame without even the need to be tamed - so, so precious. He starts to talk first in the conversations. Knowing that you won't ruin the moment with your dumb mumbling or your beginning to let you go, he can talk about everything. His current missions and objectives, who is probably going to die on the next task and which soldier he hates most. Talks about supply lines and how fucking expensive it is to try and find more human mates for his guys - he would always kiss you after this, mumbling something about how lucky he got with a human who knows better than to speak their mind. Would often praise you for being quiet and obedient, even if he knows you're like this only because you're scared. He opens up more and more to you - whispering some soft things into your ear while he fucks you. Making it his goal to make you as loud during sex as possible - forcing moans out of your throat and making sure you're calling his name every time he makes you cum. You're so embarrassed during sex, so scared of actually allowing him to treat you like this...but there is nothing else you can do about it - you're just getting on your tummy like a good girl and hope that if you push your face into the pillows, he won't make you scream like he usually does...you're wrong, of course.
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