#I'm like questioning if my response to him was based off my true feelings

[refreshingfruitflavor]

met a guy at a party over the weekend who is probably the most good-looking person who has ever flirted with me....kinda regret turning him down when the time came i feel like maybe I should've let it play out just for the novelty. ??????

[coconutdays]

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.

this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.

🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️‍🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.

⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."

📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.

🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.

❤️‍🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."

💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.

🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.

✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.

🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.

🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."

🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.

🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"

🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?

🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.

🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."

🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.

Part 2

[byechristopher]

pleaseee a fic where chris and reader meet for the first time (she's lowkey sad or some shit like that idk) and he's all starstruck by her 😞

lucky you.

–CHRIS STURNIOLO FLUFF.

Author's note: hey y'all. I got the idea from this lovely anon (thank you for the request!🤍) and combined it with something that actually happened to me. Fate truly works in mysterious ways – so take this long, sappy story (based on true events, pft). I hope you like it! Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long, sappy fluff. Very slight angst if you squeeze, but nothing crazy. Very long, didn't proofread!

My mom used to always say – "that's life; when one door closes, another door opens". And if I still lived in the same house with mom, she'd know; I haven't seen an opened door in a long while. It is unfair but it is what it is and I had no intention of succumbing to tears in the solitude of my nightly despair.

Seated on the chilled bench, I instinctively drew my knees towards my chest in a desperate bid for warmth. The sheer elegance of my black tights, though adorning my legs, proved futile against the biting cold. Unfazed, I refrained from complaining; after all, they were my cherished favorites. Mascara was most likely smudged from my previous ugly crying, yet I ignored it, taking solace in my sweater's embrace.

Leaning my head against my knees, my fingers absentmindedly engaged with the laces of my shoes – a subconscious act of distraction. In the midst of this self-imposed solitude, a sudden exclamation pierced the quietude.

"Shit!" I heard a voice, someone angry. The mysterious guy threw his hat on the pavement and scoffed, his hair nearly as messy as mine. His gaze shifted towards me, a thorough assessment from head to toe, "care if I sit next to you?" he asked quickly. Without much ado, I responded with a nonchalant shrug. I didn't care, I had way more things to worry about.

I could feel him rummaging through his pockets, trying to find God knows what, he seemed upset, anxious, "want a cig?" I didn't see him, but I saw his extended arm in front of me. I don't think he was looking at me either.

"Sure." I murmured under my breath, taking a cigarette from him half-empty packet.

"Why does life have to be such a fucking bitch?" I chuckled in response, treating it more as a statement than a question. Offering another shrug, I watched as he scanned the area, likely in search of his lighter.

"If I had the answer to that, I'd probably murder this bitch." I chuckled, he chuckled too.

He held the lighter in front of me and only then did I turn my head to look at him – he was definitely not what I expected to see from what I've heard. While I didn't dwell on it for long, it seemed he did, as seconds passed without his lighter igniting. His intense pale blue eyes remained fixed on mine, and I briefly removed the cigarette from my mouth.

"Hello?" was my mascara that smudged that I scared the guy? He hasn't uttered a word.

"Oh.. sorry." he shook his head, as though attempting to shake off the reverie that had consumed him in the past few moments in his own world, "I just.. didn't expect you to be here?"

"Well.. I'm pretty sure we haven't met before. So how come you didn't expect me?.." I was confused.

"No, I mean.. you are very beautiful." he almost whispered but I caught that, and if I was just a little disconnected from reality, I probably would've blushed.

"Oh. Thank you." my lips turned into a thin line – I put the cigarette back into my mouth, grabbing his lighter instead.

He chuckled, "and I thought I didn't know how to take a compliment." he took his lighter back, taking a puff of his own cigarette.

"Don't you hear like a thousand compliments on a daily basis?" with my knees still pulled up to my chest, I embraced them tightly, resting my head against the comforting curve of my legs.

"Hm. And yet this was the best compliment anyone has ever given me." he placed a leg on the bench, just so that he'd be able to have his whole body face me.

I couldn't help but laugh, "yeah, I'm good at giving things. Not receiving."

He nodded, his hat still on the ground although he didn't seem to care, "understood.." he smiled and wow, he had a nice smile, almost contagious, "a fellow people pleaser, nice to meet you. I'm Chris."

I reciprocated with a nod and a quick smile. My name slipped off my lips swiftly, echoed by him, and I couldn't help but notice how much better it sounded when it rolled off his tongue.

"Will I ever see you again?" he looked me dead in the eye.

"Probably not." I pursed my lips, looking back at him.

He nodded as if he understood and dropped his burnt cigarette to the ground. Chris grabbed his hat and got up, offering another smile, "I believe in fate."

"I don't." I teased, smiling.

"You probably should." he shouted, already far away from me to speak normally.

What an interaction.

It had been quite a while since said interaction. Not that I thought about the guy a lot, but he definitely was in the back of my mind. Even when I was outside, he'd still cross my mind every now and then, like a nice, distant memory.

I chuckled as I gulped down my whiskey – the music was too loud for my own liking but it was a Saturday night and it'd be a pity if I stayed home once again; my friends begged and I actually like hanging out with them. I watched as my friends danced with each other, not too far away from me, as I rummaged through my purse to find the money so I could pay and leave.

"Fucking.. shit.." I cursed under my breath, turning my phone's flashlight on because the lights in that bar were bright as fuck, but apparently not enough to actually help me see.

"D'you need any help?" I heard a somewhat familiar voice shouting behind me. I turned around and my eyes widened when I saw him.

"I.. you!" I was beyond surprised, to say the least, because I was truly convinced I'd never see him again. Not because I didn't want it; but because I had enough on my plate already.

"Shit.." he whispered, and if I wasn't already looking at his lips, I wouldn't be able to know what he said, "..see, I told you fate works in mysterious ways."

"This was just a coincidence." I convince myself.

Was it, though?

"This was no coincidence and you know it.." he grinned and I let my eyes travel down his body for a few seconds – he looked best in black, ".. I need to see you again.." he muttered.

"Well, it seems you will indeed see me again." I smiled.

"Does that mean you'll give me your phone number?" he grinned and I saw his eyes do the same thing mine did to him; check me out.

I hummed, "..hmm.. no. We'll see if fate actually works." I smiled.

"You can't be serious.." he tilted his head, looking at me in disbelief, "I found you again, how can I leave when I don't know if I'll ever see you again?"

"You said you believed in fate."

I found him undeniably attractive and intriguing. However, at that moment, I realized I wasn't emotionally equipped to entertain the idea of liking someone or embarking on dates. The weight of my personal struggles loomed large, and I couldn't shake the fear that if he discovered the extent of my problems, he'd likely reject me. Hence, I concluded it was better to distance myself now rather than risk inevitable disappointment later on.

It's not like I'd see him again.

Truly, it's been more than a month since I last saw him; I did think about him way more often than usual but he still remained a nice, distant memory. A memory that was in the past and would never be in the future.

"Yo, we're leaving already? It's 2AM." my friend whined, although we were already walking down the stairs, toward the exit, with our jackets on and bags in our hands.

"No, love, we're just taking our fucking bags for a little walk." another friend replied, rolling her eyes and I couldn't help but laugh at their bickering.

Immediately after departing from the bar, he made his way out of the restaurant located directly beneath it. You have to be fucking kidding me.

"You.." he whispered, his eyes widened.

My mouth hung open, my eyes as wide as his; I really couldn't believe it this time. This couldn't be a coincidence, right?

"What.. are you doing here?" there was nothing else that could leave my mouth at that time.

"I work here.. now, you can't tell me this is a coincidence." he walked closer to me, although still keeping a distance to be respectful.

It definitely wasn't but I was still in the same mood I was back then.

"I can't tell just yet." I teased him; deep down I wished I could give him way more. But I knew I couldn't.

"Don't.. tell me.. are you not gonna give me your phone number? Again?" he chuckled in disbelief once again. I nodded.

"He better be a murderer, bitch; that's the only valid reason for you not giving him your phone number yet." shit, I completely forgot that my friends were literally behind me, staring at us; they knew nothing about this.

"Stop." I whispered to my friend and I don't think she heard me but she definitely saw the expression on my face.

"Please?" he said and I almost gave in when I saw those eyes.

I have always been self-destructive but this wasn't it, this time. It was realistic, right? I really couldn't do this; I knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with my lifestyle so I was just doing me a favor by saving myself from possible heartbreak. Right?

"I promise you now; if we meet again, I'm opening up to you. Fully. My phone number, my likes, my diskikes." I gave him a teasing smile, which he seemed happy to receive.

"Pinky promise. Now. I trust fate but not you." he chuckled and so did I.

"But you trust my pinky?" I laughed but he seemed serious, despite his playful stare. I sighed, still smiling, wrapping my pinky around his, "..promise."

This would probably never happen. It's fine.

This time, I really thought about him; dreamed about him even. That was very unlike me but it happened either way. I seemed to be doing lots of things that were unlike me lately – like going to this bar again. I wasn't going to see him but I was hoping to.

The whiskey was cold against my lips, my black dress hugging my hips as I sat down on the couch.

"Third time's the charm."

No.

I turned my head and saw Chris speaking to the friend group that were sitting next to ours; I saw them getting up and leaving, Chris replacing them.

"Oh God.. what did you tell them?" my grin was wider than usual, I really wanted to see him after all.

"That.. I needed to sit next to you. And that it was a matter of life and death." he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink.

"You're crazy."

"For you." he said, searching for something.

Before realising, I saw his phone in front of me, signaling me to dial my phone number. And of course, I did.

"So. Start. Tell me everything."

"Do you have free time?" I tilted my head, still looking at him.

"For you? Always." he chuckled.

I cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he wanted to kiss me as well. And as soon as I felt him leaning towards me, I placed the softest kiss on his own soft lips.

"Take me home?"

[nickfowlerrr]

the truth is this

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (friends to lovers)

warnings: fluff, kissing, very slightly edging on heavy petting, mention of an erection, no smut but still 18+ only.

words: 2.9k

notes: loosely based on these prompts: platonic forehead kisses starting to give u the feels. LIKE ITS SOMETHING MAGICAL. and "is that really all 'A' is to you?" thank you so much to @anthony-sharma for the request! thank you in advance for reading and as always, feedback and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated!

"So you're telling me you didn't notice the way she was looking at you just now?" Sam asked skeptically.

"I'm telling you I have no idea what you're talking about," Bucky rebuffed, his brows furrowing in agitation.

"Well I do know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you and her finally pulling your heads out of your asses and realizing you like each other."

"No shit we like each other, Sam. She's one of my best friends."

"Is that really all she is to you?" he questioned pointedly.

Bucky stopped in his retreat as he took in Sam's words. He instantly knew his answer, but still told himself had to think about it. Because although his thoughts were flowing with all of the things you were to him, all things that went way beyond the scope of just friendship, he was still too scared to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else.

Sam watched as Bucky swallowed hard, his jaw tightening and brows furrowed even more. It looked as if he was blinking away his thoughts when he finally looked back at Sam. An annoyed look taking over his features once again. He didn't say anything, just grumbled in response before he continued out of the room.

For nearly three hours after the little confrontation he had with Sam, Bucky raged with himself in the privacy of his own room. His head was swirling and he could barely keep track of what part of him was winning the argument until a knock came on his door.

Not just any knock, your knock. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was expecting you, he had just lost track of time with the internal struggle he had been trying to sort out.

Something changed, though, when he heard you. All thoughts of not acknowledging his feelings, in part to not wreck what he already had with you, went right out the window.. kinda.

He could accept the true depth of his feelings for you, but he'd be damned if he spoke them aloud until he knew that there'd be no shot at hurting your friendship if you didn't feel the same.

Sam's words came back to him as he considered that you didn't. The way she looked at you...

How had you looked at him? Were all the signs there and he was just blind to them? Well, he'd be sure to pay close attention tonight. See if he could see what Sam saw.

He got to the door and opened it for you, greeting you with a smile as you walked into his room and instantly wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. When you pulled back ever so slightly, peering up at him with sparkling eyes, Bucky swore he felt himself get weak in the knees.

Your smile was the most beautiful thing to him. He'd do anything to get one out of you, though he really didn't have to try all that hard. Your usually stoic demeanor, or resting bitch face as Kate had called it, was rarely ever broken; but as the rest of the team noticed long ago, Bucky seemed to have a knack for breaking it quite easily.

It was like you just couldn't help your smile when he was around. You'd always get more talkative and seemed a lot more approachable than when you were alone. It wasn't like you were a mean person, far from it, you just had a bit of an intimidating presence most of the time. You were a quiet person and weren't typically the most open. It wasn't something you put on, it was just your natural disposition. One of the reasons you and Bucky had gotten so close so quickly was because he was one of the only people to not have been put off by your introversion; he wasn't hesitant to talk to you, in fact, the moment he had seen you, he just had this feeling that you and him would get along swell. And he was right.

He'd gone up to you and introduced himself, and you gave him your name with a small smile in return. You and Bucky had a lot in common and though it took you a little while, you soon found yourself more comfortable around Bucky than you had been with anyone else...ever.

You guys could talk for ages and never bore, or you could sit in each other's silence comfortably for hours on end, not needing anything other than each other's company.

Neither of you realized how close you had gotten or how you appeared inseparable until it started getting pointed out by everyone else.

Repeatedly.

Over and over again.

Whether it was playful jokes at your mutual expense during meetings, or pestering whispers in your ears by your friends trying to bring your attentions to what everyone else could already see, to what everyone had seen from the very start of your and Bucky's friendship: That it was so definitely more than just friendship.

He wasn't sure what it was about Sam's comments this time that finally had him taking it seriously. Maybe it was because he felt it too. And truthfully, he always had, but maybe he just couldn't keep pushing the thoughts away. Maybe... maybe it was because he knew deep down, the love he felt for you was way more than just platonic. Maybe he finally realized that he was well and truly in love with you, and maybe he had a bit of hope burning bright that you felt the same way.

Bucky collects himself as he gazes into your eyes, feeling like if he stares too long he'll lose himself to you completely. But he really doesn't think he'd mind one bit. You pretty much have him already.

"So," you breathe as you begrudgingly pull away from his warmth, "did you decide? Movie or tv show?" you ask as you step past him further into his room.

He shuts his door before turning and following you to the kitchenette where you easily find the stash of candy Bucky keeps for your "movie" nights.

"Uhhh, you pick," he says as you pass him once again, heading to the couch and throwing your stockpile of sweets on the coffee table before you as you get comfortable.

"Okay," you agree, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the titles to find something at least halfway decent to put on.

Your eyes flick over to Bucky and you realize he's still wearing the clothes he had on earlier while you're in your pajamas, like you always are on movie night.

"Why are your clothes still on?" you ask as you peer up at him from your spot on the couch.

Bucky's breath catches in his throat as his heart nearly stops beating entirely, heat rising to his cheeks. In the same moment your eyes widen as you hear yourself and your breath stutters for just a second. Why did you say it like that? you chide yourself. Wishful thinking, some other part of your brain snickers. You push the thought away. Inappropriate.

"Huh?" Bucky asks, though he heard you full well.

"I mean, you're not in your pajamas," you clarify.

"Right, yeah, I uh, I was a bit distracted before you got here," he admits as he absentmindedly rubs the back of his neck. "I'm gonna change, you put something on. I'll be right back."

Bucky changes his clothes quickly and returns to you just as you find something to put on.

You watch him enter the room and laugh as you note that you're kinda matching now. You're both in gray sweats and as you wear a black long sleeve v-neck, Bucky has on a short sleeve v-neck in the same color.

Bucky notices as you do, "I swear this wasn't on purpose," he chuckles as he settles down next to you.

You titter as you start the movie and adjust in your seat to get more comfortable. And by more comfortable, you really just meaning scooting over to be closer to Bucky.

Bucky watches you as you move to be closer to him, smiling to himself as he realizes you're trying to be cool about it, trying to not make it too obvious. It's cute, but he really doesn't mind. In fact, the closer you are the happier he is. Your thigh brushes his as you keep a bit of space between your upper body and his chest.

Bucky fights off the urge to grab your legs and pull them into his lap but he can't fight the urge he has to pull you in closer.

His arm comes around your right side as he pulls you into him. You look up at him in a bit of surprise, but he doesn't return your gaze, he keeps his eyes set on the screen before him.

You blink in wonder before you look back at the screen too. You bite your lip to keep from smiling at his unexpected action and settle into his hold, scootching closer as you recline against him and let his hand rest on the curve of your waist meeting your hip.

You feel like you’d been dropping hint after hint, purposefully, these past two weeks after a long night of talking with Sam and Nat when you were finally able to put a name to your feelings; the realization you had entirely fallen for your best friend was maybe a bit pulled out of you by them but it was true nonetheless.

You’d stopped holding yourself back the way you normally did when it came to touches and hugs lately, hoping maybe Bucky would get the hint and you wouldn’t have to say it outright.. at least not first.

Admittedly, you could feel the tiniest bit of awkwardness - or maybe tension was the better word, between you and him at the moment. Not entirely unpleasant, but still it was there. At least it had been for a minute. But soon as Bucky settled his hand on your hip, that all faded as soon as it appeared. It was completely comfortable, it felt right, being this close to him. Though, truthfully, it always felt right when Bucky around.

As you fought your smile and Bucky’s hand gently squeezed your hip unconsciously, your heart warmed. Maybe he was finally picking up on what you were trying to do and hopefully the reason why.

Sam and Nat had been sure to let you know it was obvious that he felt the same for you, but still you were nervous to come right out with it.

Slow and steady, you remind yourself. No need to rush things anyway. You’d rather him come to the same realization you had on his own time, not yours.

But god, you hoped he really felt the same.

Bucky takes a peek down at you once he feels your eyes are off of him. He smiles to himself at how perfect this is. How comfortable you both are with the more intimate touches, despite neither of you bringing it up. It just feels natural.

So natural, he isn't really thinking much when he leans down and places a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he catches himself doing it, he zeros in on your reaction to it. It's not like he hadn't done it before, but any time he had it was usually in parting, as customary for you guys as a hug.

This was clearly more intimate. A show of affection he wanted to give you, no other reason than that.

He admires the soft fluttering of your lashes and the way you lean further into him, letting your head rest on his chest.

For half a second, he sees you worry you've made a mistake as he pulls his arm from around you but when he gently takes hold of your chin and turns you to face him, time seems to stand still as you gaze at one another.

You wait with bated breath as you search his bright eyes that are gleaming down at you. He can hear the change in the rhythm of your heartbeat and as he lets his eyes flit to your lips, he swears he hears the sharp intake of air you breathe as your eyes fall to his own lips before returning to his stare.

The next thing he knows, Bucky is holding your gorgeous face in his hands before he leans in closer and takes your lips in his. It's slow and gentle as he takes his time savoring your first kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers your hands on his as you return the kiss, and it quickly turns a bit more fervent. Like you've both been waiting forever for this exact moment to happen.

You pull your legs up onto the couch as you turn and move closer to Bucky. You're not thinking as you straddle his lap, the kiss only growing deeper and more intent with each second that passes.

Your hands leave Bucky's as you move them to stabilize yourself without full on sitting in his lap, one hand behind his neck and the other on the couch behind him. Bucky's own hands find their place on your hips before he pulls you down, forcing you down on his lap.

You moan into his mouth as he grabs a handful of your ass and you feel him growing slightly beneath you.

You have to break the kiss to breathe, both of you panting heavily as you press your forehead to his, nose to nose as you breathe one another in. You can't help the smile that breaks out on your face as you laugh breathily, gripping his neck as you shake your head in disbelief.

You place a soft kiss to his lips once more as he holds you to him.

"Sorry," Bucky begins, though he looks to be the furthest thing from it as he smiles that charming smile of his. "I just.. I think I've wanted to do that for a while now. It just felt right."

"You don't have to apologize," you smile softly in turn as you play with the stray hairs curled at the nape of his neck. "I think I've wanted you to do that for a while now. And it did," you breathe with a nod, "it definitely felt right."

"I wanna do more of this," he murmurs against your lips after he places another kiss to yours.

"Me too," you agree with a peck of your own. "I think I wanna make out with you," you muse.

One side of his mouth slants up in a smirk as his hands run up your sides, "I think I want you to make out with me, too," he says, amused before going in for another kiss. You both smile into it and you swear your heart is near bursting as your tummy flutters in your happiness.

"There's something I need to tell you first," he says seriously as he parts just slightly from you.

His hands rubbing up and down your back keep you from worrying as he effortlessly soothes you.

He maintains eye contact as you wait for him to continue.

"I think, - no, I know," he corrects himself. "I love you," he breathes your name as part of his confession.

You move your hand from the couch and gently hold his stubbly cheek instead, thumb rubbing over the skin of his cheek softly.

You smile again, holding his eye as you lean into him before you kiss him slow and deep, trying to get all of the things you're feeling across to him, but most namely, the main one. The love.

You part from him gently as he follows you, mindlessly chasing your lips before catching himself.

He blinks up at you as you perch over him slightly.

"I love you, too, Buck," you nearly whisper as you caress his cheek. "This doesn't change anything, ya know," you add.

He furrows his brow in slight confusion at your words.

You laugh lightly at his expression before continuing, "You're still my best friend. Nothing's gonna change that."

"Wouldn't expect it to," he smiles.

It's quiet between you for a moment before you speak again.

"Promise," you urge softly.

"Promise?"

"Promise nothing's gonna change that," you say as you look down at his chest, moving your idle hand to play with the chain you find there.

"I promise, hey" he says sincerely as he puts two fingers under your chin and has you meet his eye once more, "I promise."

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't," he reassures you before suddenly turning you both and flipping you on your back as he leans over you. You gaze up at him a little breathless as you titter.

"Okay," you whisper your trust, your arms reaching up to wrap around his thick neck, pulling him down closer to you.

"Okay," he echos before brushing his lips against yours once more.

The movie is long forgotten as you and Bucky spend the rest of the night completely wrapped up in one another. Talking, touching, just being with each other. The way you were always meant to. It was comfortable, easy. And you couldn't ask for more as you felt entirely whole and at peace in his strong arms promising to never let you go.

[hijackalx]

I need a breeding fic with Gortash. like him putting you in a mating press and just saying nasty shit like "give me a baby boy" or "your ganna have so many of my fucking babies" holy shit I'm ganna faint he's so mmfg

I WANTED TO WRITE THIS FOR U BUT IT TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY 😭😭💗 also i hope u like spit cuz i saw the opportunity and took it SORRYYYY 😹😹

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, breeding kink, spit, mating press position, some degradation and praise, dom!gortash, you’re basically his baby-making machine, he refers to reader as ‘woman’ and ‘girl’

Gortash doesn't do anything without planning first. He's always a step ahead; he knows what the future holds because he decides it.

And sometimes you wonder where you belong in his grand scheme. What does he have in store for you? All of his meddling behind the scenes— he’s a puppet master, playing your unsuspecting figure by the strings of his jeweled fingers.

It would be sensible to ask, but like a true visionary, he isn’t keen on being questioned. He'll blow you off as sweetly as he can, cradling your face and assuring you that you needn’t worry about such things. Despite his facade, you can tell it bothers him; you can see the irritation behind his gaze.

You'll admit, it can be a little intimidating being with someone like him, simply because you never know just how much of your relationship he's manipulated and plotted into fruition. You're stumbling around in the dark, clinging to his wrist for stability while forgetting that he blindfolded you in the first place.

When the next stepping stone of his intricate plan is revealed, you feel it's all too obvious. You realize the crucial part you play, and how integral it was that he didn't scare you off. No doubt you were plucked from a plethora of suitors, carefully considered for your purpose. You think you should feel flattered.

You lay on the silk sheets of his bed, spread open and waiting. Your bare skin is soft and scented, a flame spreading over the surface as you watch him approach. He crawls over top of you, the mattress giving with each movement. You swallow at his looming presence, how he locks you between his strong arms.

Thumb coming up to tease your bottom lip, he leaves a lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth.

"I'm going to make you the most valuable woman in Faerûn." He smiles before rocking back on his knees. Another kiss is left on your ankle as he props your legs against his broad shoulders. "Isn't that right?"

His features are gentle but his eyes are dark— intense. You can tell this is something he's been waiting for, something he's been heavily anticipating. You wonder how you were never able to pick up on his faltering restraint before; he looks like he's wound as tightly as he can be.

His tip plays at your entrance, smearing precum against your heat. You throb, aching for him, but you can tell by his smirk and the slight tilt to his head that he's waiting for a response.

You nod readily. With that, he angles and inserts himself into you. Gasping, your fingers bunch up the fabric beneath you as he stretches you out inch by inch. "Gods..." you mutter at the feeling of his cock slipping past your walls.

You stare at his face while he watches how your pussy strains around him, admiring how his thick, black hair hangs from his forehead, how the corners of his sloped nose crinkle slightly; the concentrated furrow to his brow, and the small parting to his lips. You did get lucky, didn't you?

Out of all the men who'd want you to carry their child, you were picked by him; a powerful man, body and mind, who is certain to pass on his traits through you.

You struggle to take him in further, the width near his base stretching your opening uncomfortably. Without hesitation, he cups his hands under your knees and pushes them to your chest, resting his weight onto you. He manipulates your figure on instinct— as if it's his, as if he owns you.

Your body is forcibly spread deeper, allowing him to sink into you the rest of the way. The new position almost takes the breath out of you, eliciting a surprised whimper from your lips.

He sighs contently as he fills you fully, the warmth of your needy pussy engulfing his cock. He finally starts to move his hips, rocking you on the mattress as your wet cunt squelches around him.

You gaze up at him through your knees, watching his lip curl at how tightly you grip him. "Fuck," he hisses. "You're perfect. Fucking perfect," he almost seems to be muttering to himself, his eyes unable to break away from where you two meet between your thighs.

He picks up the pace, his heavy balls hitting you with every thrust. You leave behind bits of your essence in his hair, the slick coating his ebony strands.

His hand releases one of your legs to snatch you by your jaw. The aggression catches you off guard, and for a moment you wonder if you've upset him. Under lowered brows, he grins.

"You're going to be my personal little broodmare," he laughs breathily before interrupting himself with a grunt. "And you'll give me as many baby boys as I want— won't you, sweet girl?"

His fingertips leave indents in your skin, and he appears too distracted by pleasure to know how rough he's being. Still, you don't mind— men with gentle hands don't sit on thrones. "M-mhm," you do your best to respond under his hold.

He slips his thumb between your lips, pressing down on your tongue. He coerces your mouth open until it's fully extended, staring down at you.

"Yeah? You like the way that sounds?"

His nail digs deeper into your tongue with every second you take to answer, his expression bordering on wicked. Unable to speak, you nod vigorously.

The corner of his mouth pulls upward, his brows lifting briefly. "I thought you might," he says before leaning over you, encasing your body in his shadow. Without warning, a quick wad of spit comes flying out onto your tongue. "Whore."

The warm substance lands and spreads over your tastebuds. Only after he admires how it looks in your mouth does he release you. He stares down at you expectantly, so you hold his gaze and swallow.

As he watches your throat bob, you feel his cock twitch inside you, a low groan vibrating in his chest.

Your body writhes with want beneath him, with need. You feel the way your cunt repeatedly tightens around him, trying to draw out his orgasm.

He can feel it too, and you know he won't last much longer. Soon he'll be filling you full of his cum— again, and again, and again— ensuring that, without a doubt, you'll be pregnant. You'll carry his heirs, securing his rulership with his bloodline.

You never saw yourself as mere breeding stock before. And you most certainly never saw yourself enjoying the thought of it. It sends a surge of heat through your body, a tremble through your limbs. You yearn to be of use to him— to his success.

"P-please," you stutter, gripping his bicep tightly. "Come inside of me. I need you to come, please—" Your words come out quickly and almost incoherent, stumbling over your own burning desire. You need to feel his thick, white seed lacing your walls.

He almost coos at how ready you are for him. "Fuck, I love hearing you talk like that."

His hand slips down the back of your thigh so that his thumb can toy with your clit. His touch isn't the softest, and it makes your sensitive body jolt with every rub. Still, the timing of it has you questioning if he's rewarding you for your begging. You wouldn't put it past him to condition you that way, so that your cunt's always desperate to be filled.

He places his hands on either side of your head, hooking your legs over his elbows. His face is now inches from yours, and you can see the lustful haze over his stare. It's dark, almost wolfish, but it only excites you.

You're so ready for him to finish, just so he can do this all over again.

You wrap your arms over his muscular shoulders, holding onto him while he fucks you. Your body is at his mercy in your vulnerable position, completely pliant to his every whim. You almost shiver at the thought— not from unease, but arousal. Your eyes flutter shut.

The bed creaks with his tempo, mirroring the needy movement of his hips. His breathing is uneven and wavering by your ear, accompanied by the occasional grunt or moan. The sounds of his pleasure send a wave of excitement through you, and you can tell by the rapid snaps of his pelvis that he's close.

Your voice evolves into whimpers as you feel his orgasm approaching, anticipating being filled with a steady stream of cum. With a hiss through gritted teeth, he slams into you hard, pumping white ropes into your cunt. You rhythmically tighten around him, milking him for every last drop.

The feeling of him filling you up makes your limbs buzz with exhilaration, and the knot in your core finally snaps. You tear and claw at his back while he ungracefully rides out his own orgasm, pushing his seed into you further and further.

After his final sloppy thrusts, his body stills. He rests above you, the arms supporting him tense and slightly weary. His breaths fan your cheek, warm and ragged, indicative of his high. You would almost think he was spent, if it weren’t for the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out of you.

You focus on the way his cum settles inside you, threatening to leak. It’s so much— you find it hard to imagine fitting more. Still, he smiles down at you with an endearing obstinance that says he’ll find a way.

You realize you’re in for a long night.

[dxtreza]

⋆｡°✩ nxx-ray; artem, marius, vyn, luke (tot)

⋆ summary: what've they got going on down there? ⋆ xtra: afab mc, nsfw under the cut! first upload, so excited. reqs open in ask box; fandoms are in bio ⋆ wc: 1.7k (includes drabble under artem's hc)

i. artem wing

tbh i think he'd be pretty insecure because mc his canonically his first true experience with romance, concerned about his size even though he knows it's irrational; from hearing what marius gossips about artem probably thinks he's below average. he'll learn through your reassurance that this is not the case. he's literally the goldilocks zone. he's not insanely big, but still above average. i'd say about 5.6 inches and tilts slightly upward (6.0 measuring with the curve), ranges from about 5 to 5.5 inch girth (2.5 inch diameter). tip has a complete ridge, his skin is of a slightly darker shade than the rest of his body. he's pretty too, smooth moisturized skin with a thick vein on the bottom. really really sensitive head and balls- won't admit it but he loves it when you smooth your palm on them. it's reactive, too- his cock jumps and twitches at the slightest bit of arousal. as for hygeine: kempt, but not obsessively so. i don't think he'd have that much body hair, but he likes to keep a bit of a happy trail and a small tuft of hair at the base of his cock.

"artem... what's got you so serious?" you ask quietly, paying attention to the way that his sighs have stopped. his lips have pulled themselves in a tight line, brows furrowed as he nearly scowls off into the distance. at your words he clears his throat, rubbing the small of your back with his thumbs and shaking his head slightly. he seems to have lost his enthusiasm now that you guided him out of the pitch darkness of his study and into the lamplight of his room, awkwardly sliding under the covers. his response comes slowly as he thinks.

"it's fine, just nervous." he says curtly, reaching for the lamp to turn it off. you swat his hand away, grabbing it and making a move with your free hand to cup the bulge in his black briefs. he shudders when he feels your breath on his neck, free hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer as you whisper. "you're absolutely sure? nothing to do with the fact that i can see you now?"

he gulps at this, turning his head away and nodding once. "i... it's just different than your hand in the car, or under the desk in my study. in the regard that i can see that you see me, i mean." there's a shaky undertone to his voice, and the end of his sentence lilts as if there were a question on his tongue. "i'm not sure who you've had before, but i might not be able to compare in some respects."

it's confusing at first- he's big, why would he be thinking this sort of thing? you've held him in both your mouth and hand before, felt the weight of him and the way he can reach the back of your throat. he's not joking by the looks of it, a blush high on his cheeks with his admittance. "can you let me disprove that, baby?" you ask, and he's already reaching for lube from the bedside table. he hesitates for a condom, but remembers you're both clean. artem warms the lube on his hand before rubbing it along your entrance, seething to himself when you pull his cock free from his boxers.

you're already prepped from when he had you on his thigh in the study, but looking at him in the light, you would need to be stretched a bit. he's shaking now as you assess him, mouth pulled taught at the corners and gaze wavering. artem eases a bit when you guide his middle and ring finger to push into you, though he seems puzzled. you sigh when he curls his hand, leaning into his neck to answer his confused gaze. "you're not gonna fit unless we do this."

bit by bit, he's relaxing, and you tap his wrist for him to pull his fingers out of you. he blushes when he brings them up to his mouth, cautiously tasting you and looking towards your eyes for approval. you meet him with a kiss, giving him a few quick pumps before easing his head in. he moans into your mouth at this, eyelashes fluttering as his hands come to rest against your hips.

the more you take him, the more noises spill from him. its intoxicating, breaking him bit by bit as his nails dig into the soft flesh of your sides and trace circles against your spine. you grab his chin, directing his face to look down where you two join. you're nearly seated fully against him, with still half an inch to take. his hips go slightly rigid when you whimper, and then it clicks in his brain that you need help with the rest. any doubt he had quickly falls away when you whine against his cheek, grasping at the sheets under him as he slowly shifts his hips up.

artem can't help but to cry out pathetically when he's fully inside, sheathed snugly just in front of your cervix. the noise spills from his plush lips, breaking at the end when you squeeze slightly. "feel how tight that is baby? you're a perfect fit..." you coo to him, interlacing one of your hands with his and brushing the hair out of his face as you sit up. he shifts with you, sliding against the headboard so he could still press your chest to his while you rode him.

"not gonna... last." he bites out the moment you start to move, enveloping your mouth in a heated kiss. it's unlike the chaste ones you usually receive, this time fueled by some deep desire artem had never previously expressed. he meets your hips with a thrust, causing you to choke on your air and whine into his skin. he's stuttering now, unable to make any coherent phrases other than please and oh my god. it's cute in a way, until he's got you right there with him and you're unable to control the way your head buzzes and your eyelids twitch when he's stimulating you so desperately.

"artem-!" it comes out in a shriek, and in your last moments of coherence you shove your tongue into his mouth and bear down with a tight squeeze around his cock. he groans as his hips stall and buck up one final time, trying to thrust through his orgasm with weak sighs and whimpers. it's not long before he's detaching from you, checking your body for bruises and whining when he has to pull you off of him. it seems he had a lot to give; his cum drips down the inside of your thigh and he grimaces at the sight, feeling guilty for the mess.

you heave, rubbing your head as you come down from the high he gave you so easily. "i've never... you know, that fast." you mumble, and he's already scooping you up to carry you to the bathroom with a worried expression. He looks down when you cup his cheek in your hand, lips parted slightly. "seriously, you're just right, that was the best i've ever had."

it's nearly uncomfortable to say, but worth it when his face turns beet red and he sputters for what to say, sitting you down on the counter and wrapping his arms around you as he breathes a wish to you, one that you're more than happy to grant. "please tell me you'll be the only i ever have."

ii. marius von hagen

knows he's got a good dick. constantly showing you his hands and making it a point that his ring finger is longer than his pointer finger; weird mentality about it, the aforementioned reason artem thinks anything below 6.5 inches is below average- marius seems to think so. almost too big, so much so that it's unrealistic. he's 7.5 inches long and doesn't curve, and a solid 6 inch girth (3 inch diameter). his tip has more of a shallow ridge, and his skin is a few shades darker than the rest of his body. not particularly sensitive unless you press down on his frenulum or very lightly drag your nail where his cock meets his v-line. he's not very veiny, has two prominent ones that branch off. i think marius would also be fairly hygienic, but he has more body hair than artem. he keeps a happy trail as well, and grooms but doesn't really shave that much except to maintain a uniform shape/direction of the hair. he knows it can be a turn off for some people, so just ask and he'll wax everything off.

iii. vyn richter

he's not too privy to what marius loves to spout about himself. doesn't really care for comparison that much; why should he when you're the only one who will see? he can comfortably make you feel good- he doesn't have to split you open to do it. if anything, he's elegant. definitely the most aesthetically pleasing out of all the boys lol. I'd say about 5.4 inches, with a 4.5 inch girth (2.2 inch diameter). extremely veiny, also the most sensitive because of it. they're not very pronounced, just slightly raised off the skin. as for the color, it's the same as his body, with a dusty pink tip; full ridge. i also think he's uncut. also very hygienic. always smells of balm and herbal oil, and routinely shaves clean. he's not too fond of any body hair really, and likely won't grow it out if you ask him. he doesn't care if you have any, though.

iv. luke pearce

another one that doesn't care too much about marius' words, mainly because he thinks that he's joking. slightly below average, but knows how to use it. he's not small by any means, still sizing in at around 4.6 inches. luke has above average girth, though, peaking just below his tip at 5.4 inches. he's curved to the left a little bit, but not enough to notice. a few small veins, but he doesn't have much reaction to you touching them- he's most sensitive when you're giving attention to his slit; just a few seconds is enough to make him practically scream. slightly darker than his body, with a pink tip. hygienic... ish. don't get me wrong, he'll never smell bad or be unclean. he just doesn't pay that much attention to his hair, it's more fun if he gets to watch you do his grooming for him.

[therantingsage]

Because I promised this, and I really wanted to do it anyway, here's a really really long-winded rambling dissertation on:

Why N and Uzi secretly dating since before episode 5 is genuinely super plausible and also stupidly hilarious /pos

Under the cut cuz it got obscenely long oops-

Idk where to start, so I'll just cover my bases: why people think they've been in a relationship already in the first place.

We all saw this scene:

And legit it can only be implying one of two things. Either A: this is his confession of feelings for her. Or B: this is him admitting that they've been dating for a while at this point. With the hearts it's pretty clear that this statement is meant to be romantically interpreted, and Nori's aghast reaction confirms that that's how it's being interpreted.

Obviously no matter the interpretation, N only writes that because he can't think of anything else to snap Uzi out of it and thereby stop this confrontation from ending poorly. And it works obviously so good on him for the quick thinking.

Two things that make me lean towards the 'we're dating' interpretation over 'confession' interpretation, though: firstly, he's not writing this to tell Uzi something, he specifically calls out to Nori before writing it. "Hey btw I'm dating your daughter" makes more sense than "Hey btw I like your daughter romantically" because if it was the latter, Nori has far less reason to be mad at Uzi about it rather than N. It's not like Uzi can control how N feels. But if they're dating, that means Uzi is partially to blame for that and Nori can get upset at HER.

Secondly, the awkward wording. Like it's really vague and without the hearts you'd have no reason to assume anything but platonic meaning. But these are words we, and him, have heard before:

...from Uzi, in response to a question about who she is and, by proxy, the nature of their relationship. She says it defensively, follows it up by telling N to shut up. N repeating her wording which, again, is a description of the nature of their relationship....but this time implying something romantic with it, it suggests the idea that it had romantic implications the first time.

I don't think it's far-fetched to say Uzi at least has feelings for N at this point in the story. I don't think anyone's arguing that that's not true. But the idea that 'hang out' means the exact same thing both times is what I'm arguing here. They're dating, but this version of N is a stranger to her. A cute stranger, as she says, but a stranger nonetheless who she isn't comfortable admitting to that she's dating him in the future to his face.

Backing up a bit, Uzi's reaction to Nori's reaction:

This is a clear and obvious parallel to the previous episode, when 'Tessa' says "Don't date my robot, please."

In both instances, someone gets on her case about the idea of them dating, and in both cases she doesn't deny it but instead defends both his and her own agency in the matter. No one is allowed to tell them what to do and Uzi refuses to let anyone try.

When Nori says it, though, she does seem to try and deny it for a moment. "I'm not-" She cuts herself off so we can't say for certain what she was going to say (if anything. it's entirely possible she started that sentence with no plan how to finish it, I do that a lot personally). But that's also because, like, she's Uzi. If this was meant to be a secret relationship, it would probably be her who made that decision. And like with butler N, she has no reason to disclose that kind of information to a stranger. She'd probably try and deny it whether its true or not.

As for when it would've started, after camp is the only big timeskip where we don't have much clue went on during. Cabin Fever is a big episode for them, and the three episodes that come after it are all back-to-back-to-back. The only time it makes sense to have started is sometime between eps 4 and 5.

And guys. Guys.

This, more than anything to me, paired with the idea that they've been dating for a while by the time the most recent couple episodes happen.....doesn't this seem so, so romantic? You could easily call this a love confession! So easily! It sounds like one much more than 'we just kinda are hanging out a lot idk' at least.

Like, rephrase that even a little: "Being with you makes scary things fun. Being with you makes me feel brave. It makes me feel safe. So I want to keep being with you."

And Uzi agrees with that sentiment. He promises to stick with her. And she laughs and smiles with him as he makes the scary thing she's been dealing with into something fun, something they can laugh about. The together line gets repeated in the most recent episode, directly calling back to this scene as well.

Like, just...AGH. In Cabin Fever he says it once as they're falling and a second time once they're grounded. The second time its a question, and one she eagerly answers with physical affection, which is super rare for her. In Mass Destruction its a statement, because he already knows her answer. Its a repeated promise. A vow.

Backing up again. Let's assess some interactions under this context. Assuming they're dating in secret. Because it paints so many things in a different light and basically nothing contradicts it which is fricken wild. This:

Isn't a sheepish Uzi trying to hold her crush's hand in a moment of fear. This is an Uzi who wants to keep their relationship a secret but is so in need of comfort right now she's willing to risk exposing them to get it.

This:

Her being so relieved because she almost watched him die but he's alive he's ok and she doesn't care who sees it because she needs to hug her boyfriend rIGHT NOW GUYS I DON'T CARE I'M HUGGING MY BOYFRIEND-

This whole scene. Uzi interacts with him so gently here. She's not gentle with anybody else at all. She sees him stressed and uses his own "you good?" on him and it's just so dang tender when you think about it. Because no one else can hear them talking to each other. It's just these two sending face texts and everyone else's focus is on the Sentinal so they can afford to be as couple-y in this conversation as they want.

And after:

Blushing because they like each other so so dang much.......sweating bullets because the other two can see them do this. Suddenly without either of them really thinking about it they're being romantic around other people and wow! That's nerve-wracking! Peak young love early-in-the-relationship behavior they ain't slick.

His tone of voice in this scene is gentler I think than we've ever heard from him before (Michael Kovach you are so damn good at your job). His loss-filled fury is cooled in an instant when he realizes how close he came to hurting his girlfriend. It's heartbreakingly gentle before 'Tessa' cuts him off.

And when she cuts Uzi off:

He looks like genuinely pissed at her. "Did you really just interrupt my gf while she was talking?? She's scared and you're disrespecting her tf is wrong with u??"

And like- the fact he was genuinely willing to off Tessa for her. Like he realizes there's a possibility she tried to get his gf killed for no reason and upon her not even trying to deny it he just kills her instantly. Because it's no longer a question of the universe or Uzi. It's a question of Tessa or Uzi, and its a choice his heart has already made before this point.

But here's like. The thing about all this that gets me. This is meant to be a secret relationship, right? Like nobody but them is supposed to know about this. And the fact that we the audience didn't have any reason to assume them to be an established relationship without heavy headcanoning means they did a decent job at that, right?

Guys. Guys.

N is terrible at keeping secrets. Like. Horrendously bad at keeping things on the down-low. Every single time in the series he's supposed to not spill info he like. Fails. It's wild. And because the relationship happens after "Inclusive reflexes!" that means that Uzi damn well knows this and still trusts him to try.

But based on V's reaction to the handholding in Dead End:

I'm honestly willing to bet she knew. She doesn't sound surprised, just annoyed that she has to see it. Which means N probably like, heard her badmouthing Uzi or something and got like way too defensive about it and she clocked him instantly. Because he's bad at keeping secrets. And she doesn't bother mentioning it during any of these episodes out loud because she doesn't care what these idiots do in their free time.

Can you imagine how many hundred close calls they must've had? How many times Uzi must've had to aggressively shush him or cover his mouth because he was going to say something slightly too sappy in public? The only reason we don't get to see the time period between eps 4 and 5 is because it would've been painfully obvious that these two dating is the worst kept secret in the entire bunker. I'm going insane.

Uzi fell in love with a proud himbo and they both know it. It's genuinely a miracle they didn't clue the audience in sooner.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: "What did [orcs] taste like?" {*distant sounds of tanoraqui going feral*}

I'm enjoying Chilchuck more in the manga because I notice him more, because he's less front-and-center talkative but in the background he's visibly thinking about things. I certainly noticed and enjoyed this moment in the anime, too, but it's a good example: Chilchuck is by far the best in this party at people, in terms of reading a room, understanding long-term group dynamics, and considering larger social questions like morality. His pattern recognition skills are obviously superb, and he applies them to dungeon navigation, trap- and monster-disarming, and social dynamics. He understands and gives practical advice on the relationships within a successful vs unsuccessful dungeon parties, and the skills of leaders thereof. He can often be seen eyeing the terrible new food consideringly before eating it. He's the one most often calling Laios out about No Eating Humanoids, including picking up on the fishmen eggs. When Laios complains that that's just based on a "feeling", Chilchuck does think about it - but still, when Marcille says of the dryads that maybe it doesn't matter if the plant is humanoid, Chilchuck says with concern, "Marcille..." He's the first to wonder how to make money from the dragon, but it's a practical concern, not greed. He's the only who realizes and convinces everyone that they have to turn back.

It all adds up to a guy who's never read a textbook of moral philosophy or the makings of a stable society in his life, but who could probably expound on them in layman's terms while drunk off his ass in a bar. He's responsible, including wanting to look out for his people, and very practical, and genuinely whip-smart. I'm not at ALL surprised to learn that he observed the systemic abuse of halffeet in the dungeon-delving trade and organized a union against it.

.

Shuro: Just say the highlights, alright?

Laios: We killed the red dragon, got Falin out of its stomach and resurrected her, but then we ran into the Mad Mage ad were separated.

Shuro and Kabru:

...actually, it's interesting how surprised I am, and was when I watched this, to see how...Normal Human Interaction Laios is in this moment? Upon request, he handily gave an efficient summary of exactly the highlights that needed to be shared - both what the others needed/would want to know, and not what they didn't need to know, lest Marcille be arrested for dark magic. Is he more relaxed around his usual crew, and thus acts "weirder"? Is this just a very specific circumstance, ie, it's reasonable to think the whole party has been considering exactly how to describe their adventures to others?

Maybe more notably, he left out monster-eating, which is also a cultural taboo but one that he's shown no sign of respecting so far. One must ask, for a moment: wait, does he respect that it's taboo in polite company? It's true that Marcille and Chilchuck, who'd both dungeoned with him for [mumblemumbletime], didn't know until the start of the story - he's clearly only just started unleashing all this culinary glee, even if he probably did already share infinite useful monster(-killing) factoids. Or is he aware and respectful of the fact that Shuro's definitely of "highlights" definitely only includes What Happened To Falin? This, too, is a level of character insight rarely if ever seen in Laios before.

.

Laios is like a deer in front of a lion... Yeah maybe I do want to watch Kabru flirt with him and Laios get completely flustered... Only if Laios turns it around by (later, after fleeing the initial scene) bluntly asking if Kabru wants to go on a date and/or have sex, and Kabru.exe stops functioning.

.

One must ask, for a moment: wait, does [Laios] respect that [eating monsters is] taboo in polite company? -my considerations 10 seconds ago in in-canon time

nvm, he's back on his bullshit! :) <3

Which! Indicates that his summary WAS intentionally geared toward Shuro's known preference, with maybe a dash of responsible dungeoneer team leader-to-team leader "fyi the Mage IS around"!

.

Ok now for the bit I'm particularly obsessed with...

Shown: man forcibly slamming down an impenetrable mental barrier called "Doing What I Must" in between Traumatic Memories & Moral Qualms and Words, Tone, Facial Expressions, Body Language & Anything Else Someone Else Could Sense:

Shown: Man with aforementioned barrier firmly in place [but still possibly seeing horrors on the backs of his eyelids]:

(Also shown: Man increasingly wishing that this is all some sort of elaborate hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and stress:

.

Then this!

Until proven otherwise, I'm pretty certain that this last panel is the exact moment Kabru's brain started bouncing like a yo-yo wrt Laios. Because!

Kabru invited himself into this conversation as part of his overall quest: to look for a decent King for the dungeon. [ABBA playing faintly in the background] He's officially given up "finding" rather than "becoming", but he hasn't 100% ruled it out as an option - the goal is to get one.

Imagine that Kabru's brain includes a little hexagon like the food matrix, but for necessary aspects of the new King of the Golden Kingdom. In order, Laios goes...

- up several notches in "Likely Ability to Kill Mad Mage" by having defeated the red dragon and met the Mage

- down probably 1 notch in Trustworthiness/Honesty(/Readability to Kabru Specifically, who is prepared to Manage a mediocre candidate if that's what it takes)

- plunges down in the meta-category of Will Prevent Another Utaya by plummeting like a Boeing in the technically-not-on-the-chart category of Triggers Kabru's Trauma by admitting - bragging! delightedly! - that he eats monsters. Kabru's trauma is centered around monsters eating people. What sort of horror is a person who eats monsters? (Yet, perhaps already starting to yo-yo: if monsters eating people is the ultimate evil, what is this reversal...?)

Then Kabru asks a few innocuous, friendly questions about this Absolute Horror, because that's what Kabru does: he lies through his teeth about his own opinions and discomfort in order to put others at ease and (thus) achieve his goals. Laios gives innocuous, friendly answers.

THEN: ORCS. This whole comic, we've had the debate about whether it's okay to eat humanoid monsters, with Laios begrudgingly agreeing to his party's refusal. And orcs aren't even humanoid monsters, they're full-on demihumans! Second cousins of tallmen!

Kabru actually has to take a moment to process this new depth of depravity which he swiftly assumes Laios has sunk to. I imagine WWII air raid sirens are going off in his brain. Laios is But then he leaps this horrific chasm, too, itchy though his knife hand may be - interestingly, his face isn't shown in the comic, but in the show, Kabru retains the exact same friendly, eagerly interested tone of voice when he asks, "What did they taste like?"

- (Sidenote: truly, in all of this, I'm most obsessed with Kabru's ability, willingness and determination to seemingly-blithely hopskotch and/or outright running-jump over any moral qualm for long enough to get the other guy to dig their own grave and/or let down their guard. Who even are you under your infinitely shifting mask, sir. Do you even know? Because I think some of what we've seen that's more "real" is part of the mask you wear to be the Hero Who Will Be King.)

And Laios realizes what he'd implied and says, alarmed at the misunderstanding (though it's not clear if that's for moral reasons or social awkwardness) but still smiling with excited pride, "No no!! We didn't eat them! Due to circumstances, we're currently working with them!"

With them! Laios is yoinked out of, if not the depths, then at least the utmost depths - while also snapping unexpectedly upward in Alliance-Building (pref. Interspecies, Local-Centric). Laios had already rated a 2, maybe 3/5 for his party makeup, but given his known lack of people skills, I can't imagine Kabru expected him to go any higher than that - and with orcs! Orcs who are maligned by everyone else; for whom the Island Lord regular offers a bounty!

Now, this IS predicated on the assumption that Kabru considers orcs a people who should be treated with like a legitimate, well, people, rather than killed like vermin. But I think I'm on solid ground, considering a) Kuro the kobold being a (mostly) respected member of his party and their secret late-night study-friendship; b) Kabru's harshly learned skepticism of the stories Elves tell about themselves and other races, which is where we've seen the heart of anti-orc sentiment; and c) Kabru thinks the Island Lord is a moron.

Mind you, I think the yo-yo-ing is relatively subconscious at this point, and won't start reaching an audible fever pitch until Kabru learns about the black magic in, oh, another 5 minutes or so.

...but I really need to go to bed, so I'll see what overanalysis I make of that tomorrow!

[jezabelle9299]

I don't know S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture-Spencer knows you're hungry, but you won't just tell him what you want.

CWs- Feeling like an inconvenience

A/N-Based on a true story (Me). Also very short, but I'm attempting to catch up because we are well into November at this point.

Spencer had learned a lot of things about you over the course of your short relationship. He knew how you liked your coffee, your favorite movies, every line from every book you’d ever recommended to him– but all of that pales in comparison to the hardest thing for him to figure out from you. Nearly every time he asked you something and you said ‘I don’t know’, the answer was yes– but you didn’t want to feel like an inconvenience. 

Whether it was something as simple as him getting you something from the kitchen, or even when he took you to the amusement park and he asked if you wanted to go on your favorite ride— the one that always had a particularly long line. You’d shrink down, and mumble a quick noncommittal response. 

And now you’d been laying on his couch for almost four hours watching an exceedingly long foreign film— without complaint, something he is endlessly grateful for— and your stomach quite literally just growled. Meaning you’d been hungry for a while, and continuously stayed silent. And to top it all off when the noise finally stopped you looked down at your own stomach as if it betrayed you. 

“Are you hungry?” He said gently, looking down at you where your face laid against his side. 

“I don’t know.” And you pushed your head further into the blanket laying over the top of you, trying to physically shrink yourself down. 

“It’s ok if you are, you know that right?”

“I know.” But you still didn’t answer his question. 

“So are you hungry?”

“Umm…” Executive decisions had to be made on Spencer’s part. 

“Alright, I'm ordering food for you. Do you have any preferences?”

“You don’t have to do that–”

“But I’d like it if you didn’t starve on my couch, because I have gotten attached to you. So– preferences?” It was said in a way that was only genuine, but you still couldn’t get your brain over the hurdle of being a perceived inconvenience. 

“I don’t know–”

“Is Italian ok?”

“Don’t you want anything?” He didn’t usually want Italian, and it was always the first thing he suggested if he wasn’t hungry— purely for your benefit. 

“Sure I’ll get something, but what do you want?”

“Well–umm” You couldn't figure out what the problem was now. You knew he wouldn't think you were an inconvenience no matter what you got, but you couldn't quite get your brain going again.

“Would you like me to just get you what you got last time?”

“Please?”

“Of course.” He gave you a small kiss on the forehead, and turned the movie back on.

[skiitter]

Ellana looked for Solas everywhere, in every shadow and alleyway of Thedas, at every ephemeral border of her dreams. She hunted him through time, through the annals of her own ancestral history, down through the last long decade of her too short life. She searched for even the echo of his presence in places too old and too broken to be named. And in every corner, through every door, across every dusty room, she found nothing. He was a ghost of a memory, something she stole and kept pressed to the edge of her ribs, just painful enough to remind her it happened.

As the years and the emptiness of her life shuffled on, Ellana's loneliness blossomed outward, consuming the gentler parts of her, until all that was left was bitter and ugly, the refuse of all her wasted hope. And so, for the sake of what life she had life, she set aside that aching desire, and refocused her grim determination on solving problems that he created. If Solas would not have her now, just as he did not keep her then, then so be it. He broke her heart, but she would not let him break the world.

She never expected to see him again, not in this life anyway, and most certainly not in the face of a stranger, in a tavern far, far away.

"This," Morrigan said, "is Rook."

Afterwards, her hand shook for want of something to cling too. The wolf statue she'd given to Thedas's newest champion was all she'd brought on her journey, and so it was to her own miserable shock she was forced to clutch.

"So, what did you think of her?" Morrigan asked upon their return to the south.

'I hate her' was the very first thought in her head, but Ellana pushed it aside for something appropriate, something fair. "She's so young."

Morrigan nodded. "Tis true, she is. But so was the Warden Amell, so was Varric's beloved Hawke," she paused. "So were you."

Ellana felt every second of her 36 years hit her all at once and she failed to keep the grimace from her face. "She's not Dalish, despite her name. I was expecting her to be more..." She could hear the word 'elfy' in Sera's voice as clear as day. "It must drive him mad."

"Oh, I'm sure many things about her do. She's quite obstinate, I'm told." Dorian stepped through the Eluvian after them, brushing imaginary fade-dust from his tailored robes. "Harding says she reminds her of you, all spitfire and stubborness."

It wounded like nothing had in a decade. It was a feeling so far removed from her repertoire of emotions, she didn't dare name it until safely alone in a room, far from prying eyes and clever sight.

Jealousy.

It's so base, so sincere in its immaturity, Ellana smiled despite the revelation. Jealousy, now, at the end of the world. How small it felt before the onslaught of things sure to come, how useless. But it was felt all the same. What a ruin the last decade had made of her pride, the irony of which she was unable to ignore. It would be better, she knew, if she did not love him. It would be easier, she knew, if she hated him. And yet.

And yet.

"El, darling, I've brought you some very expensive and fancy wine that you will pretend to enjoy and I--" Dorian trailed off at the sight of her hunched over in bed, sobbing quietly into her hands. "Oh, Ellana." He did not ask, no one ever did anymore. Instead, he sat down and drew her to him.

"It's not fair," she said into the crook of his neck. "It's not bloody fair."

"Love never is."

"It should be me, sifting through his fractured thoughts, demanding answers and receiving none. A decade of my life, Dorian. A decade. And it's just some--some girl instead." Ellana scoffed in disgust at her own fallible heart. "Her people, they live in his--his home--they--they are sat among his things. They--" She scrubbed at her face, pulling away. "I am so sick of missing him, of wanting answers to a question I asked years ago."

"I know."

"Does this make me foolish? All these years, and I'm still so heartbroken. I'm responsible for the safety of a thousand people and one man, one stupid and prideful man, has weakened me so utterly I cannot help but hate what I've become." Ellana looked at him. "I hate that I hate her. I hate that she was able to succeed where I failed."

"She's only where she's at because of Varric--"

"I spent years thinking of ways to make him stop, for just moment, to just listen to me. And now, she's got him trapped. Trapped and unable to run and I cannot even demand an audience after all this--this searching. He's just as unreachable to me now as he's ever been."

Dorian was at a loss for words, as nearly everyone was when presented with the ugly wound of her heartache. She did not begrudge him such things, nor did she push away his attempts to comfort. Instead, she cried for a while more, just for the posterity of feeling.

"Sorry," she scrubbed at her face after some time. "It's been a long day."

"It's been a long decade," he said gently. "Would you like some company or is this a 'wallow in your own loneliness' sort of evening?"

In response, she grabbed the bottle from him and took a heavy swig. It was impressively dry, like all Tevinter wine. With a grimace, she handed it back. "Company, definitely."

Several cups and not enough food later, the two of them sat before the small fireplace, having lapsed into companionable silence. He had just finished telling her of his recent run in with Vivienne and at the mention of their old friend, her thoughts were inevitably cast back in time to the Dread Wolf.

"I can see him in her," she said softly. "I see Solas in her expression, in the way she carries herself. It's...it's agonizing."

Dorian reached out and took her hand.

"She's so young and the weight of the entire world is on her shoulders. I know that feeling, I know how hard it is going to get," Ellana sighed. "I cannot begrudge her for things wholly out of her control."

"It is okay to hate her, even if it is only a little bit," he replied. "I won't tell."

"I know." She gave him a sad smile. "Maybe at the end of this, on the other side of all this carnage, I can ask her to tell him that I..." There was no word to properly encapsulate the sumtotal of everything she felt for Solas. "That I miss him, even now. And that if he ever wanted to talk, I will always be here to listen."

"He doesn't deserve your heart, Ellana, he never has."

"I know, but it's his anyway."

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (8)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

-------

You’re working today. You hadn’t wanted to, but a local congresswoman you had requested an interview with months ago finally agreed to a conversation in her office, and Bradley wouldn’t let you pass it up. It was only for a few hours, but he finds himself missing you while you’re gone. 

This is the first time he had really been alone in the house for a long period of time since he got back from the hospital a month ago, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had tried to read a book, or get lost in a movie, but nothing had really kept his attention. He was laying on the couch, the news on the tv in the background, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t fully dove into all that it contained, and he figured now was the time to do it, even if you weren’t here to answer any questions that he might have. 

It’s interesting, seeing himself this way. Groupchats where he was an active participant, talking about parties or plans he has no recollection of, or discussing flight schedules for the week. He swaps Star Wars and Harry Potter trivia with Fanboy and gym regimes with Hangman and sends music back and forth with Coyote.  

When he opens the text thread he has with you, the only one pinned to the top of his messages, his breath catches at the last message received. 

 I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.

It was sent the day of his accident, and he knew by the time stamp that it was sent after the crash. You must have texted that to him while you were waiting for news on his condition, and not for the first time, he feels both guilt and gratitude go through him; he’s so sorry that he’s hurt you like this, but he’s so glad he’s here now. 

He scrolls for a while, reading you rambling to him about your work day and bouncing ideas for articles off of him, jumping from one topic to the next while you know he’s in the air or teaching a class so he doesn’t have his phone on him. Based on his responses that come later on, he knows he never minded the almost nonsensical messages. Even now, he finds it adorable and enjoys reading through them. There are conversations about dinner and what true crime documentary the two of you were going to watch that weekend. 

There’s a little bit of everything in these messages between the two of you, but his brow furrows when he gets to a point about a week before his accident. 

I’m on my way home, he had texted you, You better be ready for me, Pumpkin. 

He scrolls further up, trying to find the beginning of the conversation that led to that, and he almost wishes he wouldn’t have. 

You had texted him earlier that morning, when he barely must have left the house to go to base, a picture of you. There was a playful smirk on your lips, and you had what looked to be the cap from his formal dress whites perched crooked on your head. That in and of itself wasn’t what made his breath hitch, though. It was the fact that you were still in bed, your arm draped over your chest where he could see everything but everything, you hanging onto only a single shred of decency. 

Fly well today, Lieutenant Commander. 

It had descended into a day full of teasing from there, each message dirtier than the one before. Descriptions of what you wanted him to do to you and him warning you of what he would do when he got his hands on you. He feels flushed all over, but he keeps scrolling up. He bypasses recipes you wanted his opinion on and a reminder of what the Hulu password was, and eventually finds more pictures. Some are more risque than others, but all of them make him feel like the temperature in the room rose by multiple degrees. 

There’s a tickle in his brain again, and he finds himself closing the messaging app and going to his photo albums. There’s a locked album there, and he knows, he just knows what it’s going to contain. 

He shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t. It feels like a strange invasion of privacy. But he’s wracking his mind to try and remember what the code would be to get into it anyway, and he curses when he gets it wrong first once, then a second time. He enters your birthday on the third attempt and groans out loud when he’s immediately met with the filthiest images he’s ever seen. 

It’s a whole gallery of you, or the two of you together, and Bradley can’t stop himself from looking. He bites his lip as he takes in the photos, his mind so overrun with thoughts of how fucking stunning you are that he can barely think straight at all. 

He stops at one in particular, clicking to enlarge it, and loses all thoughts entirely. Neither of your faces are in it, but he doesn’t need to guess that it’s the two of you. You’re sitting back against his chest, his ankles hooked over your legs, forcing them wide for him. He can see your nails biting into his thighs, but it’s his own hand that draws his attention. With the hand that’s not taking the selfie style photo, his fingers are gliding through the wetness gathered between your legs. You shine against the dark wedding band on his left land, one that’s noticeably absent from his finger now. He’s practically panting as he stares. 

He’s so hypnotized by the way the two of you look together that he doesn’t hear the garage door open or the sound of you walking into the house. 

“Baby?” 

Your voice makes him jump so high that his phone goes flying out of his hand, a curse leaving his lips. He scrambles to pick it up when he sees you reaching for it as well, and your eyebrows are raised high as you look at him in surprise. 

“Hey,” his voice cracks, higher pitched than normal, and he blushes. Your eyebrows raise a little bit higher. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yup,” he nods, faking a cough so he could try to clear his throat, his face flushed. “Totally fine.” 

It’s not difficult to see how skeptical you are, and it’s hard for him to maintain eye contact with you and not let his eyes flicker down your body now that he has an idea of what rests underneath the smart dress you wore. 

You eye him suspiciously, “Are you sure?”  

He contemplates for a moment, trying to figure out a way to get himself out of this conversation, because the longer you looked at him like that the hotter he became under the collar. He took a deep breath, nodding again. 

“I was looking at messages and pictures,” he says all in one breath, not liking the idea of completely lying to you. He rationalized that a different version of the truth was okay, even as the pictures flashed in his mind again. “Trying to see if anything jogged my memory.” 

You search his eyes, and he tries his best to appear innocent, willing the hardening in his jeans to go down before you took notice. He suspected you already might have from the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Did it?” 

If he thought hard enough he swore he could almost feel you. Your back against his chest, how soft your inner thighs left. How warm your wetness felt against his fingers as he took you to the edge. 

“No,” he stutters out after a moment, shaking his head, his face burning, “nothing yet.” 

________

He finds himself rubbing his thumb against the fading tan line on his left ring finger, something he had seen you do time and time again. He hadn’t really wondered up until this point where his ring was, but ever since he saw the picture with it so clearly against your skin, he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He’s helping you in the kitchen a few days later, mesmerized as always by how efficient and easy you made everything look. You roll your eyes when he comments on it.

“It’s cookies, Bradley. Nothing fancy.”

“But they’re from scratch. The dough isn’t pre-made. That’s fancy!” 

You laugh at him in response, shaking your head. You take the rings on your left hand off, sitting them beside the sink as you wash your hands before the two of you get started. It raises the subject back to the forefront of his mind. He had been desperate to ask you for the last few days, but hadn’t built up the courage to do it. But he can almost feel it on his finger now, can feel a ghost of your fingers as you slide it into place, and it’s suddenly more of a need to know. 

“Can I uh…can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“What happened to my wedding ring?” 

You pause from where you’re cracking an egg into the mixing bowl, your eyebrows raised high. You set it down gently, turning to face him. 

“Does it bother you…that I wear mine, still?” 

“No!” he insists, hating even the idea of you taking it off. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I promise. We just have never acknowledged mine? I know that I wear one - I remember wearing one, and I’ve seen it in pictures, too.” 

“You love your ring,” you tell him softly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you give him a small smile, though he can see the pain in your eyes, and shake your head. 

“You don’t fly with it on,” you explain, “you tried, at first, but you had been flying so long without anything on your hands that you couldn’t get used to it being there when you were operating the controls.” 

He thinks for a moment and the words come to him slowly. “You were the one who told me to start taking it off when I fly.” 

“I was.” 

“Why?”

Your lips quirk and you shrug. “I’m more worried about you flying safely than wearing your ring at all times. You keep it in one of the pockets of your flight suit when you go up in the air now.” 

Of course you were more worried for him. He should have expected nothing less from you and the way you effortlessly care for him. He can also picture that, he thinks. It’s easy to imagine not wanting to be separated from the physical reminder that he belongs to you, so even if he couldn’t wear it, he’d at least have it on him, in the inner chest pocket right above his heart. 

“So..” He doesn’t quite know how to ask his question, but you must read it on his face. 

You twist your own ring on your finger in the way you always seemed to do to center yourself. Pain flashed across your face and Bradley knew you were remembering, too. “They uh..they had to cut your flight suit off, before you went into surgery. You weren’t breathing and were bleeding…” you cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the visual from your head. “But it was still in your pocket. So. I have it.” 

He sets down the bag of chocolate chips he had been holding and walks the few steps to where you’re standing at the counter. When he holds his arms open, you don’t hesitate to step into them. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he breathes in your scent. 

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispers into the strands of your hair, and he feels the way you squeeze him in response. 

“You’re okay now,” you speak into his chest, and he thinks he might feel you press a kiss there, directly over the spot where that inner pocket of his flight suit would be, where he kept you when he had no other choice. 

The two of you stand there wrapped up together for a long moment. When you lift your head, your eyes are glassy, but you give him a smile and a small kiss to his lips. 

Later, after the cookies have been made and devoured, you join him on the back porch. You had taken to sitting on the swing together and when you sit beside him tonight, he sees you rolling something between your fingers. His breath catches when he sees exactly what it is. You’re staring at it too, your gaze intense and pondering. He doesn’t speak, not quite knowing what to say. Eventually, you break out of your haze and meet his eyes. 

“You don’t have to put it back on,” you tell him, holding your hand out to him. His wedding band sits on your palm, shining against your skin. For a moment he sees you in white standing right in front of him, wildflowers in your hair.  

His fingertips brush yours when he takes it from you, admiring the piece of jewelry he wasn’t aware that he missed until it was back in his possession. 

“But it’s yours. I want - I want you to have it.”

He rolls it between his fingers, contemplating for a moment. He swallows, suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn’t seen coming and that tingling that’s starting to become familiar to him. You had picked it out yourself and he knows when he looks, he’ll see an engraving of your initials beside his. He was always so proud to be able to wear this, knowing that it symbolized being with you, a small way of telling anyone who saw it that he was lucky enough to be your husband. 

But he wasn’t him - not yet, not completely. Everyday brought him closer to thinking that he could be, though.

“Pumpkin, I…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. 

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and turning his head to meet your eyes. You didn’t look mad, or upset, and you’re giving him the gentlest, kindest look anyone ever had. But your eyes didn’t hold pity or sympathy either - just a trust and love that he’s still not sure what he could have ever done to deserve. “Whenever you’re ready. And if you never are-” 

“I will be,” he cut you off; he wanted nothing more than to be ready. “I just…I still have something to prove to myself.” 

You nod, and Bradley leans forward to kiss you softly. He leaves his forehead pressed against yours when he pulls away, relishing in the calm you brought him. 

“I’ll get there,” he says, “I promise.” 

—------

He’s spent time alone, but he hasn’t spent time away from you with other people. He’s hesitant to accept the invite from Mav to visit the hanger he had here. But planes and his godfather had been a staple of Bradley’s childhood, an influence on his whole life, really. He had been cleared to drive earlier in the week, so that Saturday, he leaves early. He’s anxious at the thought of being away from you but he knows that the him from before wouldn’t have said no to the invitation and he was so determined to get back to who that was. And he knows that you have a life outside of taking care of him, too. You’re getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife later and he knows you’re excited, even if you hung onto him a little bit longer than a normal hug when he said goodbye. You had made him promise that he would call you if he needed anything and the whole way to the desert, his fingers twitched, wanting to call you just to hear your voice. 

Mav greets him with a large smile and a tight hug, “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Me too,” Bradley says. He means it, even if he does miss you already. He looks around the hanger, taking note of the few planes and motorcycles throughout the long stretch. It was a lot more than the collection he had when Bradley was 17. “What are we working on today?” 

Mav gives him his signature grin. “I want to show you something.” 

He follows him to the end of the hanger, where a large blue tarp is covering what can’t be anything but a plane. His godfather gestures to it. Bradley raises an eyebrow but walks up to it, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back. Like he suspected, he’s greeted by a Cessna. It’s a classic 172 by the looks of it, a smaller four seater. It’s a sleek white in color with subtle burnt orange line work. Bradley whistles. It was beautiful in a way that only planes like this could be. 

“When’d you get this one?” 

Mav smirks, shaking his head. “I didn’t.” 

“What?” 

“Take a look at the other side.” He nods his head, urging Bradley forward. Confused and intrigued, he follows the instructions, walking around to the other side of the small plane. He gets what Mav was saying, then, and sucks in a breath. Right there emblazoned on the side, in an elegant script, was Pumpkin.

This wasn’t Mav’s plane; it was his. 

“You got her about six months ago,” he says softly when he joins him at his side. 

Bradley reaches up and runs his fingers over the name. It’s foggy, but he thinks he can remember now. He had always wanted to own his own plane since the first time his godfather took him up in one at 6 years old. It was always a pipedream, though. He was never in one place for long enough, and while he was generally good with saving money, it was a bigger purchase than he had ever made. But then the two of you got married and a permanent station here in California. Between both of your savings and what he still had of his parents life insurance, the funds were there. It was you who had made the suggestion of finally pulling the trigger, and it was him who had suggested a four seater instead of a two seater so that if the two of you ever had children, you could all fly together. You cried when he showed you the name he had painted on it. 

“Still needs some work done before she’s flyable. I thought maybe you’d want to work on it today.” 

An eager smile appears on his face and he nods, already peeling his jacket off and heading toward the toolbox. If Mav noticed that he didn’t need to instruct him on where it was, he didn’t comment on it. 

The two work in tandem for hours. It had only been six weeks since his accident, but he couldn’t recall a time since flight school that he had gone this long without being near a plane and it felt good doing so again. It’s easy, getting into the rhythm of twisting bolts and tinkering with the engine wires. He thinks it won’t be long until he can get this cleared to go in the air and he knows without a doubt that you’re going to be the first passenger. 

His phone buzzes in the early afternoon and he doesn’t hesitate to put down the wrench he was working with and dig it out of his jeans pocket. You had sent him a selfie earlier when you had gotten to brunch, sunglasses on and a bright smile on your face with a mimosa in your hand, and he hoped it was another picture. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s Phoenix calling him, instead. He picks up, bringing the phone to his ear. 

“Nat?” 

“Your wife got stung by a bee. We’re on our way to the hospital.” 

He can feel the dread as it settles over him. His heart beats faster in his chest. “What?” 

She sighs on the other line, and he can hear commotion in the background. “She’s severely allergic, Rooster. We sat outside at brunch and we didn’t even realize it happened at first. She didn’t have her epipen on her so we had to call an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, but you should get here anyway, okay?” 

He feels like he can barely breathe, like the room is closing in on him a little bit. Mav must notice the panic written all over him because he’s quick to come over and take the phone out of his hand, taking over the conversation. He can barely hear him over the roaring in his head. You were hurt. He knew you were extremely allergic to bees. That was something he had remembered. You were supposed to carry an epipen on you at all times. He can’t remember if you’d ever gotten stung when he was there. He can’t remember how bad it got if you ever were. But now you were in the back of an ambulance and on your way to a hospital and he could feel his fear all the way down to his bones. 

“Bradley, hey. Look at me.” 

Mav is in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He meets his eyes and tries to breathe, but all he can see is you, struggling to catch a breath and being loaded into the back of an ambulance. 

“I’ll drive, okay? Let’s go.” 

He follows him to the car, not really calculating anything other than the fact that he was almost an hour away from you and what if there was traffic and why didn’t you have your epipen on you? 

“She’s going to be okay.” 

“But-” 

“Phoenix said the paramedics administered epi as soon as they arrived, and it didn’t take them long to get to her. She was awake and was already breathing easier when they left for the hospital. Didn’t even need to use the sirens.” 

That doesn’t make him feel better. Not really. Knowing that trained professionals weren’t panicking must have meant that you were okay, but he knows how serious anaphylaxis is, too. 

He can’t reconcile everything that he’s feeling right now. He has never, ever felt like this before. The thought of something happening to you is scarier than any mission he had ever been on, any enemy he had encountered in the air. 

“Mav I can’t - I can’t lose her. I just got her.” 

“You aren’t going to.” 

Bradley doesn’t say anything, can’t think of a single thing to say, and instead buries his head in his hands from his spot in the passenger seat. You were going to be okay. You had to be okay. Because he may not remember everything about the two of you, but he did know for certain that if something ever happened to you, he would never, ever recover from it. 

He doesn’t wait for Mav once they get to the hospital, the older man opting to drop him off at the front before going to find parking. He’s practically sprinting as he goes through the emergency room doors and vaguely, he remembers you telling him about the time this happened before, when you took yourself to the hospital and ended up needing surgery. He can almost feel that panic now, and it makes what he’s already feeling worse. 

“Can I help-“

“I’m looking for my wife. She was brought in because of a bee sting-“

“Sir-“

“She’s really allergic and-“

“Sir!” The nurse behind the counter snaps, raising her voice over his to get through to him. “I need your wife’s name if I’m going to find her for you.”

Oh. Yes, he thinks, your name. They need your name. 

It’s the first time he’s said your full name, and your first and his last name feel so right coming off his tongue. But he can’t focus on that right now, giving all of his attention to the nurse who is typing so slowly. 

Before she can even hit enter, though, he hears his callsign echo behind him. He spins, heart racing with anxiety, and spots Nat making her way over to him. She gives the annoyed nurse a kind, charming smile as she grabs Bradley by the arm 

“Sorry about him, ma’am. I got him from here.”

She pulls him away without another word, heading toward the hallway off the packed waiting room. 

“Is she okay? Nat, is-“

“She’s fine, Rooster. Coming down from the adrenaline rush that the epinephrine gave her, but she’ll be okay.”

“What about-“

Nat stops in front of a closed door, lowering her voice. “Bradley. She’s okay.” 

He’s pushing past her before she even finishes, spotting you on the bed through the glass and half drawn curtain. You look so small amongst the crinkly white sheets, still in the clothes you wore to brunch. Your makeup is a bit smudged and your eyes are red and he hates to think that you were scared enough to start crying. You’re holding an oxygen mask in your hand at your side. 

“Hi baby.” Even your voice sounds more pitched. He’s quick to make it to your side. 

Your breathing is slightly elevated, and the heart monitor is beating a little bit faster than he thinks is normal. He grabs the hand holding the mask, placing it over your mouth to start providing you with the supplemental air again. You make a small sound of surprise, but take in a deep breath of it anyway before pushing his hand away. 

“I’m okay.”

But your hands are shaking and your eyes are wider than normal. The skin that he can see is splotchy with hives. 

He looks back at Nat, who is still hovering in the doorway, an eyebrow arched and a small smirk on her face. He ignores the look. “Can you grab a doctor?”

You protest from the bed, but Bradley doesn’t waiver. With a fond roll of her eyes, Nat disappears from view. 

“Bradley. Sweetheart.” You grip his wrist, trying to get him to focus on you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re in the emergency room because you went into anaphylactic shock. You are not fine.” 

“But I am,” you insist, smiling softly at him, even as your body trembles as it works to burn through the adrenaline that was injected into it, “medicine worked just fine.” 

The door slides open before he can respond, an attending doctor who looks like he’s been up for longer than is healthy and in wrinkled green scrubs introducing himself as he walks in.

“Is she okay?” Bradley demands immediately, and the tired man looks startled for a moment at how abrupt the question was. Bradley stares at him, his eyes wide and unblinking as he waits for the answer. His heart is still pounding in his chest. He feels you tangle one of your hands with one of his and he squeezes back when he feels the pressure from you. He knows you’re trying to reassure him. 

“And you are…?” 

“I’m her husband,” he answers easily, the words falling off his tongue like he had said them a thousand times before. You suck in a small breath and tighten your grip on his hand again. 

“Ah,” the doctor hums, flipping through the chart he’s holding. Bradley wonders if all non-military hospitals move this slowly or if it was just because of how anxious he is at this moment, but he really, really needs him to answer his question. 

“Is she okay?” he repeats. 

“Bradley,” you murmur, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man in the scrubs and white coat. 

“She responded well to the epinephrine that was administered by the paramedics who brought her in,” he finally says, looking up from the chart and taking a step toward your side. He stops when he sees that Bradley doesn’t move an inch. He sighs, switching direction to go to your other side instead. “How are you feeling Mrs. Bradshaw?”

You answer his questions as they come, Bradley paying rapt attention the whole time. Your throat doesn’t feel tight anymore. You aren’t lightheaded, but you do feel a little shortness of breath. You feel jittery - wired, almost. You’re both assured that it’s completely normal as the drug works its way out of your system. They can give you something to try and calm you down, and they want you to stay for a few hours to make sure you don’t go back into the allergic reaction once the epinephrine has worn off. The thought makes his blood run cold. 

“Should she stay overnight?” he asks, but the doctor shakes his head no. 

“The standard observation timeslot should be just fine, Mr. Bradshaw. But we’ll make sure you both know what to look out for when you leave.” 

He walks out without saying much else. Bradley feels you tug on his hand, his name leaving your lips in a whisper. He meets your gaze and he watches as your eyes soften even more. 

“Sit down, honey.” 

He listens to you, dragging the chair beside your bed as close as possible. He rests his elbows on the mattress beside you, holding your hand tightly between both of his. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your fingers and taking a deep breath. “I…this really scared me.” 

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say softly, running your thumb over one of the hands holding yours, soothing the skin and helping his racing heart. Your touch is like magic to him, providing an almost instant calm that he desperately needed. Guilt curled in his stomach, knowing that even now, you’re the one helping him. 

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.” 

“We comfort each other, baby. That’s how this works.” 

“Why didn’t you have your epipen on you, Pumpkin? Don’t you normally carry it?” he asks quietly, a touch of urgency still in his tone. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you were alone and this happened, with no one around to call 911. He could have lost you, all over a silly little bee sting, and he can’t wrap his mind around that. He just got you. He had had you, he knew. But he was just getting you back. 

“I switched bags this morning and forgot to take it out of the pocket of the old one, I guess. I haven’t had to use one since college. I forget about it, sometimes.” 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to rid himself of the worst case scenarios. He’s the one that normally reminds you to always have it on you, he thinks. He vaguely recalls having a spare in the glove compartment of the Bronco, and in the drawer in the kitchen and maybe one in the bedroom, too. 

Not for the first time, he curses his memory and the accident that took it from him. 

When he opens his eyes, his look is intense, “Never again, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, but Bradley shakes his head. 

“No. Promise me. Please?”

Your lips part and you stare at him for a long moment. His gaze never waivers from yours. He needs you to listen to him. To hear him. 

“I promise,” you finally whisper. 

He rises from the chair, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his forehead against yours, breathing you in. 

“Will you lay with me?” You ask quietly, shy in a way reminiscent of when you asked him to say I love you on the porch all those weeks ago. He hates that you felt you even needed to ask. 

With no hesitation, he maneuvered himself into the small bed beside you. He kisses your forehead once, twice, three times, holding you as tightly as he could. Your body still gave the occasional tremble but they had lessened now, your breaths coming a little bit easier, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease. 

“Sorry for being a mess,” he whispers into your hair. 

“Don’t,” you whisper back, and he feels you shake your head from where it’s tucked into his chest. “It means you care.”

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say them, not yet or here. You deserve more than a frantic hospital room confession.

-------

Part Nine :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! We're nearing the end, but I think everyone is really going to like the next chapter. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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[personwhowrites]

Common Sense

Task Force 141 (kind of?) x gn reader(platonic)

No use of y/n or any female/male pronouns.

Words: 2k ish something

——————————————————————

Sense, that’s what they all told you in boot camp. If you want to survive in such a job, you need sense. Not just a ‘I felt that’ sense, but also common sense. It came to surprise when you almost put a sergeant in danger along with the squad you were assigned to. The base bussed with rumors about you, how you lacked common sense in serious situations and instead did stupid things. You don't like those types of rumors, it made you feel like you didn’t matter.

You did have common sense, you did know what to do in serious and tense situations.

“Are you done mumbling to yourself?” A voice spoke, finally you snapped back into reality and noticed you were sitting down in front of a man. “You’re a rookie, correct? Fresh out of boot camp?”

“Yes sir, I am..” You replied unsure why he needed to know if it was correct. “I want to apl—”

The apology was cut off short by the sound of him shushing you. You were taken back by this type of response and looked at his desk. There you found a label, his name written on it ‘Captain John Price’. You soon then turned your attention to Price, he didn’t seem so happy to have a rookie in his office, and his gesture made it clear he didn’t want any excuses or apologies.

“I have heard several rumors about you.” Price says looking at you, his face with a simple annoyed expression. “So, is it true you lack common sense?”

“No I don’t sir, I don’t believe that I do.” You reply is slightly hurt by his question. “I understand that things may seem like my fault but it isn't.”

“Yet it is your fault, you were the one crossing the enemy line.” Price adds and crosses his arms against his chest. “ I should be getting you fired and investigated., you could be a spy with all the actions you have done.

The word spy struck you like a truck, you a spy? How could he come to the exception that you were a spy? Could it be another rumor someone started behind your back that you weren’t aware of? Price cleared his throat, your attention back on him, your eyes slightly wide to his words.

“Are you a spy rookie?’’ Price asks you now, leaning back on his chair. “Your reaction makes me think otherwise..”

“I'm not sir, I was just taken back by your words..” You reply and look into his eyes now slightly scared. “I would never betray britain.”

“On that note do you lack common sense then?” Price asks, looking at you. “Looking at you makes me think that you lack common sense.”

“First of all I do have common sense.” You blurted with slight anger in you. “I understand that I might bebe violating some dress code with my piercings, butI do have common sense.”

Price leans back in his chair and sighs. He shifts his weight to the chair, you stare at him. It was clear he didn’t want your smart ass mouth talking anymore. An awkward silence rose between for a couple seconds before he finally sat back up.

“Twenty four laps around the whole base.” Price ordered as he reached for a file on his desk. “I don’t care if you get tired, I want them done before dinner.”

“That's in two hours!’ You exclaim and look Price. “That is impossible to do without breaks!”

“Dismissed.” Price bluntly said not looking on from his file. “If you did have common sense I would stop arguing and start now.’’

You looked at Price, he was being very serious about your punishment. You didn’t want to get a longer number so you left his office and headed down to the outside of the base. People around you were getting ready for missions, starting up cars and helicopters. The sunset was setting and you knew time was ticking down for you as you started to run. People gave you odd looks as you ran around the base, no one questioned you or even wanted to talk to you. Time became clear, it was so little so very little and you were just on lap seven. When you made your eight lap, Price was waiting for you, his arms crossed and a look of disappointment.

“Just eight how disappointing” Price remarks looking at you. “How bad of a rookie even you are?”

You look down at the floor, your hands on your knees as you're slightly slouching. Price hands you a water bottle and you immediately drink it. Price eyes narrow to the sight, did you really not take a break? You stand up straight and look at him, his cold gaze meeting your tired gaze.

“Who said you can stop now?” Price says looking at you now. “Go on, you had one of your water breaks.”

You look at Price and curse, even yell and tell him something but nothing escapes your lips. Soon you turn away from Price and start running again. Each time you finished a lap Price gave you a nod of approval and watched on. When you came around on your twelve lap, you saw three people standing besides him. They all watched you now. It seemed like they were trying to understand why Price is so interested in keeping an eye on you. Price stops you before you can runoff to do another lap, he hands you a water bottle.

“I'm surprised you haven’t decided to give up yet.” Price remarks and looks at you with some pity. “Call it a night if you know what’s best for you.”

You look at Price, unwillingly you walk away and soon start to run instead. You did see tall people next to him. One had a mohawk as their haircut was strange at first but then more looking into it did make his facial features pop out more. Another had a balaclava with a skull sewn into it, it gave you creepy vibes even more as you notice he was the tallest out of them. He definitely didn’t seem normal or friendly at all. A fellow male with a cap with a Union flag stood next to Price. They all seem to come from different backgrounds yet they seem to get along so well. When you came around on your thirteen lap Price stared at you. His gaze wasn’t threatening but more of a respectful look.

It took two more hours to finish up those twenty four laps. When you finished you collapsed onto the dirt. It was a sight, you were sweating and panting as you tried to regain your breath. Price kneeled next to you and looked at your shaking body. It was clear he was slightly impressed that you really didn’t give up like he expected you to. No one said a word, only silence and the cool night breeze hung around. Crickets chirped and the late night lights turned on, it was clearly late and you still needed to shower and finish your daily tasks. Finally after a couple minutes you regained your breath and stood up, Price stood up as well and crossed his arms. He had something in mind.

“Good job rookie, I honestly expected you to give up sooner.” Price beamed before handing you a bottle of water. “Follow me kid..”

You did as told, your feet ached but you couldn't stop then. When you followed Price the other three people did too. It felt like their stares wanted to eat you alive and know what makes you weak. You arrived in a building and saw a strange obstacle and Price stopped and turned to you, his gaze was now cold once more. Price handed you an L85A2, a rifle mostly used by beginners and people who fail to hold a gun correctly.

“I want you to do this obstacle and see if you really deserved to pass selection.” Price says and looks at you before pushing you forward. “Come one now, we don’t have all night.”

‘We’ the mention of it made you realize that the people earlier were going to judge you too. You heard the mohawk man snicker with the union flag cap man. Meanwhile the creepy tall looking man stared into your soul, definitely freaked you out. You held the rifle in your hand and tried to reject or say something but your body started moving. Your mind wanted to go against it and rest, but your body wanted to move and do as told.

When you finished the obstacle, a loud buzzer went off and you looked at them. Price had a semi pleased look on his face. He then grabbed the rifle out of your hands and looked at the union flag cap man.

“Gaz, you think they would beat your record?” Price asks them and the man chuckles, shaking their head. “No?’’ Price soon turns to the mohawk man and chuckles. “Soap?”

“You aren’t gonna call them a muppet?” Soap asks with a sly grin on his face. “That’s new for you captain.’’

“At least they don’t have a ridiculous codename like you when I first met you.” Price adds looking at you now. “Do you have a codename yet, rookie?”

“None..” You reply to price before yawning. “Why ask me that sir?”

“Oh you will get one soon when you're with us.” Gaz adds speaking for Price. “You are a rookie with common sense, correct?”

You let out annoyed sigh and nod to his words. It seemed like that common sense rumor would be sticking for a long time. Price ruffled your hair and chuckled, his whole attitude with you changed immediately and it seemed like the others as well. You looked at the four men in front of you, slightly confused about what's happening. Price soon dismissed you without another word. You left the building only to turn your head back around to see them talking like some sort of loving family. The scary looking skull masked man made eye contact with you. It sent shivers down your spine. Soap spoke, you couldn't manage what he said fully but he called the man ‘Ghost’.

The rest of the night was blurr, you found yourself eating cereal and looking at the table. You kept bobbing your head as you tried to remain awake. It wasn’t easy but you kept shaking your head hoping that would make you stay awake. The training for the day was a drag for you, already so you decided to sneak away hoping no one rats you out. You made your way into the busy hallways, buzzing with activity and movement of carts pushing items. You turned the corner of a hall and saw Price, he immediately saw you as you tried to duck behind a rack of boxes, he walked over and looked at you. He didn’t recognize you at first but soon did as you gave him a small awkward smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your rookie training?” Price says looking at you with a slight disappointed look. “A muppet like you really lacks common sense huh?”

There it was again, common sense..How come everyone you knew or well felt like you knew asked you such a thing. Have things become off after that mistake of yours? Did people really think you had no common sense no more or was it just to get under your skin?

“You done thinking? Because I still need an explanation.” Price says looking at you with a slight pity look. “Forget it, come with me I need to discuss something with you.”

You open your mouth to speak but Price had already walked away. You let out an annoyed groan and follow after him. He takes you back outside, past the other rookies and into the building from last night. There you see Ghost, Gaz and Soap all waiting for Price and you? Price pushes you up to them and they stare at him with some confusion.

“What is the rookie doing here? No offense..” Gaz says looking at you then at Price. “Thought this was private practice.”

“I did mention that I would be bringing someone here with us today.” Price adds before turning his attention to you. “You think that it’s okay to leave training and go sneak around the base. I think it should make some sense to punish you by making you train with them.”

Oh boy and training you did, Price made sure no one slacked off. Well mostly you didn’t slack off and tried to take a break. It did have its ups, you were training with a captain, two sergeants and a lieutenant. A normal rookie could never get that type of training, it wasn’t so bad in the end. They all gave you some slight pointers to better your skills and what not to do on a mission, for some reason they all had a good bond with you. Well except Ghost he moved away from you or scoffed as you tried to ask for his assistance or any tips. Soap told you he was like that to everyone so you shouldn’t take his actions to heart. Which you didn’t most of the time.. When lunch time you started to walk away from them.

“Where do you think you're going?” Gaz asked as he leaned against some pillar. “You have things to do or what?”

“Lunch, I don’t want to miss it and this training made me hungry.” You say looking back at him before Price shakes his head and chuckles. “What?”

“You don’t want to go out and grab a bite to eat with us?” Price says with a small smile on his lips. “You hurting us here rookie, we are a team after all.”

“Team?” You say confused before Price walks up to you. “We just don’t let some rookie hang and train out with us for no reason. You didn’t think this was a punishment.. Did you?”

“I mean.. You did say it was a punishment for sneaking away.” You say now embarrassed and confused by what's happening. “I should go back, I'm probably in trouble now..”

“Kid, don’t worry about that now” Soap adds, looking at his phone while leaning his weight on Ghost. “You’re with us now, so no need for some worry.”

“With yall?” you ask confused, Price sighs and places his hand on your shoulder,

“We really gotta work on that common sense..” Price says with a chuckle are you stare at him confused. “What do you feel like eating?”

You stare at Price unsure on how to answer, then look at the others. Then it became clear, they took you in but didn’t want to admit they did such a thing. You smile a bit, maybe just maybe you did need help with some common sense and they would be the ones helping you.

——-

Authors note; it’s been a while since I written anything. I hope I can get back into the rift of writing. All feedback is lovely, please tell me on how I can make the ‘fanfics’ in yeh future more enjoyable for you all. I take in all options and tips 🖤

[veliseraptor]

Hello! I am a huge huge fan of your works and the hanahaki trope, so I have burning questions about the xuexiao hanahaki au

Is this before, during, or after the Yi city arc? Is it a fix it? Who falls first? Does the Xue Yang reveal change anything? How does the best girl A-Qing react? Does poor Song Lan arrive only to have to play relationship counselor?

I am so hyped for more of your amazing MDZS fics <3

this is a fun way to think more about this au so why not! this answer is coming so late it's not even funny but on the off chance you're still around, anon, and/or anyone else is interested in this concept

the version of this I'm writing is set during the yi city arc in terms of being set during the flashback period (the three years of domestic living, specifically). as far as whether it's a fix-it or not, I'm sort of torn on that and I think it'll depend on how I feel as I write it, which happens sometimes - for instance, our love would live a half life on the surface was originally intended to be a fix-it and ended up...only sort of being that, loosely construed.

I'm inclined to feel like it isn't one because the plan here is really leaning into the potential body horror of hanahaki as a trope, and also rather than being based on unrequited love is more... unacknowledged/repressed feelings. and xue yang is kind of the king of never recognizing what his own feelings are.

and it is true that the whole hanahaki thing should really give him some clues! but on the other hand in the bit I have written when he hears about how it works his response is

“Huh,” Xue Yang said. “Why don’t people just…stop?”  Jin Guangyao raised his eyebrows. “Stop?”  “Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “Stop caring. Just say fuck it, I’m not dying for this.” Jin Guangyao’s eyebrows crept higher. “Are you proposing that someone will themselves out of love?”  “Why not?” 

so like.

I feel like to a certain extent I'm going for some of the vibe of the hanahaki au for 2ha that i read once, which did not have a happy ending.

but also I might not be able to resist making it at least a hopeful ending. I'm not sure; it's really one that would depend on how it felt as it spun out. to be honest, I only have the loosest of plans/concept for this fic. (classic me! my downfall, often.)

as far as who falls first - typically I think that xiao xingchen does but is keeping a lid on his own feelings because he doesn't want to risk Ruining His Friendship by pushing where he isn't wanted and I think xiao xingchen would assume that his friend isn't interested. and xue yang doesn't so much fall as he gets boiled like the frog in a proverbial pot. his feelings for xiao xingchen grow like a fungus, unnoticed until they're not.

but I do find hilarious the mental image of song lan showing up to find a slowly dying of love xue yang and a panicked xiao xingchen and just being like. what the fuck is happening here.

[batwritings]

Idk I'm basing off a tiktok animation trend I saw but gromsko or Krueger are invited by their Co worker or a fellow opt asking them to join dinner with their family, and their like sure. When the day comes they go "also meet my son" and comes in transfem reader, obviously a very pretty woman 😭 I'm sorry if this is weird, there's a lack of transfem reader so I'm desperate

OKAY LISTEN, I LOVE THIS IDEA-- And it's true, I feel; us transmasc folks do tend to get more of the spotlight when it comes to x reader fics. We need to give the queens their love too! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Krueger wasn't exactly certain how he found himself in this situation. It wasn't that he was unaccustomed per se, at fancy get togethers such as this. His time in the military as well as his status had lent him and invite to plenty of office parties. So when another Chimera operator had approached him, asking if he'd attend their family's party as a plus one, he wasn't inclined to say no. Being a plus one meant getting in free and not necessarily having to do much mingling with the strangers around him.

Unfortunately for the Austrian man, everyone and their mother seemed curious as to who he was there with. Surely it wasn't that uncommon for well-dressed men to end up alone at a fancy party, was it? He was beginning to question if he was out of his element, more suited for the field when another glamorous couple approached.

"Sebastian Krueger is it?" The man said, extending his hand to be shook. "My wife and I have heard so much about you."

Krueger takes the man's hand out of politeness. "You have, have you?" He asks, still completely oblivious as to who the two strangers were.

"Oh yes, our son tells us all about what a fantastic mentor you are," the wife goads, her haughty tone making the Austrian's eyebrow twitch. "He's the one who invited you did he not?"

"Mother, father, give him some breathing room please..." Comes a familiar voice. The couple part to make you known and Krueger can't help the way his eyebrows raise. The aforementioned "son" was none other than you, the new recruit, and the most gorgeous woman the soldier had laid eyes on.

"Absolut atemberaubend..." He mumbles under his breath before clearing his throat. "Y/N, your parents could use some manners in introductions, schatz." The man steps forward between your mother and father, the pair looking rather shocked whether by your appearance or his response, neither of you would know. He takes your hand softly in his bigger calloused one, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"K-Krueger...!" Your face heats up at his actions, staring up at him as he comes to stand before you proper. The musicians your parents hired begin to play a slower song, leading your mentor to drag you away to the dance floor proper. He guides you in a slow back-and-forth, your dress flowing softly behind you. "You didn't have to do that."

"Nonsense," Kruger tells you, one hand on your waist while the other still holds your soft hand. "They can bear one night of addressing their daughter properly. You do look rather stunning."

You can't help but laugh and break eye contact from him. "Stop that!" You laugh, lightly batting his shoulder. "...I do pass though, right?"

"You, Y/N are the most stunning woman here...and don't let anyone, especially not your bigoted parents tell you otherwise."

[vanyzvat]

ALTR 251521

Chapter 1: No Strings Attached

Chapter 2: His Name (You are here!)

Chapter 3: Jac͟k̷͟s͟͠e̸̷͡ptį͡c̀ę͢͠y̡é

Chapter 4: Chase Brody

Jack is only mentioned briefly, and is erased from the story (Due to being retconned) as a character in Chapter 5 and onward.

Summary: He would never admit it, but part of him is grieving his old life. He's unable to let go of his grudges, and how everything that has happened has affected him. There's a sense of rage that he can never truly express.

He shares with you barely a fraction of what that has been like.

Again, that was an odd question coming from him.

(A lot of things are based off personal headcanons and my own interpretation of these characters! Please keep that in mind. I apologize in advance for any errors! Please let me know if there are any so I can fix them.)

“Ha͟ve͟ you e̕v̧e̡r be̷en ͡be͟tr͏a̢y̴ed̛?”

Wasn't he the one who supposedly knew everything about every person he came across, so he could use that against them? So what was the point of even asking that?

“Don't you already know everything about me?”

“I̕ ̧w̷a͏n͢t ͜t̕o k͠n͏ow y̷our anşw̴e͏r͞.͝”

“Err... I can't say I haven't? But why are you asking me this? Have you been betrayed?”

He turned his head away from you. Ah.

A few seconds passed, and he finally nodded once. Seemed like that was difficult for him to even admit.

He trusted someone, and then that person must've broken that trust- Or something similar. Maybe that was why he was so enraged by the world?

You needed a moment to gather yourself before you gave a response...

Trying to comprehend that this was an entity feared by most, and that right now he was here with you, being treated like any other guest, and was actually opening up to you- It was really weird.

While you were lost in thought, he slowly turned to look at you again. He's waiting for you to say something.

“Sorry for being silent- I'm just thinking...”

“This is a lot to take in. I don't want to say anything stupid.”

“I'̴l͡l͞ s̷t̷op ͡h̸ere.”

“No, no- Don't. I'm just not sure what to say. You can still tell me whatever you want, though. I'll listen to you.”

“...Yo͞u'd b͡e̶ ţh̵è fir͝st.”

You blinked, taken aback again- So much that your mouth even dropped a little.

When IRIS talked about this "ALTR 114209" thing, they described something totally different. A paranormal presence, whose mission was to kill whoever was in its way. That its purpose was nothing more but to cause harm.

Maybe your conspiracies against the company weren't just conspiracies anymore. Maybe this problem had a much simpler solution that they were too ignorant to even think about.

“That's okay. Better late than never, right?”

He then mumbled something which you didn't quite catch.

“Huh...? Sorry- I didn't quite catch that-”

“A̷nti.”

“...What?”

“You w͡ant̴e̛d ͜to͠ know m͢y̨ ̵name.”

“I͡t͟ wãs Anti.”

More silence filled the room.

God, this was a lot of information, especially after barely knowing anything about him for the longest time. What kind of name was that anyway?

“Anti?”

“I͜t̛ was ͝a͢ n͞am͟e gi͝ven to͠ ̷me.”

“...Uh. It's a weird name, I'll be honest? But it's still a nice one. I like it!”

“I̛ li͡ķe͞ ͟it͜, toǫ.”

“So someone gave that name to you- Who? That's assuming you don't have parents or anything like that...”

You heard him exhale through his teeth then watched as he crossed his arms. Probably a touchy subject. But almost everything feels like a touchy subject for him... You didn't know what was okay to ask and what wasn't.

“Loǹg st̶or̕y.”

“It's d͡iffic̛ult t͝o pu̸t into w̸o̵r͡d͡s.”

“Anḑ I̛ alre̸a̵d͠y ͢s͟t͡r͢ug͏gle e̵nou͝gh̡ with simple thīngs.”

While it was true that Anti was not the best at holding up casual conversations, or at communication, you didn't really care.

Besides, he brought his own baggage up, he couldn't just leave you with his name and go without providing any explanation...

And as if he could read your mind-

“Y͟ou ̛want̴ mȩ t̷o͜ ͘c̡on͞tin̡u͝e, d̸o̴n̨'t y͜o͜u.”

“Well, I don't want to be left on a cliffhanger.”

“I̶ c͝a͡n̶ t̀el͜l̛...”

“Į w̛óu̢ld͠n͡'t wan͡t to leave my̸ ͢on̨l̛y͏ ͜fr̕ie͠nd ͟h̕ang͝i͟ņģ, ͝wo͞ul̡d̀ I? Nǫ, I̵ ̕w͏ould̢n't̨.”

Anti was smiling, with his tone as playful as it always was.

But then his smile faded, and his voice became unusually serious.

“I was ma͟ni͢f̛ested. Man͠i̸feste̡d by̵ stro̵n̷g f͝e̢e͡lings o͞f̷ l͏o̡n̢elin̡e͝s̨s͞, wort̡h̨les̨s̡nèss. One͢ mom͞ent I ͜w͝a̕sn̷'t th̨ęre, an̕d̛ the nex͞t, I wàs͝.”

“Manifested? By who?”

“His n͟a̢me dǫe̸sn't ̡ma̡tte̛r.”

Jack— The name of the person who manifested Anti into existence, was Jack. But you didn't know that.

“Was it... The same person who gave you your name?”

“Yes, and n̨o͡...”

“He̕ ̨w͠as ̛lik̢è y͟o͠u̵. H̷e śp̡eńt h͞is ̀d͠a͞ys pro̡vid͡i̷ng e̕ntért̵ainment͢ ͏t̀o͢ t͝h̀e worl̴d.”

“H̷e g̢av͏e, a͢n͞d h̵e g͜av̕e, and͘ he͟ ͏gave͏.”

The memories are flooding back to him.

“Ga̷v͢e̢ so mųch w̧i͢th̴o̢ut͏ e̶ver̸ getting an̕y̶t͞hing in re̛tu͞rn͏.”

...Memories of him watching as Jack overworked himself to insanity, and those that apparently "loved him so much" not caring at all.

Jack gave them everything, and they just watched. Just watched as he neglected himself, as he spiralled.

They didn't deserve him.

Why couldn't Jack understand that?

They only pretended to care about him so they could get their "content". And of course, like the idiot he was, he believed them.

But not Anti. Anti saw through their lies.

Jack was nothing but a source of entertainment to them.

You reminded him of Jack, in a way.

Was that why it was so difficult for him to give up on you?

“Th̛ose lee̶c̕hes... H͟i̴s "co͡mm͟u̡nity" as ͘he c͘a͢l̢led ̶t͠hem— T̢hey thínk ţh͡éy ma͡ḑe͢ A͞ǹtį.”

He raised his voice, his voice full of hatred towards those "people". He twitched uncontrollably, with reality warping around him to match his state of mind.

“Bu͝ţ they d͜ìd͞n͝'t͡ ͝mak͏e An͘ti͡. He did.”

You didn't give much of a response, besides nodding along to let him know you were paying attention. It wasn't that you weren't bothered to, it was that you didn't know how to.

You weren't a supernatural being, so it wasn't as if you could somehow relate to many of the things he mentioned. So you settled for just listening to him talk...

He was willing to open up to you, even just a bit, and you weren't going to make it all about you.

“Well, Anti, I guess this means you aren't as one-dimensional as IRIS claims you are.”

He laughed. It sounded strangely normal.

“Oh, th͡e͏y d͘o͠n't know an̨ythin̶g about̴ me.”

Despite him being someone who was meant to terrify you, you were fine. As for him...

“Were you scared?”

Your question must have confused him a bunch, because the distortion around you immediately subsided.

“W̶ha͜t?”

“Were you scared of talking to me. About all this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Y͘ou̸ h̀a̷ve a͜ l̀ot ̵of aud͏ac̨i̕ty ̕to̸ a͟s̕k͞ ͜m͞e that̵.”

“I'm only curious...”

You shrugged.

“...It'̨s͝ be̶en a̛t͏ thé ba̢c̷k o̕f my̢ min͢d f̷o̴r a w̕h́ile ̛noẃ.”

“T̢he̛r͢e's many̵ th̵ing̵s I ̀wish I͠ ̴c̡o͜uļd sh̵a͡re ̨w͘ith y͢ou̧. I͢ j͏us͠t̡ ̷don't͠ kno͝w͟ h͏ow̛ tó... Yēt.”

“It's okay. I think I understand, anyway.”

“You're basically the embodiment of someone's negative thoughts, right?”

“S͏óm͟ethin͠g like ̸tha͠t̷.”

“Eh, whatever. Still, I don't expect a being like you to know much about emotions. Let alone how to express them.”

He could only nod silently...

He seemed to be doing that a lot around you.

Everywhere he went, he left destruction behind, so it was very awkward having someone treat him like any other person for a change. He didn't get why you were like the way you were, and it made Anti feel sick to be in the dark.

It felt weird to not have control of the situation. He couldn't find the right words to describe how you made him feel.

Part of him did feel afraid, so you were right in a way. He despised talking about things that bothered him- Things that made him feel small and weak. All he wanted was to be the one looking down at those inferior to him, he didn't need sob stories.

But you- Why were you different?

“Is there... Anything else?”

You interrupt his train of thought.

“Çan ͜I sta̸y͢ ẁi͠th yo͡ú f͟o͠r ́a͜ w͟hįl͏e͡?”

“Of course!”

You didn't anticipate for Anti to "teleport" closer to you, but you didn't mind. He wanted company, and were there to provide. You liked his company too.

You looked at him. He's staring off into nothing. What's he thinking about?

He soon caught you staring at him, and you immediately glanced off.

After a moment, you felt him rest his head on your shoulder, and you didn't bother stopping him.

He wasn't a social being, like you said. So you kinda predicted that this whole thing would tire him more than the average person.

Him showing you any sort of affection was a little surprising, but you didn't mind that either. You got to know him a little better today.

A couple of minutes pass.

He's been awfully quiet, and part of you is concerned because he's never quiet. You're not sure if he was content or upset.

“You okay?”

“Y̴eāh.”

“I͢'m upsēt things h̕av͟e to be t̕hȩ ͢way̷ they͞ ́are, bu͢t yóù make i͢t ea͢sie̵r̛.”

Oh!

You smiled.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

He really hoped you wouldn't break that trust.

He was still doubtful about everything he had just told you, but he was trying to have faith in you. But he didn't have much faith in humans, really.

...You eventually realized that he never really spoke about what happened in regards to this entire "betrayal" thing.

If anything, the only thing he had done today was vaguely provide you with very little context, if any. He only admitted that this betrayal had something to do with the unnamed person he mentioned.

“Can you... Tell me more about this "betrayal"?”

“I̴ kno͡w̛ yo̕u̢'̛re c͡uri̡òu̷s̡, būt- A̧noth̴ȩr t̶im̀e.”

His voice was quiet. Was it really something that personal?

“Alright, I can wait.”

You shifted around, changing position until you got comfortable. He waited for you, then went right back to what he was doing before.

You closed your eyes.

The two of you stayed that way for a while longer, not bothering to talk.

It felt like time itself had stopped.

It was quite nice, actually.

“Th́an͡k̸ yòu̶,”

“Huh? For what?”

“I fórg̨ot͡ what ̀it w͏as͜ ͢lik̢e to̡ b̴e a ̸pe͏r̡son. To ͢b̨e͏ tr͝e͠ąte͞d͡ like a pe̴rsơn.”

“I'm here to remind you.”

A smile appears on his face.

You couldn't see it, but you still had a feeling he was doing a little better than when he first arrived...

This was bittersweet for him.

He had been in denial for so long, years even, to the point where just thinking about Jack and about his situation felt like someone was cutting him up to bits.

His old life was gone.

He was alone.

To everyone, he was nothing more but a demonic presence, who took the lives of those in his path without reason.

But you sympathised with him, somehow. You listened to him and welcomed him, despite everything. It was weird- You were weird.

He knew many people had no one in their life, but none of them had fallen as low as you. Even if they wanted to die, their instincts still kicked in when they saw him...

Oh well.

It didn't matter.

It still meant so much to him.

You couldn't even fathom how much he'd yearned to have someone in his life- Even he never realized how isolated he really was in this world. Until he found you. A friend.

His eyes shut on their own, and he let them. He didn't necessarily need sleep, but somehow, he was still tired.

It was a contrast to how he usually acted, especially in regards to the records IRIS had of him.

He couldn't recall the last time he felt a sense of safety.

A feeling of somewhere he belonged, the feeling of home.

That's it- That's how he would describe how you made him feel if he ever needed to put it into words. You felt like home.

And as you eventually fell asleep besides him, Anti realized he didn't have to always be alone.

Not giving up on you when he should've was a mistake, and it was his best one yet.