#and then gets overwhelmed when the initial high fades away
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malpractice-husbands · 1 year ago
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Wilson started talking about having kids and House decided he has to stop it immediately before this impulsive disaster of a man do another stupid thing. He has to supervise him just as much as the other one, because the moment you loose sight of him, he's already in some deep shit
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headkiss · 1 year ago
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Oooo what abt a cozy holiday fic w steve & shy reader snuggling under blankets w hot cocoa🥹
hiii thank u for this request!! here’s some sweet steve fluff with r after a tough day at work <3 | 0.6k
Steve Harrington has become your comfort person, which, if someone had told you that in high school, you would’ve never believed.
Now, however, he’s different, letting his goodness shine through. You’re not sure how you got lucky enough to land him, but after a run-in at the grocery store, a first date (and many more), you get to call him your boyfriend.
Dating has never been the easiest for you, with your shyness that hasn’t faded much over the years, but Steve was patient, following your lead while also encouraging you to open up.
So, months of dating, and you’re only ever happy to see him, the nerves dissipated with the first ‘I love you,’ that he spoke.
“Stevie?” You call, stepping into the Harrington home, your spare key in hand.
“In here, honey!” He calls, his voice filtering out of the living room.
Even just the sound of it has you relaxing a little, setting your things down and walking over to him.
In the living room, you find that the couch has been covered with cozy blankets and pillows, a Christmas movie paused at the opening credits on the TV, and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate sit on the coffee table.
“Hi,” he says, taking the few steps over to you as you look around. “I thought we could do a holiday movie night. What do you think?”
Your heart squeezes, and after the day you’ve had, your eyes well up a little, too. You surge forward and wrap your arms around his middle, cheek pressed to his shirt. “Thank you.”
Steve hugs you back easily, a reflex at this point, an arm around your shoulders, stroking your back gently, a hand pressed to your head to keep you close. He thinks about when you used to be too afraid to initiate anything, and feels immensely thankful that you’d trusted him enough to get to where you are now.
“I was hoping you’d like it, but I didn’t think it’d be this much,” he says, chin resting on the top of your head. “You alright, honey?”
You sniffle once, nodding against him. “Bad work day. The holidays are so busy, and I was out front all day. Just tired.”
You’ve always preferred to be in the back, doing stock or cleaning things up, because it’s so much easier. No awkward conversation you’ll stress over later, no second-guessing every word you say to strangers.
Steve knows that, so he dips to press a kiss to your hair. “I’m sorry, honey. I know it can be overwhelming. Let me help you feel better, yeah?”
“Thank you, Stevie.”
You let him lead you to the couch, where he sits right next to you, an arm swung over your shoulders. Before you know it, he’s got you bundled up in blankets and tugged close to his side.
He presses play on the remote, letting the Christmas movie and its festive soundtrack start to play. “Comfy?” He checks.
“Mhm. The comfiest.”
“Perfect,” he kisses your head again. “You just tell me when you want some hot chocolate, I’ll pass it to you.”
“I can get it myself, you know.”
“Yeah, but I like taking care of you.”
You shake your head with a small smile, the stress of your work day melting away, the awkward encounters long forgotten.
Eventually, about halfway through the movie, Steve realizes that you’d fallen asleep, cheek on his shoulder, hand holding onto his arm. He focuses on your steady breathing, on your face completely soft and relaxed, and he can’t help but smile.
Steve thinks that this Christmas and every other one to come, the only gift he’ll ever need is you.
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clu-ven · 2 years ago
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I don‘t know if your Requests are open, but if they are could you write one where the Reader is a Jedi and traveling with the Bad Batch and when they meet Rex in the Bar she finally reunites with him and the Bad Batch just being so confused that a Jedi and Clone were in a relationship while the Republic was still there.🤗
That Familiar Feeling
word count: 3.4k
tags: vague mentions of dealing with grief and order 66, self-doubt, crying, many happy kisses
~and before anyone points it out, lemme just say this doesn't exactly match the scene of Rex reuniting with the Batch (for obvious reasons and because I forgot little details which is annoying me lol)~
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Something’s… off.
Entering Cid’s Parlour, the feeling of the force overwhelms you. It’s as if someone has thrown cold water over you, the force welcoming you with an eerie friendliness. It makes you falter, stopping abruptly as the sensation ambushes you.  
“Oof-” Echo walks straight into you, bumping against your shoulder. He takes a step to the side, his surprised expression quickly becoming one of concern “You ok? What is it?”. 
“I… I’m not sure,” you answer honestly, before trying to ease his worry “It’s probably nothing, I’ll be fine in a few minutes”. 
Echo isn’t convinced but he gives you a nod, not wanting to pry. “If you’re sure…” giving you a swift once over to make sure you didn’t get injured on the mission, he carries on.
It’s been a while since you last connected with the force, becoming hesitant to reach out ever since it happened. You tried in the initial days after the order was given but the overwhelming pain and grief that greeted you each time made you pull away. 
It’s not something you could deal with then and it’s not something you can deal with now, the wounds still fresh in your mind.
But this is a different feeling. It’s the force you used to know, something that worked with you and not against. It’s familiar… and that puts you on edge. 
With this familiarity brings a fear of the unknown. When you worked hand in hand with the force, you could have located what’s causing this in a matter of seconds… but nowadays, where you go from week to week without reaching out to the force, it’s much harder, with the subtle shift in atmosphere being your only warning that something is different.
Your eyes scan the parlour, though there’s nothing out of the ordinary. The usual crowd is here, drinking their problems away and playing Dejarik.
Unfortunately, the Batch has gotten back later than expected, so the limited sunlight that graces Cid’s parlour during the day has vanished. Now, you can only rely on the frustratingly dim lights to help your investigation.
“C’mon, this way,” Cid cuts off your search, walking past you as she gestures to her office. Everyone begins to follow her, though you’re more reluctant. 
Hunter catches your eye and you know he can sense it too but through a different method. Exchanging uneasy looks, you both make a silent agreement to stay on high alert before trailing after Cid and into her office. 
Thankfully Cid isn’t in the mood for nonsense (when is she?) and so she gets straight into business. You stay quiet during the debrief of the mission and the accompanied discussion of payment, your mind elsewhere.
Although the feeling isn’t as strong in here, it’s still undoubtedly nearby, invading your every thought. Even when Cid’s focus turns to you, the feeling’s hold on you doesn’t fade.
“What’s her problem?” her voice is faint, as if she’s far off in the distance. 
You don’t react. While this feeling is certainly daunting, a part of you is scared that if you push it away, this sliver of familiarity will slip through your fingers and disappear forever.
More talking ensues, though it’s more like mumbling to you, and you presume Cid has brushed past your reserved demeanour.
The harder you focus on the force, the quieter their voices become. Closing your eyes to further centre yourself, the feeling slowly becomes intelligible. You’re so close to uncovering what is causing this when it happens.
The sound of blaster fire is so sudden, you accidentally let go of the feeling, your body tensing at the noise. Your eyes dart open and for a split second, everyone freezes, the realisation of conflict sinking in before military training quickly takes over. 
You reach down, instinctively going to grab your lightsaber but instead find a blaster in its place. Turns out, carrying a lightsaber in a galaxy where Jedi are seen as traitors isn’t the best idea.
Hunter takes the lead, charging out of the office and into the main area. Cid keeps up his pace, ready to defend her business with everything she’s got. You’re next in line, alongside Echo. Tech and Wrecker are the last out, both keeping Omega close.
As the other patrons scurry out, a hooded figure stands by one of the tables. Placing their blaster down on the metal surface, their armour immediately catches your attention. You almost didn’t notice the colour painted on to the plastoid, the dim lights distorting the shade of blue. 
It can’t be. Surely not. 
As much as your brain wants to rationalise it as being someone else, the instantly recognisable blue of the 501st is hard to deny. Before the figure pulls down their hood, the feeling finally reveals itself to you. 
This familiar feeling is not one to fear. It is not the grief of losing one’s you admittedly became attached to or the terror of how the war ended but instead, it’s the exact opposite. 
It’s a reminder of why you fought so hard. It’s the warmth people can bring, the safety you give others and is fondly reciprocated. But it’s more than that. It’s love. It’s Rex.
“Who are you?” yells Cid, gesturing to him. The others are still on high alert, with not even the likes of Echo noticing the comforting blue paint.
His gloved hands cautiously pull down his hood, revealing the face you’ve longed to see again. He looks uncertain, his eyes glancing over everyone until finally landing on you. 
Although his face is sullen with a mist of hesitancy shrouding his expression, you can still see his gaze soften for you. And that’s all you need to know it’s actually him standing in front of you, not some brainwashed soldier or distraction sent by the Empire. It’s truly him, the Rex you know and love.
Despite always wanting to hold out hope that you would meet him someday, you couldn’t deny the facts stated on the Empire’s records. You remember the ache in your chest when Tech read it out, solemnly stating that Rex was reported dead.
Tears sprout from your eyes, a mixture of pure happiness and relief washing over you. Echo opens his mouth to speak but you get there first, taking the words out of his mouth.
“Rex!” his name comes out as a choked cry, your knees starting to buckle as you close the distance between you both, Hunter and Cid automatically stepping out of your way. 
You don’t think you’ve ever felt so much emotion at once. Even when you first heard the news that Rex supposedly perished with the others, you suppressed your emotions. Though that was more out of fear, unsure if you could control the power of the force while facing so much grief. 
Perhaps that’s another reason why you distanced yourself from the force, scared that the constantly lurking presence of the dark side might have used such powerful yet negative emotions against you.
You know Rex isn’t a big fan of PDA, especially around his brothers but as you throw your arms around him, you feel him hold you back. His strong arms wrap around your waist, one hand running up your back to keep you as close as possible.
It’s a surreal moment to feel him against you, his hard armour hidden underneath his cloak digging into you as you try to press yourself even closer to him. Not that you particularly care about that right now. The only thing that matters at this moment is Rex. 
Burying your face into his neck, the warmth of his skin soothes you and for the first time in months, you relax. 
“I… I thought you…” you want to say a million things at once, your brain unable to pick one coherent thought to say “I heard what happened… the mission report said you were… Oh, Rex”.
Giving up on trying to speak, you move to see that handsome face of his again, your hands instinctively coming up to his jawline.
The look in his eyes isn’t what you’re expecting. A mixture of worry and fear shines in his gaze, his eyebrows pinching together as he wordlessly looks at you. It doesn’t take a jedi to figure out why this is his initial reaction. Considering the recent event between all clones and jedi’s, it’s understandable for him to be nervous. 
He’s scared that you won’t trust him, that what you once had together has died alongside the Republic. There’s only one way you can think of that can give Rex the reassurance he so desperately yearns for. Using your hands to keep his head in place, you kiss him. 
At first, you feel him tense. The shock that not only are you kissing him in general but in front of his brothers making him freeze. But just as you wonder if you made the right move, Rex melts into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as his lips begin moving against yours.
Unbeknownst to you, as your lips touch your beloved Captain’s, the Batches' mouths all happen to fall open. Well, most of them anyways. Tech is too busy doing something on his datapad to witness the kiss. 
Wrecker, who stands next to Tech, gives his brother a nudge. Tech looks up at his shocked face before looking over at you and Rex… and then casually back down to his datapad. 
“Wha- Tech,” Wrecker tries to whisper “are you seeing what I’m seeing? Or was I hit on the head too hard?”.
Tech glances up again just in time to see the end of the kiss and you affectionately bury your head back into the crook of Rex’s neck, the both of you whispering sweet nothings to one another.
“Considering her reaction when I informed her of the Captain's supposed demise, this isn’t a surprise” he shrugs, refocusing on his datapad.
Despite Tech’s statement that this isn’t a surprise, it most definitely is for Hunter, who stands there in complete shock. Even with his heightened senses, Hunter didn’t expect this. He isn’t sure what to do or where to look but thankfully, Omega grabs his attention. 
She lets out a small gasp as she makes her way to the front of the group, looking up at the others before a large grin spreads across his face.
“They look like good friends” she gives Hunter a wink and he rolls his eyes, subtly placing his hand on Omega's shoulder so he can swiftly cover her eyes if you two kiss again. 
Just like his brothers, Echo’s mouth falls open too but his lips quickly form a smirk. Memories come rushing back to him as he remembers the rumours that you two liked each other as well as the countless number of times Fives would try to get the Captain to admit his feelings.
It’s a strangely satisfying moment to see you both wrapped in each other’s embrace, finally getting some closure to what was once seen as a far fetched piece of gossip.
Speaking loudly so you’ll both hear, Echo pats Hunter on the back “C’mon, let’s give them some space”. As you pull your attention away from Rex, you watch the others silently agree, most of them giving you a reassuring nod before retreating to the bar area. 
Within a matter of moments, you lead Rex to one of the quieter parts of the parlour, your hand in his as you sit on one of the lumpy couches. Rex sits beside you, hand still enclosed around yours. 
You watch the Captain with adoration in your eyes, giving him a moment of silence as he gathers his thoughts. Your gaze lowers to his neck, noticing how his Adam's apple bobs anxiously. But then, he speaks.
“I… I thought about you every rotation, no matter how painful it was” Rex keeps his gaze down, watching how his thumb begins to rub the back of your hand “I wasn’t sure if you… well, if you made it. I tried searching for you through mission reports but when the Republic fell, my code was denied access to all official reports”. He huffs out a laugh “I was surprised the Empire was smart enough to do that”.
Giving his hand a small squeeze, you smile, though Rex doesn't notice, his eyes still cast downwards “Tech was able to hack into it. I’m marked as missing in action and uh, well, you’re actually marked as deceased”. You’re unsure how to deliver such news, unable to tell whether being labelled as dead is a good or bad thing, both choices having some pro’s and con’s.
Rex nods, quietly taking in this new information, though right now, he’s not that bothered by what the Empire has him marked as. Rex has more important things to address, the Empire surprisingly being at the back of his mind.
Staying silent, he lets the moment pass. Rex knows why you’re telling him this and he finds some solace in how you want to give him any intel you have. But there’s more important matters… or, well, relationships to discuss. 
Yet despite its importance, Rex is hesitant to bring this up. On one hand, he doesn’t want to mention Order 66 or the horrors it caused but he can’t just ignore it either.
As much as he wants to bask in his ignorance, oblivious to what you’ve been through since then or how you feel about the clones, it’s not something he can do. He has to know how you feel.
Speaking rather abruptly, the words spill from his mouth “I’m sorry for showing up without any warning”. 
You’re taken aback by his words, not seeing a reason why Rex should be apologising. Taking a deep breath, he elaborates “I’m not sure where you were when it happened, or what you’ve been through… I don’t even know if you want to see me and if you don’t, I’ll go”. 
Finally Rex looks up at you, his eyes glossy as he tries to keep his composure. But his voice betrays him, his tone cracking as he continues  “I want you to know that, you won’t hear from me again if that’s what you think is best. You have that choice. I don’t want to put you through more pain, especially after everything this face has done to you”.
You know he’s referring to the clones in general, doing a small gesture to his very recognizable face. Although Rex wasn’t with you when Order 66 was put in place, he has some understanding of what you’ve been through. 
Rex has had a lot of time to think about this, to picture how his brothers suddenly turned on you and tried with all their might to kill you.
It was this very thought that made him hesitate when you first entered the parlour. He was going to call out to you but then the doubts crept in. Maybe you wouldn’t see him but instead simply see the face of a clone, a face that tried to kill you, albeit not him specifically.
You’re sure you can feel your heart ache, watching as Rex tries his best to keep his emotions at bay. Bringing your hand up, you gently cup his face.
Before you can even speak, Rex leaves out a shaky breath, your touch comforting him in ways he didn’t know was possible.
Your voice is stern, determined to get your point across so Rex will undoubtedly understand how you feel. “The only thing this face has done is love me, cherish me, care for me when I’m injured…” you list out as Rex closes his eyes, hanging on your every word “carry me to bed when I’m too stubborn to rest, cheer me up when I’m sad and it’s this face that’ll go to the most dodgiest looking parlour in all of Ord Mantell in the hopes of finding me there”.
He smiles at that last part, a stray tear running down his cheek as he opens his eyes.
You’re quick to wipe it away, mirroring his smile with one of your own. Needing to keep you close, Rex rests his forehead on yours, savouring the sensation of your breath hitting against his face. “You’re sure?” He asks in a low whisper.
“Positive” you confirm, unable to resist the urge to capture his lips in another kiss.
Over at the bar, Wrecker tries his best to inconspicuously look over. Keeping his gaze fixed on the two of you, he nudges Hunter, causing the Sergeant to groan. “They're kissing again” he announces.
Echo rolls his eyes, poking Wrecker with his scomp link “Stop gawking at them, will ya?”. Wrecker flinches away from him, almost stumbling on to Hunter “Hey! Watch it with that!”.
“You’re the one who needs to watch it,” Echo retorts, his gaze drifting over to you two as he repeats his sentence in his head. “Actually, no, don’t watch it or well, them” he tries to clarify, huffing at himself before hastily stating “you need to watch where you’re staring!”.
“I’m just keeping an eye on her!” Wrecker snaps back “I didn’t think Regs and Jedi’s were on good terms anymore”.
Hanging his head low, Hunter tightens his grip on his drink. “Will the two of you shut it?” he huffs, feeling the inklings of a headache coming on. 
Echo opens his mouth to say more but stops himself, not wanting you and Rex to join them mid-argument. Instead, he decides to take another swig of his drink.
“Wrecker does have a point,” Tech chimes in “Rex could still have his inhibitor chip in place”.
Echo wastes no time in jumping in again, determined to defend his Captain. “Oh yeah, he definitely looks like he’s still chipped,” he replies sarcastically.
“Perhaps another defective chip? Or maybe the control the inhibitor chips possess are only for a limited time” Tech thinks out loud, purposely ignoring Echo’s response. 
“This is one long kiss,” Wrecker comments, causing Echo to once again roll his eyes as he realises Wrecker is still looking over “you don’t think they're going to uh… y’know… take it further? They know we can see them, right?”.
Echo doesn't even warrant that question deserving of a reply. 
Almost causing Hunter’s heart to jump out of his chest, Omega chirps up “How would they take it further”. She looks up at the Batch with an excited smile, the adrenaline of another clone being here yet to settle.
Hunter shoots Wrecker a glare, hurriedly fishing a few credits out of his pocket. “Here, kid” he drops the credits into Omega’s hand “do me a favour and beat Wrecker in a few games of Dejarik”. 
Omega’s eyes grow wide at the credits as she leaves out an “Oooooh” noise. Barking out a loud laugh, Wrecker beams “C’mon best of three, loser has to buy the winner Mantell Mix”. As the two of them wander off to another part of the parlour, Hunter leaves out a silent sigh of relief. 
The abrupt sound of Wrecker’s laugh catches both you and Rex off guard, causing Rex to reluctantly break off the kiss. His eyes dart from your face to where the others relax at the bar. “Was that directed at us?” he quietly mumbles, heat racing to his cheeks.
Giving him a reassuring smile, you peck his lips one more time “I doubt it, Rex”.
Rex gives you his signature lopsided smile in response, something you’ve ached to see for months. It makes you want to kiss him again but you can sense the others glancing over. 
“You ready to go over to them?” he asks, though judging from how his gaze lingers on your lips, you’re not the only one with the urge to kiss. 
“Yeah,” you nod, giving him a playful nudge as you add “the sooner you say hi to your brothers, the sooner I get you all to myself”. 
Rex chuckles in reply, standing as he tries to compose himself. “Oh you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you alone” he offers you his hand, shooting you a mischievous wink as he does.
“Well, Captain, you just have to wait another twenty minutes and I’m all yours” taking his hand, you stand, ready to reunite Rex with the Batch.
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dazailover4ever · 3 months ago
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Part 2: The Pull of Two Worlds
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Summary: After finding yourself entangled in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, your focus remains on one goal: returning to your own universe. But as you delve deeper into the mysteries of this strange new world, something unexpected begins to shift—your connection with Gojo Satoru.
He's infuriatingly carefree, impossibly powerful, and unlike anyone you've ever met. Despite your determination to stay distant, you can’t deny the magnetic pull between you. As Gojo pushes you to confront truths you’ve kept buried, you realize escaping this universe might not be as simple as it seems—especially when it’s your heart that’s starting to anchor you here.
With each passing day, the stakes grow higher, and so do the feelings you're not ready to admit.
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Your time at Jujutsu High began to blur into a routine. Each day, you trained under Gojo’s watchful eye, becoming more familiar with the strange, cursed world around you. The students, initially wary of you, grew more comfortable in your presence. Even the younger ones like Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, who had been cautious of you, started to greet you with casual smiles. Though your heart still yearned for the life you had left behind, this world was slowly weaving itself into your mind.
But no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the training and the missions Gojo insisted on bringing you along for, your desire to return home was like a shadow hanging over you.
One evening, as you sat in Gojo’s office, going over the details of a recent mission, you couldn’t help but bring up the question that had been plaguing you for weeks.
“Gojo,” you said, your voice soft but firm, “how do I get back to my world?”
Gojo, who had been leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, cracked one eye open. “Back to the big, bad world of billionaires, anime, and power struggles?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m serious.”
He dropped his feet to the floor, the playful expression fading from his face. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted, and that was the first time you had seen anything close to genuine concern in him. “Curses are unpredictable, especially ones strong enough to pull someone across dimensions. We’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened.”
You frowned, your heart sinking a little at the lack of progress. “So I’m stuck here.”
“For now.” Gojo’s gaze softened, and he tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “But is that really so bad?”
You stared at him, startled by the question. “What do you mean?”
He smiled, but there was a seriousness in his tone. “You’ve adapted well. You’re strong, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and,” he leaned closer, “you’re not half-bad at fighting curses.”
You looked away, his words tugging at something deep inside you. It was true, you had adapted. You had become someone who could fight, strategize, and survive in this world. But your heart still ached for home—the empire you had built, the people who depended on you.
“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered, your voice laced with frustration. “I didn’t ask to be taken from my life.”
Gojo was quiet for a moment, watching you carefully. “No one ever asks for the hand they’re dealt,” he said softly. “But you’re here now, and that means something.”
You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “But what if I can’t go back? What if I’m stuck here forever?”
Gojo reached out, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “Then you’ll make a life here, just like you did in your world.”
His touch was warm, grounding you in the present. But the weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you. Could you really let go of your past life and embrace this one? Could you ever truly find peace here?
The days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you had become an integral part of the Jujutsu High team. You worked with the students on missions, sparred with Gojo regularly, and even started to develop your own understanding of cursed energy. Though you were far from a jujutsu sorcerer, you had gained enough knowledge to hold your own in a fight.
And then, one day, everything changed.
You were on a mission with Gojo and the students, investigating a particularly strong curse that had been wreaking havoc in a nearby city. The battle was intense, the curse’s power far beyond anything you had encountered before. Even Gojo, with his limitless abilities, seemed to take the fight more seriously than usual.
But it wasn’t the curse that changed everything. It was what happened afterward.
As you stood on the rooftop of a building, watching the last remnants of the curse fade away, a strange feeling washed over you. It was as if something was pulling at you, tugging at your very soul.
You gasped, stumbling backward as the world around you seemed to shift and distort.
Gojo was at your side in an instant, his hand gripping your arm to steady you. “What’s wrong?”
You shook your head, trying to clear the dizziness that had overtaken you. “I… I don’t know. It felt like…”
Before you could finish, a strange, shimmering portal appeared in front of you. It was unlike anything you had seen before—rippling with energy that felt both familiar and foreign.
Gojo’s grip tightened on your arm. “That’s a dimensional rift,” he said, his voice unusually serious.
You stared at the portal, your heart pounding in your chest. “Is this… is this my way back?”
Gojo didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the rift. “Maybe.”
For a moment, you felt a surge of hope. This could be it—your chance to go home, to return to your life, your company, your responsibilities. But as you took a step toward the portal, something stopped you.
It wasn’t just fear of the unknown. It was something else. Something—or someone—you couldn’t bear to leave behind.
You turned to look at Gojo, who was watching you with an expression you had never seen on him before. It was subtle, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
“If you go through that rift,” he said quietly, “there’s no guarantee you’ll come back. You could end up back in your world, or you could end up somewhere worse.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “But if I don’t go, I might never get another chance.”
Gojo’s hand loosened slightly on your arm, his gaze softening. “It’s your choice.”
Your heart raced as you stared at the rift, torn between the life you had lost and the life you had found here. You had spent weeks fighting to get back to your world, but now that the opportunity was in front of you, the thought of leaving… it terrified you.
“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice shaking.
He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes said it all. He didn’t want you to go.
In the end, you made your decision.
With one last glance at Gojo, you stepped toward the rift.
But as the energy of the portal swirled around you, you hesitated.
Gojo’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “You don’t have to go.”
For a split second, you wanted to listen to him. You wanted to stay. But you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t. Not yet.
You turned to him, your eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry.”
And with that, you stepped through the rift, the world around you dissolving into darkness.
When you woke up, you were lying on the cold, hard floor of an empty room. The familiar sound of city traffic echoed in the distance, and when you looked up, you saw the skyline of your home city through a window.
You were back. You had made it.
But as you sat up, your heart ached with the realization that something was missing.
Or rather, someone.
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End of part 2
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nickyniccs · 2 months ago
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Sometimes, amidst the routine and chaos of everyday life, someone appears who lights up our existence in an unexpected way. From the moment we first locked eyes, I felt a special connection, as if the universe conspired to bring us together. Your words and gestures have made me feel special, as if I were the only person that matters in your world. There is something magical in the way you look at me, in how you make my laughter sound louder and my worries fade away.
With you, I have discovered a burning desire to create something together. The idea of building a shared life, of dreaming awake about the future, has begun to come alive in my heart. You talk to me about getting married, about starting a family, about having children, and though I had never considered those plans before, everything feels different with you. Your dreams intertwine with mine in such a beautiful way that I find it hard to resist the idea. It’s as if you are guiding me by the hand to a place where happiness feels palpable and love is breathed.
However, the distance that separates us sometimes feels like a heavy burden. There are moments when longing becomes a constant echo in my heart, and the reality of not being able to be together physically makes everything seem more difficult. Yet despite the distance and the challenges that arise, I continue to feel a deep love for you. In those tough moments, when the yearning overwhelms me, I remember every shared laugh, every deep conversation, and that gives me the strength to carry on.
Every moment with you, even if it’s through a screen, is a celebration of life. You make me feel alive in ways I never thought possible. The little things become big moments: our endless conversations, the laughter we share, those comfortable silences where just being together is enough. You have taught me that love is not just about being present, but about sharing dreams and creating a future full of possibilities.
That vision of a future with you, which initially seemed distant, now resonates strongly within me. The idea of building a family, of seeing our children grow, fills me with a warmth and excitement I never knew existed. You have shown me that love can transform even the deepest desires and that, by your side, each step feels like a journey toward something magnificent.
With you, I have found not just a partner, but someone who inspires me to be better. And even though the road to the future is uncertain and the distance sometimes hits us hard, I cannot help but feel that, with you, I am ready to explore every possibility. Thank you for making me feel special, for opening my eyes to a life full of love and shared dreams, for reminding me that, on this journey, every moment is an opportunity to soar high and touch the sky together, no matter how far apart we are.
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nelithic · 11 months ago
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disoriented as he is, the little king does not seem to heed her question; brow furrows, examining him once more for sign of illness or unsteadiness. after the initial moment of confusion passes, however, he appears stable despite the readiness with which he'd stepped inside that veil of color.
. . . curious gaze sweeps outward next then as she turns to survey the newly-revealed space — clear, now, as though a shroud had been thrown off of it to reveal daylight.
without a word, nel cautiously starts forward, beginning to sieve through the remains of blown marble walkways and blackened homes.
"then the question remains if this was intentional."
silence hovers between them for some time as they part for investigation, taking care to remain close in the event of unexpected danger. at the side of one of the buildings, as flakes of dessicated wood come off between her fingers, burnt beyond substance, she reconsiders what the redhaired soldier had said to her earlier: i could not find a single energy block that could get a reaction. and yet it seems this monument had been activated by some means.
the homes prove otherwise abandoned, their interiors notably free of corpses; furniture appears untouched, free of most personal belongings. it seems whoever had lived close by had time to escape before the damage had been done.
"diamant." eventually she finds him again, this time with intent. "since we can manipulate time as we like, i suggest returning to when the destruction took place. we may see what truly happened here. we should step back before doing so, lest we be caught in the blast ourselves."
once more on the outskirts where the edges of distortion had previously been, nel readies her spear in hand and her dragonstone.
and rewinds time.
. . .
"—get back!" the sudden flood of white-hot light leaves her with no preparation, but instinct still lunges to push her ally behind herself in defense. too bright, followed by a crippling wave of overwhelming heat. both arms before her face, she is forced simply to stand her ground . . .
until it fades, leaving her eyes stinging even closed, uncomfortable warmth prickling across her skin. but when she is able to look again, the vision swims with stark familiarity. a pure white obelisk towering high, the air around it warped and shimmering with heat; a circumference of newly leveled houses, seared black as coal and leaning precariously away from their epicenter.
so it had fired after all. and a quick glance reveals their vicinity strangely abandoned. no surging enemy forces, no upright man.
she turns cursorily to diamant instead. "are you hurt."
 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.
            ❪ zayin w. 3 / dreamwalking ❫
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mjmagics · 2 years ago
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The Other Woman -  U-J531
Rick Sanchez x F!Reader
Rick and Morty 
Rated NSFW - 18+ only 
Warnings: Issues of jealousy, not a full smut but heavy petting i suppose 
Note: Probably going to be a bit of a series. Also note that image below does not belong to me. 
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“It’s only for a day and one night,” his voice was calm, his large hand rubbing your back. “And then I come home to you. I’ve been gone for longer, much longer.”
“I get that,” you muttered, looking at the floor of the smith garage. “I get that it’s only 24 hours, I comprehend how short of a time span that is. It’s her. Why is she going to be there?”
“Well, it’s a conference and she and a few other of her kind are there to be representative of their species,” Rick explained. He was trying to be patient and understand your point of view. “Nothing is going to happen.”
“I know but stuff has already happened,” you subconsciously put your bottom lip out in a pout, and crossed your arms over your chest.
Rick was quick to notice your expression, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. “Baby, please. I swear.” He pulled you into a hug, his smell surrounding you. “Unity and I aren’t even on speaking terms. I doubt I’ll ever be near her.”
“And what if you are?” You felt tears burning your ducts, and a large lump had formed in your throat. It hurt to speak, it hurt to keep it all in.
“Then, I’m near her. She’s nothing to me. She’s my past.” He really was trying his best to provide comfort, yet you felt like you couldn’t trust him. “She’s not even a temptation. The only person I want is you. Sober, drunk, high, sleep deprived. I only crave you, y/n.”
You hugged him back, allowing the weight of yourself to be supported by him. He pressed more kisses to your head as whispers of love escaped his mouth. After a few last forehead kisses his lips touched your own, initiating a deep kiss. Soft, yet still irritated moans left your lips and before you could decide if you wanted to push him away his hands were on your hips, pushing you back against his work bench. Your lips detached as you let out a yelp of pain, only earning a groan of lust from the scientist.
“Rick, I-” Before you could finish your protest his lips were on you again. He was more passionate than before, hands now slinking past your hips to pull at the waistband of your jeans. 
“I don’t care,” He muttered, kissing down your jawline. “I want you, y/n. No one else.” His hands fumbled with the button of your pants, then the zipper, Once there was an opening his fingers slid in to rub your clit through your undergarment. “You’re mine.” He growled into your ear as he continued to rub circles on your bundle of nerves. It didn't take long for the pleasure to overtake you, a short but well needed orgasm, scratching at him as you moaned and cried softly, the overwhelming emotions fading away. 
When the pleasure wore off, and you were laying limp in his arms from the emotional climax, Rick pressed a few kisses on your flushed cheeks. “I’ll be back soon, baby.” 
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octo-hyacinth · 2 years ago
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HI HELLO IT’S OKAY UWU It’s me, your friendly neighborhood chronically ill anon who made the request!🖤 The request was for dorm leaders(with Malleus and Idia replaced with Jamil and either Rook or the Leech Boys) and how they would be with a Prefect S/O who’s chronically ill(weak due to back/joint pain, struggles to exert themselves too hard as it causes trouble breathing, has dizzy spells and nausea, etc.)but does their best to manage it and keep a positive outlook, even on the rough days!
Hello, my lovely anon! thanks so much for the requests, anddd im sorry if these hc’s don’t really apply to you, but i promise i tried bc you deserve to be comforted by your favorite boys <3
~~~~~
The Boys with a Chronically Ill S/O
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Jamil Viper, Floyd and Jade Leech
Content Warnings: total fluff, written on mobile, these boys are so smitten with you its not even funny, mentions of drugs(?)/getting high in Jade’s but its just cuz of his shrooms
A/N: guys omg i finally figured out how to get motivation to write omg [i immediately keel over and die from being scholastically overwhelmed] but putting life’s crap aside, this was actually quite fun to write!
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Riddle Rosehearts
Initially very upset when he sees that you tend to push yourself and ignore your pain and exhaustion on a daily basis.
With how much he fusses over you, you’re half convinced there’s a rule about this situation somewhere, but no, he’s just like an angry mother hen, pecking at you constantly to take a break, or running to Sam’s store to get you painkillers or whatever else you need at all.
Totally wants to yell at Vargas when he hears that he was pushing you a bit too hard in PE, and you got super exhausted as a result and had to force yourself to take a break.
However, Riddle’s very proud of you for powering through every day despite your sickness and pain. He doesn’t know very many people at the rest of the school who could endure what you have without complaining.
During the evenings, he likes to sit with you in bed and have a few cups of tea while going over homework or just having nice conversation, whether that’s just how your day went or deeper topics, whatever you want to do, he’ll do, for you.
Sometimes he’ll ask Trey to bake you some sort if pastry or sweet, if you so desire. If not, then he’ll treat you to whatever you want at the cafeteria for lunch, and every time he’s fighting the urge to yell at Crowley for not supplying you with enough funds to have a comfortable life like everyone else.
No matter what, he always wants to support you and ease your suffering however he can, you just have to tell him what you want, and he’ll do it. He may be the ‘Queen’ of Heartslabyul, but he’ll always be there to serve you.
Leona Kingscholar
At first, he probably doesn’t even know that there’s such a thing as an illness that causes you nausea, and bodily weakness, and everything else. Because he kind of grew up around royalty, he was only ever around people who received the best healthcare money could buy, and never really stopped to consider there were people like you who weren’t exactly in top shape.
He never blamed you for it, though. If anything, he was irritated at whatever created you and decided to mess up your body like that. Why shouldn’t you get to live painlessly, and be able to run free and do whatever you want without getting dizzy and nauseous? Bullshit.
Always dragged you away from PE class (and maybe other classes too) to go nap with him. He tended to unconsciously hold onto you like he was trying to protect you from the illness trying to snatch you away. Maybe if you slept by his side enough, all that stuff would fade, and maybe you could sleep peacefully enough to dream about a world where you could live without this chronic garbage. That’s what he said, anyway.
He DEFINITELY yells at Vargas when he’s picking on you, no restraint to be seen anywhere. Leona’s very protective of you like that.
When you’re out and around the school, he’s not by your side all the time (can’t come off as clingy, now, can we?) but he meets you in the halls when he can, and subtly praises you for making it through the day so far.
Sends Ruggie to get you painkillers, nausea medicine, your favorite snacks, anything. Doesn’t care how much it costs, if it’s for you.
Azul Ashengrotto
Once he becomes aware of your chronic illness (and he finds out very fast. He’s a well-informed boy), he’s dropping everything to go help or comfort you at any given moment. He’ll even leave class if he needs to.
Not that he needs much excuse to skip PE class in particular.
Will procrastinate on paperwork and Mostro Lounge duties when he can to be with you, and send Jade, Floyd, or both to accompany you when he can’t. Don’t worry, they have your best interests in mind (most of the time).
Always has medication and snacks on hand in his office, and a spot permanently reserved for you in a quiet part of the Lounge for you to retreat to whenever you needed a break, free of charge! And he always told his waiters to gift you one free drink of your choice. He’s just benevolent like that, isn’t he?
However if you need to get away from the noise, the door to his office is always open. He’d be glad to have you stay with him for a little while.
He’s also very proud of the way you constantly seem to have a glass-half-full mindset in your life, even when things can be so rough for you. It’s quite admirable, really. He wished he was able to hold onto your positivity when he was younger during his own rough days of being teased by everyone else.
If it seems at all like you’re struggling during the day, he’ll gently thread his fingers through yours and whisper encouragements like “I think you’re doing wonderful today, darling” softly into your hair. And in the evenings, if you happen to be in Azul’s room, he likes to hold you in his arms, offering complete protection from the pains and worries of the world, and gives you an opportunity to relax or even fall asleep if you wish, in as safe a place as he can give you.
He’s never been so soft and open with anyone like this before. It’s new to him, all of it, but he’s willing to do absolutely anything for you, because he’s never, in all his life, found a pearl that shines as beautifully as you, and he’s not going to wanna let you slip through his fingers. He wants to treasure you as softly and as reverently as you deserve.
Floyd Leech
Aww man, does this mean he can’t squeeze his Shrimpy as hard as he wants?
It’s fine, he understands that it’ll hurt a bit too much for you, but it still makes him sad :(
Only gentle squeezes for this Shrimpy
HOWEVER given how tall and strong he is, he could totally pick you up and carry you with ease, and he doesn’t even need an excuse to do it (maybe for the teachers he needs one. But he can just say he’s taking you to the infirmary)
He’ll fight ANYONE who even tries to give you shit for not being as physically healthy as everyone else, and you better believe those guys are not walkin’ out of that fight without a couple missing teeth or some broken bones.
After he beats the shit out of those haters though, he just grabs you like there’s not a problem in the world and carries you bridal-style through the halls and away to… somewhere else. Maybe he’ll take you to the Mostro Lounge and get you some food! As long as you give him affection in return.
You tell him about anything you need him to get from Sam’s once, and he’s got that memorized for GOOD. Always knows what you need and want after that without you ever needing to repeat yourself.
Totally down to let you sleep in his bed every night if you wanted to, he loves cuddling with you at night, it’s comforting! And it helps him sleep more solidly. Down in the Coral Sea, as a general rule, if you were alone, you were unsafe, especially if you were sleeping alone. So it’s nice to be able to hold onto you and let him feel like he’s got someone with him. He’ll always be there to protect you as well, obviously!
He’s proud of you for staying positive on your rough days, but he’s there for you to fall back on if it just gets too tiring one day. But on the regular, he’s cheering you on and telling you how awesome you are for looking at the bright side all the time. Even when he’s in a bad mood, once he notices your optimism, it lightens a bit, because seeing you so bright and happy can’t help but make him feel a little better.
Jade Leech
He’s always very attentive to your needs. There’s never a moment when he’s unprepared for anything you might desire, it’s like he’s psychic.
Like, you’re wanting to leave PE class? Before you even open your mouth, Jade’s already on his way to Vargas to inform him that sadly you will be absent for the rest of the period due to unfortunate circumstances, and he will be accompanying you to the nurse’s office shortly.
In reality, you can go wherever you want to go and do whatever you want to do once Vargas is out of sight, because Jade gives exactly no shits as long as you’re happy.
Somehow he has pain and nausea meds on him like, all the time. You don’t even need to go anywhere to get any cuz guess what, your boy Jade’s gotchu.
May or may not have you experiment with some of his mushrooms to test their healing or pain-numbing abilities (don’t you worry, he would never drug you on purpose without permission, as curious as he is. He’ll save the hallucinogenic ones for messing with Floyd and Azul.)
He’s also very good at potions as well, so he may get a bit experimental with those as well, possibly adding in a few shrooms here and there. But it’s all for your benefit— he truly does want to help you and wants to get you some relief from the chronic pains.
He’s not exactly surprised you’re able to keep a smile on your face day to day— he knows thats just how you are. However that doesn’t mean he isn’t impressed at how you continue the positivity without showing a hint of wanting to break most days. He’s impressed by how it’s not entirely a façade, that you’re truly happy most of the time.
But when you’re at your lowest, when you’re in the most pain or unusually tired, he’s always there for you to fall into his arms and forget about the world for a little bit.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s really really sad for you once he realizes that because of your illness, you can’t do anything that requires lots of moving around, like dancing as jubilantly as he can! He’d really love to dance with you, and he expresses as much with a sad, almost puppy-like face.
It sucks that you can’t really do particular things, but he’s determined to find something you CAN do that you’ll both enjoy, that doesn’t mean you have to experience any pain!
Would a carpet ride work? He wishes he could take you on a carpet ride. Hmmm.
Well, while he figures that out, he asks Jamil to maybe come up with a potion to take away some of your pain, so that he can teach you to dance!
But on most regular days, he’ll constantly tap on your arm and slip you little notes during class that say stuff like “hey r u doing ok? :)”
But it’s like. all the time. almost to the point of being annoying. He just wants to make sure that you’re doing okay enough to still be in class, and if you ever give the slightest indication it’s getting kind of bad, he’s dragging you by the arm and already on his way to the door, not even stopping before he’s saying “We’ll be right back, professor!” with a happy wave before he’s already gone with you in tow.
Makes you dizzy with how fast he’s speed-walking, and you actually have to tell him to slow down so it goes away. He didn’t mean to, though, but he’s endlessly apologizing anyway. He loves you a lot and would never do that on purpose! :(
He has Jamil whip up some Scalding Sands specialty dishes whenever it’s been a rough day for you, and makes sure it’s to your taste, whether you like spiciness or not. It’s supposed to be a comfort food after all!
Kalim’s always your number one cheerleader, and he wants to motivate you throughout the day to keep going, and is always happy to see you staying upbeat!
He’s always by your side, if that wasn’t clear. Always trying to be there to make you laugh or keep your mood up and to check in on you, and until you literally tell him to go away he’s not leaving you, he cares too much to want to leave you on your own… but if it’s solitude you need, of course he’ll respect that. He knows not to cross clear-set boundaries when it comes to you.
Jamil Viper
Not super clingy like some of the others, but he definitely gives you more attention and care than he normally would.
Cooks for you almost every day, whether its a simple lunch or an extravagant dinner he set up in his room for just the two of you. He puts a lot of thought into your taste preferences when he shares his food with you, and never forgets your reactions to anything, no matter how subtle your facial expressions are. He always remembers what you definitely seem to like, and knows how to tweak other dishes to make them even more delicious.
Despite his ever-busy schedule, he’ll make trips to Sam’s every day to get you any medication or painkillers you need. Sometimes he’ll even brew a potion for you to try and ease the pain.
If you’re tired or in pain during class and can’t focus, he’ll automatically share his notes with you and personally go over everything you might have missed later.
If you’re sleeping in his room (let’s face it, his bed is likely much more comfortable than the one in Ramshackle) he gathers all the pillows he can and makes it as comfortable as possible for you if you need support for your back or joints.
Keeps a stock of whatever you could possibly need right in his room. And if he doesn’t have it, he’s already off to get it for you.
He’s not really a very physically affectionate person, but he will massage you if you’re in pain, and rub your back or run his fingers along your scalp if you’re tired or even while you’re asleep.
It’s acts of service for him. Maybe he’s so used to serving the Asim family that it’s just become second nature, but part of him truly wants to serve you and do whatever it is you ask of him, and he wants to do things for you of his own accord as well. Just make sure to show him you love him back.
Vil Schoenheit
Always treats you like royalty. He personally goes to get you whatever you want, medicines, food, anything.
Has a night where he sits you down and just doesn’t let you move around or exert yourself, just lightly massages you with fragrant oils to release any tension you have in your body, and hopefully release some of your back and joint pain temporarily. Washes your hair with only the best stuff, gives you a facial, anything for you. Not to make you more beautiful (although its not like his treatment makes you uglier) but he does it to pamper you and show his affection through giving you attention like this, sharing his coveted beauty products and only focusing on you.
Lets you get as much beauty sleep as you need, yes, even if it’s during class. If you’re sleepy and your head starts to drop he will give a horrendous death glare to anyone who even looks like they want to disturb you. And yes, he’s usually incredibly strict about paying attention in class and excelling academically, but you’re a special case to him. He wants to spoil you.
Always is the one to volunteer to help you out of PE class (or any class) when you need to stop from exhaustion or pain. He’ll sit with you, far away from everyone else, and let you do what you want to do instead. You wanna take a break and eat? Sure. You wanna go back to the dorm for a bit and sleep? Of course. It’s whatever you want.
Vil doesn’t express the extent of his love for you through his words, rather his actions. He’d much rather show you how much he cares, instead of using words that hold no meaning without acts of love to prove it. It means more to him, and words are so limited anyway. So even if he’s not telling you every day outright that he loves you, just make sure you notice how he shows he loves you in everything he does.
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animeyanderelover · 2 years ago
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Tsukinami Brother's lovers nearly die during a punishment (poly)
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, sadism, violence, torture, s/o nearly dying, beware what you read
Darling nearly dies during a punishment
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🔮🐺It's definitely Shin's fault for punishing his s/o alone without Carla who normally stops him before he passes the critical point. He's the one who can't control himself when it comes to punishing his s/o, he's too excited and gleeful. Your screams, your tears, the scent of blood and the wounds that he inflicts on you reach his heart in delightful ways. No matter how hard you plea him to stop, sob that he's going to kill you, Shin experiences a rush right now as adrenalin pumps through his veins. He gushes over your bloody and beaten form as he grabs the next torture device, begs you with an unsettling sparkle in his eyes to continue pleading and sobbing like this. Be a good, pathetic mess for him! He's in a daze, too far gone in pleasure so initially he doesn't even notice that you've stopped moving and crying, bruised and bloody body limp.
🔮​🐺​As cruel as it is, he notices mainly because torture without your reactions isn't fun anymore. He kneels down, a light scowl on his as face as he slaps the s/o harshly on their cheeks, snapping their head to the other side as blood dribbles down. His tone gives his annoyance away as he tells them that he isn't finished just yet and they aren't forgiven. There's no further reaction from you as you instead just hang limply around, chained to the wall with blood staining the ground underneath them. His annoyance strengthens as his eyebrows furrow and he slaps them harshly again, again without any success. As he gradually comes down from his high though, he suddenly realizes something. Your breath is shallow and your own heartbeat barely functioning, he can hear how it gets weaker and weaker.
🔮​🐺​It's like he suddenly remembers that s/o is a mere human and mortal with a weak and fragile body. The realization that their life is fading away in front of his eyes hits him and he's mad and a bit panicked. His ire is for no reason directed at you in that moment, he probably even curses that you just have to be too weak to handle proper punishment for your actions and you're too adorable when you cry and beg him to stop. He's clueless what to do, tries to stop the bleeding and shakes you to hopefully wake you up, he even recalls that humans do a cardiac massage. He's wounded his darling in too many places though and is unable to stop the bleeding and as your life slips away, fear grabs him all of a sudden. He fears the wrath of his brother if you die here.
🔮​🐺​You'd wonder why in such a critical moment he feels frustrated because he knows that his brother will never let him handle a punishment alone anymore after this. Carla has warned him to keep his sadistic tendencies a bit under control, already a bit careful to even allow Shin to punish their darling alone. His brother is going to be mad anyways but if the darling dies here, Shin fears the worst for him. With no other choice he suddenly yells for Carla, prays that he's still somewhere in the building. Shin is scared to leave you alone right now, afraid that you will die from the fatal wounds if he leaves for even a few seconds. By now that is realistic.
🔮​🐺​Carla has been minding his own work so far but when he hears Shin's screams and detects actual fear and panic inside of his voice, he already expects the worst. He's down in the chamber within seconds and the overwhelming scent of blood tells him what has happened long before he even sees it. Shin hasn't listened to him. He appears as stoic and cold as ever, golden orbs quickly scanning the scene in front of him. Shin, by now completely soaked in darling's blood, frankily trying to stop all the wounds and doing a sloppy cardiac massage to keep you alive. He stops shortly when he notices Carla, his joyful expression replaced with one of actual terror and it only worsens when he sees his brother. His face doesn't give it away, but the infuriated look in Carla's eyes that would have anyone running over the hills and the aura of murderous rage gives Shin cold shivers.
🔮​🐺​When Carla tells him to go away and let him handle it, his body automatically listens as he jerks a bit away. Normally he's one to get under everyone's skin a bit but he knows when to take something seriously in regards of his brother. If he doesn't listen right now and says anything, his brother will hurt him severely in a way even someone like him won't be able to stand. Carla is quick to work, forces his dwelling panic down as your condition is critical even though his anger against Shin for disobeying only worsens when he sees how far his young brother has gone. Too far. Simultanously he can't suppress a bit of guilt since he should have known that his maniac of a brother wouldn't be able to punish you alone. If he would have been here, nothing like this would have happened.
🔮​🐺​When darling's heartbeat actually stops and the room turns completely silent, the shock and cold shot of fear resonates somewhere deep inside with those two. Shin, not able to control himself, ends up shouting at his brother to do something. Carla's reaction is instant as Shin is hit with a magic blow that sends him flying against the wall of the chamber, Carla hissing out a silently for him to shut his trap, icy rage inside of his tone. He pours his magic into darling's frail body, eyes constantly checking your face for any reactions. Shin thinks that he sees slight signs of stress from Carla's side as the First Blood King uses more magic than he normally does in his life, maybe even in a bit of a frantic way.
🔮​🐺​When your heartbeat starts beating again and you choke out your first few breaths after a period of being dead, Carla instantly lifts you up in his arms and carries you with fast steps up in his room. He doesn't even spare Shin a single glance, not until Shin actually calls out to him with a uncertain tone, unsure how to feel right now. He instantly shuts his mouth when Carla throws him a single glance that tells his emotions right now better than words ever could. He leaves his younger brother down in the chambers to reflect on his behavior, spends the next few hours in his room. He bathes you and cleans you from all the blood, uses ointments to avoid a possible infection before he bandages everything and leaves you in the bed in his room.
🔮​🐺​S/o wakes up a few days later and everything hurts as soon as they open their eyes. They briefly wonder where they are before the torture chamber and Shin's insane looks flashes before their eyes and they quickly sit up, fear automatically forcing their body into a flight response. It's less than a second before the immense pain washes over them and they can't help but let a little cry of pain out. That's when Carla, who has been previously sitting in a chair in his room and has worked a bit, walks over and presses them back down on the mattress. He's more gentle in order not to hurt you, tells you to just continue to lie down since your wounds are far from healed right now. When he senses your fear, he reassures you that he is here to take care of you until you've fully healed.
🔮​🐺​You can't muster the strength to ask what has happened down there, your quivering eyes speak for themselves though so Carla answers your silent question. He tells you that you have nothing to worry for now and that he hasn't let Shin anywhere near you since you've been in this room. The only person inside here has been him since he's been the one watching over you. The sudden thought that this man has been touching your body whilst bathing you, changing your clothes and bandaging you has you recoiling in shame and disgust but you quickly regret the shiver of disdain when you notice his sharp gaze on yours. He's noticed what was going through your head just now and the look in his eyes darkens as he looms over you and grabs your chin in a bruising grip. Tells you coldly that you should adore him for dedicating his time into catering to your basic needs and taking care of you whilst you were in such a pathetic state. Without him you would be dead right now.
🔮​🐺​You apologize, start to shake as tears spill out again and you fear that you'll be punished again. Instead Carla lets go after a while even if you're sure that you'll still have a bruise. An annoyed sigh escapes his lips as he notices that the whole commotion has opened a wound of yours again and you're left with no other choice but to let him handle it again. You flinch whenever his skin brushes against yours but force yourself to lay still when he threatens you that he'll tie you up so you stop squirming since you'll only reopen all of the older wounds. He tells you afterwards that you shouldn't move much at all since your wounds need time to heal and that you should just rest.
🔮​🐺​Carla is the only one around darling for the following weeks as he declares them bedridden, is extreme strict with this as well. He's as cold and hard to read as ever, threatens you to be thankful whenever you show signs of spunky behavior and tells you he'll chain you to the bed if he ever catches you moving around too much. Yet deep down you can't deny that you prefer him over his brother. He's cruel and sadistic but you know that he has a limit and is more reasonable than his complete psychopath of a brother. Carla goes easier on you right now since he knows in what condition your body currently is. He is gentle when he changes bandages or bathes you since you've gone through enough punishment for now. Whilst he doesn't spoil you, he caters to your basic needs and is sometimes even lenient enough to bring you a prefered meal of yours.
🔮​🐺​You're still scared out of your mind but can't help the feeling of slight safety and gratitude that appears at one point. You're showing him more signs of sincere gratitude and Carla takes notice and is pleased with that development. You don't see Shin at all and honestly. you're glad about that. You don't think that you could handle seeing him since he's the one who nearly killed you whilst being lost in sadistic pleasure, Carla is for now the better option and somehow you enjoy the more gentle treatment. You'd never want to go through such a nightmarish experience again though, no matter how good the Tsukinami brothers would treat you afterwards.
🔮​🐺​You're unaware of the magic surrounding the room you're staying in that prevents Shin from entering and seeing you. You're unaware of the talk Carla had with Shin after being sure that you were in a stable condition. Shin has been forbidden to punish you ever again since he's nearly killed you because of his own foolishness. Shin's initial protests were quickly shot down by Carla who is the more skilled talker as he puts him extremely down for the fact that he would have ended your life if it wouldn't have been for his older brother, doesn't deserve to see you. At one point Shin can only bite his tongue and listen with clenched fists. As much as he denies it, deep down he knows that his brother is right and that causes his mood to worsen terribly, he lashes out as soon as Carla has left him. He knows that you're in good hands right now and that makes it all even worse.
🔮​🐺​He could try to sneak in despite the spell but is pretty sure that he has infuriated Carla currently so much that his older brother might start an actual fight with him if he disobeys. Normally that would be fun but right now he feels actually a bit guilty and knows that his brother is superior when it comes to mending a broken thing like you. Shin is already bruised from the magic that threw him into the wall back then though Carla didn't take care of his wounds so he's left limping around for a couple of days even with his regenerative abilities. Carla's magic was laced with the intent to hurt him for a longer period of time though so his older brother has got what he wanted. Both of them sort of ignore each other for a while, especially Carla since he holds a grudge against Shin for not listening and nearly taking your life.
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tofumedic · 3 years ago
Note
Hi! I really love your writing!! ^_^ I wasn't sure if you were accepting requests for headcanons for all the brothers so I'd love to see this for all seven brothers but if that's too much, just Mammon and Belphie is fine. Could I pls request a headcanon for how the brothers would react to accidentally hurting MC? Nothing fatal and nothing permanent beyond just maybe a scar but also more than a minor injury.
Brothers reaction to accidentally hurting MC!
(this is gn! mc like usual and thank you dear i hope you like this sorry it took so long but its such a good prompt i wish i could have done it better!!!!!)
Lucifer
You and him have gotten into misunderstanding that have lead to threats before but once you are closer, to the point when he trusts you, if one of these "fights" happen, the smallest indication of hurt being inflicted makes him pause.
If it's during a moment where he's heated, wings starting to stand out behind him, his first reaction is just pause. Stuck.
He actually physically hurt you, not even to account the probable emotional hurt of him raising his voice with such aggression.
He's all stiff, eyes widened, unsure if he should reach out for you or not so he stays until the manifestation of his demon form fades.
Mammon
A terrible offense as your first man, he's always count on me, let me be the one to save you and yet has personally made you in need of saving.
Though any hurt isn't to be seen after the initial small ouch he talking in a loud voice, telling you, fragile human of his, not to worry!
Mammon does worry not about the physical as much with small injuries but how they make you feel, do you still feel safe? Do you need to him to go sit with you in your room? An ice pack just to soothe your head maybe?
He's at your beck and call free of charge, lucky you even though it did have a price equivalent to a stubbed toe.
He does his best to distract you from any discomfort though he does remember to apologize when his voice calms and lowers volume, him muttering the apology into your shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.
Leviathan
Self loathing meter is breaking high scores, and has started an internal match between "i need to leave" and "i should take care of them"
He's uncomfortable, shifting his weight and stumbling over his own feet as he moves them. Dependant on how close you are would be the change of his reaction.
If you aren't both there already at the scene of his not even a crime, he will decide on both by taking you with him to his room.
It's not before privacy before Levi would his TSL blanket draped over his arms to wrap over you too, arms looped to your middle.
That was overwhelming for a shut in like him! Hey- what do you mean it's just like when he hits his knee on the underside of his gaming desk just that he did it to you? Now he's embarrassed and realizing how he just clinged to you.
Satan
His guilt at hearing you exclaim in feeling a small bit of pain is immeasurable and immediate.
Any progress you had with him being more comfortable with touch has been put on pause and maybe even further back than step one.
It makes him worry for what if it was worse, he couldn't do that to you when you were so important, his strength could have easily made it worse you shouldn't be so calm.
It takes him a bit to calm down, even having to ask one of his brothers to look at your injury too scared to touch it and make it worse.
His apologies are overwhelming in quality but always genuine, with his full being. Remind him that if he can't trust himself to trust you because you trust him.
Asmodeus
Asmo may be one of the more calm ones in this aspect, yet his apologies and concern are still extremely sincere.
A quick mutter to himself before going to gently grab or look at the area of his harm, cooing sorries followed by pet names, kisses every centimeter of the injury and around to try and distract you from any after pain.
He has some bandages if you need them and is quite good at applying them, whether bandaids from shaving nics or a wrap from sprained ankles from heels.
If you are bleeding or the injury makes you tear up that does call some small panic, shakes settling into his calm still hands as he tries his best to soothe and assist.
Beelzebub
He feels that same drop in his heart and heavy pang bodywide that he did with Lilith and Belphegor, another he was supposed to protect that he hurt. How would he make it up to You?
Beel would give you comfort, his sorries and are you okays quiet but extremely weighing on the atmosphere he carried. He wants to make sure you will be okay.
His appetite goes down, but will make you food he knows are easy favorites or comfort foods, staying nearby if you need him to grab something or just for company.
He's quieter than usual and will try to apologize for a time period and a half longer than would be considered normal but it has a history of hitting him hard.
When you or Belphie aren't there to keep him company while he sleeps his old nightmares come back but you get added to people he couldn't save.
He returns back to normal when you press small kisses to the spot he hurt but on him, an old human tale about how it makes pain go away since he seemed to be sharing yours.
Belphegor
Guilty, guilty, guilty. Pausing in panic, stepping away from you with shakes starting to curse at his shoulders, before going to leave.
He promised he was going to make it up to you, that you were safe and that he changed, he shouldn't still have been so mad as he used to be.
He hates that you let him off so easy just because it's a small injury, he keeps breaking your trust you shouldn't be so forgiving because what if you stop and then he has no more chances and finally messes up for good?
Belphie's anxieties for hurting you are very tied to if you bleed at all, the more you do with any injury in general the more he will worry he can't lose you.
His initial panic is calmed by needing you to be okay, pressing every square inch of himself together to be stable enough so he can help you and not worry Beel into making it worse.
But he will be visibly more careful at least for a day or two, on edge of how his body digs into yours when napping or if he's too close that he could push you.
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euphoricsunflowers · 4 years ago
Text
calling you daddy — monsta x
scenario: they ask about your kinks and you ask them to call you daddy
a/n: this is written with a fem reader in mind but is not strictly fem reader as no pronouns or anything is mentioned.
a/n: was this a request? nope tbh this was written for myself bc i’m sick and tired of seeing people call these men daddy so uh pls enjoy
word count: 2k
content: sub!monsta x, dom!reader, daddy kink obviously ajshdhs, minhyuk is kinda bratty? kinda??, lots of teasing and begging, mentions of consent and stuff
son hyunwoo/shownu:
he falls silent. he doesn’t know what to say in the slightest. he worries that he might hurt your feelings or say something out of line, but it just stuns him, “you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable with that, bear. your consent is just as important,” you say.
but see that’s half of what’s stunning him. he’s not exactly uncomfortable with that. shownu’s nature is pleasing you, he doesn’t mind filling any role or position for you, this was just a little more intense than that.
“you know what? just forget we had this conversation. i don’t want you to feel pressured, and it’s not a big deal, okay?” you say.
but the idea lingers in his head whether or not you want it to. as the days go by, his mind wanders, and while it may not exactly be what he’d be into, he’s not against doing it for you.
as you manhandle him a little bit, he says it softly, “ah, daddy-,” it’s even more embarrassing than he imagined, and his cheeks and ears are flushed and hot, but when he says it, softly under his breath, just whispering it out to test the waters, he sees your shock and then your small little smirk.
“now that i know what it sounds like to hear you say that, and what that does to me,” you say, sneaking your hands under his shirt and letting them wander, playing with his chest a bit, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to say that if you wanna make it out of this bedroom spotless and in one piece.”
he blushes even more, a little shy and hesitant, but he likes having this kind of effect on you, so that may not be the last time he says it. besides, who says he cares if he makes it out in one piece? and spotless? his neck and chest and thighs were too clean anyway.
lee hoseok/wonho:
it was in the middle of you riding him, his wrists bound above his head with a rope that made his skin look so pretty against it. he’s already cum once, but you’re not stopping until you do, and he’s trying to keep himself together. your hands roughly playing with his chest is overstimulating and he’s overwhelmed. he pleads for mercy aimlessly, almost thoughtlessly.
but then, “if you’re gonna beg, call me daddy,” you murmur. he’s not even sure he hears you right when you say it. he looks at you with wide eyes, and he assumed he did because of the way you act. he knows he could stop you at any time because you’re very clear on consent and it’s not like this was completely out of left field considering how you’re already always in charge in the bedroom. he was just stunned.
and while he’s a little bit stunned, he also won’t deny that it is a little bit hot.
so he does, “please, daddy, it’s so much- i- i can’t handle it.”
he sees your smile, with just a drop of sadism behind the curl of your lip, “just a little more, baby, i’m close. you make daddy feel so good,” he gets so excited by the praise that he attempts to stick it out, forever still the man that just wants to make you happy and please you.
he forgets about himself and his own body for a moment when he feels your body tense up around him and you hold onto his chest as you orgasm, using him to get the most out of it before you slow down to a halt.
your heavy breathes and sweet nothings whispered in his ear are heavenly.
lee minhyuk:
“really? you’re into that? i honestly thought it would be the other way around.”
taken aback, you ask, “really? what gave you that impression?”
“idk, you don’t have this aura of dominance, so i didn’t really assume that was your thing.”
“is that- is that okay with you?”
he gets closer, teasing in the way he wants to make you shy, “you seem pretty bashful for someone who just asked to be called daddy in the bedroom.”
“minhyuk-,”
he rolls his eyes, obviously trying to get a rise out of you, “come on, i don’t even know if you have it in you.”
and something about his careless, taunting tone sets something off inside you, like he was challenging you. but it’s a challenge you take on when you approach him. your touch is softer, lighter than he imagined. he thought you would be lit aflame with a need to prove yourself to him. but you lean in to press a kiss on his neck and your wandering hands settle on his hips.
you’re gentle with him initially, yet he melts a little bit when one hand tightens and another begins to unbutton his shirt, giving your mouth access to his chest.
you push him onto the couch, straddling him and using a hand to hold both of his arms above his head, when you pull back, he looks dazed and needy, all those teasing smirks having faded off his features, “why are you so affected? i thought i didn’t even have it in me,” you say with a smirk this time.
he breathes heavily, “y/n- please-”
“oh please, that’s not my name anymore, min.”
yoo kihyun:
“you want me to what?!” his voice is randomly high pitched, loud, almost like he’s nervous or scared.
despite that anxious feeling you’re feeling too, you try to stay calm, “i understand if you’re uncomfortable by it, but you asked about my kinks, kihyun.”
“yeah i know- i just- i wasn’t expecting that- really? you’re not messing with me? that’s really what you want?” he looks exasperated.
“yes. i really want you to call me daddy.”
he goes silent, trying to comprehend in his head what the hell was going on and what he was going to do and why the more he thinks about it, the less vehemently against it he becomes. and he had spent the entire relationship making it clear that he cared about what you wanted (because he does) and it’s not like… he hates the idea of it, but it’s just so out there to him that he can’t even fathom or imagine it.
he asks for a few days just to think about it, and though the awkwardness lingers in the air, by the fourth day, it seems like you had mostly forgotten about it or at least it didn’t seem to be on your mind. he spends those days really thinking, trying to imagine what it would be like, why you would even want that.
but the next time you’re together alone, your hands and lips are on him and he experimentally says it, “daddy, please.”
the whiny, begging voice, coupled with the word, leave you stunned. you pull back with wide eyes, and he felt so embarrassed and shameful with your eyes on him like that, but then you pulled him back into you and kissed him with a certain kind of feverish desperation that made his knees weak.
chae hyungwon:
his reaction is oddly pretty calm. he asked about what you were into, and you told him. maybe he was expect something a little different, but to be honest, he knew you liked to be in control, and he usually just went along with it. he didn’t mind it especially because you always made sure you both felt good and that was all that matters. that and he kinda likes being told what to do.
so it doesn’t exactly surprise him, especially when you add, “but only in a sexual context! i don’t need you to say it all the time.”
“good because there’s no way in hell i’m calling you daddy in front of my friends,” he can see the thoughts behind your eyes wanting to take up that challenge, but he decides to ignore it, “as far as they’re concerned, i’m daddy.”
“sure, wonnie. sure,” you say dismissively, before looking back at him, “are you actually okay with it though? i know it’s… weird.”
“it wasn’t what i was expecting, but if that’s what you want, then i’ll do it.”
and as soon as you’ve got him under you, with kisses and marks trailing down his neck and chest, leaving him helplessly turned on and horny, he says it so naturally, you wonder if he even thought to do it. but whether or not he’s doing this solely for you, or because he might have found it a little hot, is between him and himself, “ahh, daddy, please- be gentle with me- i have a photoshoot in the morning- oh my god that feels so good please daddy don’t stop-”
lee jooheon:
he likes the idea of it when you mention it, he just gets kinda shy, “do you- do you really want me to call you that?”
you come closer, holding his hand and rubbing your thumb against it in a comforting manner, “yeah, i really like the idea of it. if you’re not completely against it, i’d be really happy if we could try it.”
“it’s not… the worst thing you could have told me you were into,” he laughs as your hand starts to massage his thigh instead, “we can try it. i'll tell you if we need to stop, but i think it’ll be okay.”
“good, i’m glad you’re reacting this way, honey,” you murmur as you kiss him, and he smiles, which, even if it makes the kiss a little awkward, is really cute, “sweetheart,” you whisper as you pull away, “can you say it? i just wanna hear you say it.”
your hands wander his skin nervously, he can tell you’re worried about him being uncomfortable, “ahh, d-daddy, please touch me more,” he whines, and he’s never been more compelling before, but somehow the use of that word really makes you want to give in and give him anything he wants, “please touch me.”
your hand falls a little lower upon his request, and he groans lightly, pulling you a little closer, “you’re perfect, baby, so pretty.”
“ahh, please,” he huffs, clearly growing shy with the praise, but it’s obvious he really likes it, so you touch him more and whisper sweet words into his ear with a kiss, “oh- oh my- daddy- please i-”
“you’re so cute, sweetie pie, especially when you’re feeling good, you look so pretty and content. it’s my favorite sight,” you say adoringly, looking at him with the biggest heart eyes.
“wow, i didn’t expect to like this this much but-“ he whispers, “-i kinda love it.”
im changkyun/i.m:
he doesn’t react much when you say it, making you wonder if he was uncomfortable or not into it, but in any case, you assume it’s going to be forgotten in a few days and there would be nothing to worry about.
until he’s trying to get you to play with him and you’re trying to work. he can’t deny that he gets horny easily and you’re right there! he tries to tease in an way he can think possible, but to no avail. you’re still just sitting there, typing away on your laptop.
“just another thirty minutes, and then im all yours, baby,” you murmur to him, and he pouts subconsciously out of frustration.
he gets an idea, and i’m sure you know what it is.
“alright, you’re busy and i respect that. i guess i’ll just leave you be and go play by myself, daddy,” he giggles when you look over at him for the first time in this encounter and then he walks away.
as he sits on the bed in your bedroom, he awaits the sound of your footsteps, knowing he’s won. the door opens, and you walk in too casually, enough to make him suspicious, until he’s pulled onto your lap with your lips on his shoulder. your hands sneak under his hoodie, and his hands brace himself on your shoulders for stability, “ah- y/n-”
“baby, i did not set aside my work that’s due tomorrow morning to come fuck your brains out just for you to call me that,” he shivers, so incredibly turned on, “try again.”
taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @multidreams-and-desires @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @domreaderrecs @mochi-ficz and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3
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elysianslove · 4 years ago
Text
in between you; gojō satoru, kuroo tetsurō
requested by anon; ❝ initially i was thinking that the reader is w satoru and they’re out together on a mission or vacation? they tryna have some fun together, and even possibly include a third party just this one time cause they’re feeling esp freaky, adventurous, but still wanna keep this experience private~~👁 👄 👁 they see tetsu (aged up plss! i mean technically he already is now, right? o:) & have this instinctive feeling that he’s the perfect choice for whatever reason hahaha 😂 but honestly tho, take it as you want it! i would just be ecstatic to see these two in one story for the first time<3 ❞
pairings; gojō satoru x reader x kuroo tetsurō
genre; smut
warnings; threesome, double penetration (vaginal and anal), oral (fem!receiving) under the cut
note; this took me over 5 hours, and i haven’t entirely proofread this 3.5k+ worth of filth so i’m sorry for any mistakes! i hope everyone enjoys <3
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━ the air in brazil is considerably more humid than tokyo, and it’s evident in the way your clothes stick to your skin, despite the general lack thereof. still, you don’t falter for a moment as you walk through the crowd, fingers linked with your lover’s as you lead the way. you’re not entirely sure where you’re headed, or what your exact destination is, but instead of filling you with nerves, it lights your nerves with excitement. it could be the humid, or the alcohol you’d downed not too long ago, or simply the unfamiliarity of the area and language, but time seems to move slow, you with it. the people around you are a blur of tan skin and colorful clothing and bright, ecstatic smiles, and it feels like the only two people that exist in this very moment are you, and your lover.
and him.
you’re breathless for a reason you’re unable to pinpoint at when you pull satoru aside, fisting at the shirt he dons, pushing your body flush against his. you lift yourself up slightly, the height difference between the two of you significant, before you murmur, “i want him.”
it’s not an off-putting statement to hear from you, at least not after your discussion prior a few weeks ago. after agreeing that inviting a third person into your bedroom, even if just for one night, would be an interesting addition, the conversation had faded away, and your private life was left in fate’s hands. it had only been when your lover had surprised you with a plane ticket and a long since needed vacation had the conversation arisen again, and ever since two nights ago, you’d wandered the streets in search of the perfect candidate.
“hm,” satoru hums amusingly, a teasing smile on his lips as he thumbs at your jaw gently. he looks over the man twice. he’s tall, possibly as tall as satoru, with dark hair a complete contrast to satoru’s own white wisps of strands. he wears simple clothing, yet it remains as fashionable as ever with the stance he takes, the smirk he wears on his lips, the confident aura that surrounds him as he thanks a vendor for a shot, downing it straight. he’s the exact image of a man he’d assumed you’d choose. “you sure, doll?”
you nod firmly, your gaze fixated on the dark haired man. satoru’s eyes have returned to you; he’s not sure why you’re as certain as you are, but he’s never been one capable of ever saying no to you, so he turns you around, arm thrown over your shoulders, and walks the two of you towards the man.
it’s almost as if he had been expecting you. empty shot glass disregarded, he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his hair, shaking them out, inviting smile never faltering. subconsciously, satoru’s arm slips off your shoulders, hand falling to grasp at your waist as you almost tip over, clumsy and heavy with desire, nearly falling into the man’s arms. small fingers grip at his shirt lightly, teasingly, and with wide, pleading eyes, you say, “come home with us tonight.”
one of the man’s large hands crawl up to rest above your palm, and he meets satoru’s eyes from behind you. they seem to speak to one another through simple, barely noticeable expressions, their eyes talking up a novel. until the dark haired man tightens his hand around yours while lifting the other to cup gently at your chin, before he leans down closer to you, whispering, “call me tetsurō, pretty girl.”
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you kiss him before satoru  manages to shut the hotel door behind you. permission and consent fully granted from your lover, you pull yourself closer to the man, hands gripping helplessly at the collar of his shirt, pressing your lips harder against his. daringly, your mouth falls open, tongue easily slipping out and into his own mouth, twisting your tongue with his. you continue to kiss him open mouthed, your hands snaking up roughly from his collar, up to the nape of his neck, to his roughed up hair. naturally, it had seemed tousled, and you can’t help but picture the way it would be when you finally get to play with him.
from behind you, satoru’s arms wrap around your middle, hands groping at whatever skin is revealed from your clothing, sinking beneath your shirt. his hot mouth is upon your neck immediately, his teeth biting and his tongue licking and his mouth sucking as he paints a pretty bruise on your skin. he can feel your pulse burn alive beneath his abusing mouth, but it only encourages him, his hands traveling higher to grope at your breasts.
the slowness of the pace infuriates you, and you whimper against testurō’s mouth, pulling back breathlessly to lean into your lover’s arms. you lift one arm to run it through his hair, tugging lightly just the way you’ve learnt he likes it as he continues to taint your skin, while you drag your other free hand down tetsurō’s chest, thumbing at the buttons of his shirt impatiently.
lips leave your neck suddenly, satoru’s hands tightening around your breasts as he encourages directly by your ear, “use your big girl words, doll.” tetsurō watches with amusement as you shiver at his words, his fingers already working at unbuttoning his shirt.
with a hitch in your breath, you reply, “i want to fuck you both, please— please want to be stuffed full, please!”
at your words, tetsurō’s eyes widen slightly, an eyebrow raised in cheerful shock. “you’re gonna be a fun one, aren’t you?” he wonders out loud, finally freeing himself of his shirt, grabbing at it and pulling it off his shoulders. the movement of his arms flexes his muscles even more, and you’re sure he’s showing off properly, but you decide you can’t entirely blame him, not with the body he hides beneath. he’s toned, muscular and big and strong and so perfect.
it’s a blur as the three of you rush to rid yourself of your clothes, tetsurō being the first to finish, quick to sprawl on the king bed in the middle of the room. his cock stands shamelessly hard against his stomach as he leans up on his elbows, watching as satoru easily lifts you on his shoulders, his own cock twitching as you squeal loudly, before he tosses you on the bed.
“mmm,” tetsurō approvingly hums, “pretty tits. bet your pussy’s pretty too.” he’s leaning on one elbow now, hovering by your side as his fingers ghost over your chest and between your breasts, dancing around your nipples teasingly, leaving an array of goosebumps in their wake.
satoru’s hands are on your thighs, slowing spreading them open, crawling lower till his face hovers by your cunt. your chest is heaving with anticipation as you stare at him between your legs, as he leans his face forward slightly to lick a stripe at your folds, up to your clit, before he latches his mouth around it. his head tilts as he sucks harder, reveling in the way your hands scramble to cover your face in embarrassment, breathless, desperate cries leaving your lips repeatedly. tetsurō’s mouth occupies itself with one of your nipples, his technique eerily similar to the way satoru sucks and licks at your clit.
“come on, doll,” satoru urges between licking and sucking at your folds. “let him see you. you know you have the most gorgeous face when you cum.”
to reinforce his statement, pulls your clit between his teeth, rolling it softly. your back arches, pushing your hips harsher against his mouth, your eyes completely shut even as your hands fly to his hair. tetsurō’s fingers graze your lower abdomen, but you barely have half a mind to register this with your breasts bruised and your nipples sore and aching, that when his fingers dip past satoru’s mouth on your clit to find your entrance, you let out a choked scream, fingers tightening impossibly in satoru’s hair.
“you gonna show me how pretty you look cumming?” tetsurō praises, his other hand twisting in your hair and pulling slightly, urging you to open your eyes. they snap open, meeting his momentarily, before they fall onto satoru’s hungry ones. fuck, the feel of them both, the sight of them both, it’s dizzyingly overwhelming, that your high hits you within seconds, beginning at your core before traveling all across your body, leaving you a trembling and sobbing mess as your eyes roll back. “yeah, that’s it,” tetsurō encourages as satoru moans around your clit, both his mouth and tetsurō’s fingers milking you of everything that you have to offer. “cum all my fingers and your boyfriend’s mouth. such a good girl, making a mess of us.”
mercifully, at the feel of your attempt to shut your legs, satoru lifts himself up from between your legs, grinning up at you the way he always does, his lips a complete mess. and just like always, you reach over to cup his face, pulling him in for a kiss. against your lips, muffled slightly by the way you greedily kiss at him, he says, “tasted so good, baby.” you kiss him harder, losing yourself within the familiar taste and feel of him, your hand mindlessly reaching out for tetsurō, resting upon the nape of his neck and pulling him towards you. you unlatch your mouth from satoru’s, urging tetsurō closer until his lips are on yours.
from the position you lay in, you can barely feel the graze of satoru’s cock against your sensitive clit, the tip nudging the bundle of nerves unintentionally. it reminds you of what you really want, what you truly desire, forcing you to pull back, either hand resting on either man’s cheek, eyes honest as you look between them and say, “can i please have your cocks now?”
in true fashion of your lover, he laughs lightly, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw. “since you asked so nicely,” he replies.
“how do you want us, beautiful?” tetsurō asks, both him and satoru allowing you space to sit up.
“however way you want me,” you tell him, and unable to hide it, he visibly sucks in a sharp breath at your words.
satoru hums amusingly at his reaction, hand resting on tetsurō’s shoulder and pushing him back onto the bed, before he turns to you, leaning his body closer to you. one arm encloses you within him, his other hand cupping at your jaw, thumb at your lips. “i want you to ride him. will you do that for me, baby?” he asks, but the way the question is stated has tetsurō guessing the older man had already known the answer prior, and his theory’s proven when you nod eagerly, no second thoughts given. his cock hardens impossibly at the sight of you almost cowering in front of satoru, staring up at him with faux innocence and unbelievable desire. “can i fuck your ass too, pretty girl?” satoru continues, smiling proudly when you nod again.
with just as much enthusiasm, you crawl over to tetsurō, lifting one leg to straddle him properly. at the sight of your glistening thighs and drenched cunt spread above him, tetsurō curses lowly, hand flying to fist at his cock slowly, twisting his wrist at the head, smearing his precum all over. after a few seconds of fumbling from his left, a condom lands on his chest, and a bottle of lube falls to his side on the mattress beneath him.
as he picks up the plastic, eyeing the lube, he quirks an eyebrow at the couple before him, smirking with the package between his teeth, ripping it apart. when he tosses the plastic wrapping away, he wonders with a teasing voice, “you two planned this?”  
satoru’s eyes lock with his, with his lips on your throat again, kissing along the bruises he’d painted upon your skin. “you planning on fucking her before she regrets her decision?” satoru taunts, hands returning to twist at your aching nipples while tetsurō rolls the condom onto his cock.
“so impatient,” tetsurō tuts, smearing some lube on his cock as his hand reaches out for your thigh, resting there while you lean up on your knees.
he lines himself up at your entrance, tip teasing between your folds momentarily, before he hears you let out a pained sigh, a whiny, dragged out, “tetsu.” his fist tightens at the base of his cock and he steadies it, watching with mesmerization as you sink slowly onto it, his cock disappearing into you inch by inch, your cunt stretching to accommodate him. tetsurō knows he’s big, and has multiple partners in which they’ve done nothing but stroke at his ego with the way they struggle to take him all in. but despite the way your hips stutter ever so slightly, the way your body’s impossibly tense, the way your cunt is spasming around him, the way your eyes screw shut, even as satoru’s guiding hands remain on your waist — you don’t falter. you continue to take him in, easing him into you, your cunt sucking him in until he’s completely bottomed out, until you sit all pretty and perfect on his lap, stretched out and full of his cock.
“good girl,” satoru praises from behind you, and tetsurō’s thankful he’s said it, because the way you’re feeling around him, he doubts he can conjure up proper words. “such a good girl. took him so well, baby, m’so proud of you.”
you whine, tossing your head back on your lover’s shoulder, hands grabbing at his large ones at your waist. tetsurō’s hands are still on your thighs, squeezing and caressing the flesh soothingly and encouragingly. he wants to praise you, but satoru’s said it all.
“ready for me?” satoru asks, smiling proudly when you nod and your head falls forward, your body slowly with it. you lean down, curling in on tetsurō, and he gratefully accepts you in his arms.
you rest your head on his chest, his cock shifting slightly inside of you at your movement, while his arms move to wrap around you, watching over your shoulders as satoru’s fingers, wet and glossy with lube, meet your other hole. he feels you flinch, tightening and clenching around his cock instinctively, and he’s quick to shush you as he sees satoru’s finger slowly sink in. “you wanna be good for him too, don’t you?” tetsurō gently coerces, cooing as you nod in his hold, mumbling incoherently.
as tetsurō’s cock twitches desperately inside of you, satoru continues to finger your ass, adding a second finger, then a third, once he feels content enough to. with your ass gradually stretching around satoru’s fingers, tetsurō, mindlessly, begins to roll his hips, shallowly thrusting into you. the languid pleasure of satoru’s fingers and tetsurō’s teasing strokes have your hands tightening into fists, your lower lip tucked between your teeth as you swallow your moans. you don’t speak up when you feel ready enough for satoru’s cock, knowing that he knows you even better than you do yourself, aware that he’s capable of understanding your body and its reactions better, completely giving into him, until finally, his fingers slip out of you with a loud squelch, the tip of his cock replacing them before you could mourn the loss.
slowly, his cock wet and cold from the lube he’d poured, he eases himself inside of you, a guttural groan slipping out from his lips as your ass clenches around him. he hisses at the sensation, hand resting on your lower back kindly. “relax, doll,” he soothes you.
tetsurō’s own large hands move to grip your ass, spreading it more for satoru, and using it as leverage to start thrusting up properly into you. you lift yourself slightly, moving your hands to rest by tetsurō’s head as satoru bottoms out inside of you, your body shifting slightly along tetsurō’s as he fucks up into you. at the feel of both cocks stuffing you, you cry out, your stomach feeling heavy with the overwhelming pleasure, your mouth falling to hang open in an endless, helpless sob as they both start to fuck you at a desperate pace.
“fuck, fuck,” tetsurō chants from beneath you, panting with every slap of skin against skin. “fuck, you feel amazing. can feel your cunt gushing ‘round me, shit.” with every push of satoru’s thrusts, your hard nipples drag along tetsurō’s chest, heightening your sensitivity. you choke at his words, hands fisting at the sheets by his head. 
tetsurō’s thrusts are precise, harsh and diligent, fucking into you with fervor and want, sharply and shallowly. you never are properly rid of his cock from inside of you, each drag more earth shattering than the last. satoru’s thrusts, although they match tetsurō’s pace almost eerily, are teasing and taunting, feeding into your desire for him, forcing you to become more and more desperate, forcing you to rock back your hips searching for more.
“wanna cum, wanna cum, wanna cum,” you beg, arms weakening, your head falling into the crook of tetsurō’s neck as you let them use your body. “please, wanna cum,” you wail against his skin, pleading at either one of them. satoru’s hands grip at your hips, grip bruising, careful blue eyes watching as you tilt your head on tetsurō’s chest, body rocking in time with each of their movements as you say, “please, satoru. please, baby.”
his breath stops at his throat, and he snaps your hips flush against his shockingly hard, looking over at tetsurō momentarily. then, simultaneously, voices scarily similar and deep, they instruct, “cum for us, pretty thing.”
and obey you do.
your body convulses impossibly, your screams scratching at your throat, echoing around the hotel room. your holes clench around their cocks, immediately sending them over the edge as your insides spasm uncontrollably, milking them of their cum. with a low shout, and a ‘fuck,’ tetsurō spills into the condom, while satoru fills you up, and you’re left a sticky mess.
and just as you feel satoru’s fluttering touch to your lower back, the world dims around you, and you succumb to it gratefully.
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when you awaken next, you’re both clean and dry, dressed in a loose shirt that’s easily identifiable as satoru’s. with the deep ache that’s settled in your bones and muscles, and the tiredness that’s completely overtaken you, you make no move to leave the comfort of the warm bed. your eyes are shutting steadily, your body sinking deeper into the mattress, before you feel a presence before you by the edge of the bed, before you hear said presence kneel by you, reach out to brush away at your hair, before poking at your nose jokingly. you scrunch it up, eyes falling open once more. at the sight of your grinning partner, you can’t help but smile back, fists tightening in the blanket that surrounds you.
satoru looks up momentarily, nodding at a figure by his side and confirming, “yeah, she’s awake.”
not wanting to be completely clueless, you urge yourself to move, sitting up on the bed and stretching your arms up as you finally identify the figure that had been standing by satoru’s side, and you’re immediately taken back by hours — hours? — earlier, and the position you’d been in with him. “oh, hey,” you say a little awkwardly.
tetsurō laughs lightly, hands settled into the pockets of his trousers. “oh hey,” he mimics you jokingly. “i wanted to wait to leave after i said goodbye. and thank you for the great night.”
you scoff teasingly, replying, “or you just wanted free hotel food.”
he shrugs. “not denying nor affirming,” he says, and you chuckle, shuffling along the bed to allow space for satoru to sit by you. “but thank you; it really was great.”
satoru leans by you, hand resting behind you, shoulder brushing against yours. “no worries,” he says brightly, adding, “take care, yeah?”
tetsurō only nods with a smile, waving at you, before he walks himself to the door, leaving you finally alone with your lover. satoru leans into you, resting his chin on your shoulder, tilting his head slightly to glance at you. you lift up a hand in response, slightly ruffling his hair, and whispering a low, “thank you,” before placing a soft kiss to his forehead.
he breathes out softly, smiling a little tiredly at you. “always love making you happy,” he reassures, leaning more into you to kiss your cheek. despite the low grumbling of your stomach— no doubt had you worked up an appetite— you let him push you back, let him wrap his arms around you, let him nuzzle into you. and despite how you’d just been with another man, as you fall back into a deep sleep, the only one that graces your dreams is satoru gojō.
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sofreddie · 4 years ago
Text
Scent From Above 3
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Summary: Quarantine strikes and the wait to see each other grows.
Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Fan!Reader
ABO BINGO: Heat/Rut Toys
Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Quarantine AU ?, Heat, Smut (Mutual Masterbation, Use of sex toys), Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 1,242
A/N: So I was looking at the story and my @spnabobingo squares and 'Quarantine' - NOT a square - actually gave me a really good catalyst to tie different prompts together. So that's how that happened! This smut was a little different for me because I feel like it's kink-ier than anything I've written.
Part 2
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It had been a long month of phone calls and video chat between Y/N and Jensen. They hadn't managed to coordinate seeing each other after their initial weekend. Now it seemed the wait to see one another would be even longer. The whole world was on global lockdown for quarantine.
"This sucks," she whined at her laptop, Jensen's face filling the screen for their latest video call, "I was really hoping you'd be able to help me through my heat again," she admitted, wincing at the cramps that had been growing in intensity since that morning, "I miss you."
"I miss you too, 'Mega," he whined in response, "Your shirt has lost its smell," he pouted, showing her the cloth dangling in his hand.
"Yours too," she admitted, looking at the said shirt that was draped over the pillow beside her in bed. She winced once more, a hiss slipping past her lips as she failed to hide the pain from her now very worried Alpha. It took her a while to catch up, but she finally caught on that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was serious about her, about them.
If she had let him claim her, they could be together right now.
"How bad is it, Baby?" his worry grew as he noticed the physical toll her heat was taking.
"It's not great," she admitted, "But it's not too bad. I have toys to help me."
There was a long silence between them before Jensen sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and released it with a pop.
"Toys, huh?"
The boyish and charming Jensen faded away as her Alpha came to the front. His eyes darkened and she could practically see the thoughts processing in his mind.
"Mmmhmm," she hummed, biting her lip and blushing hard.
"Show me."
His tone had her shivering and she nodded as she went to retrieve the small box from under her bed. She sat on the bed, the unopened box in front of her and looked to Jensen hesitantly.
"No, Omega," he shook his head, his Alpha tone coming forth to command her attention, "Show me."
She felt nervous yet empowered over the reaction he was having and she wasn't even touching him. She nodded once more, before removing all of her clothes and getting comfortable on the bed. She laid the toys out beside her within easy reach.
She positioned the laptop on the bed so they could see each other and leave her the use of her hands.
"So beautiful 'Mega," Jensen breathed out as his eyes looked over her body hungrily. He was disappointed to see all his love bites and marks had faded to nothing in their time apart. He forced back the choked whine in his throat and forced himself to focus on her.
"Alpha," she moaned, running her hands over her body teasingly. She had shown him her small collection of toys. She had a regular vibrating dildo, a special knotting dildo, and a vibrating wand. They had served her well in her past heats.
"Spread your pussy for me, Baby. Let me see how wet you are."
She reached down with one hand and spread her lower lips open, exposing herself completely to him.
"Use your other hand and rub your clit," he guided her, his eyes locked in fascination and need. She keened as she touched her clit, the nub swollen and aching. Jensen licked his lips, desperate for a taste.
Catching it, she decided to tease him, gathering a little slick on her finger before bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean. Jensen's eyes followed her every movement. He growled when she sucked her finger, hastily undoing his jeans to get at his rapidly swelling cock.
"Fuck, Jay," she whined hungrily as her eyes settled on his exposed cock. His hand wrapped around the thick shaft, sliding up and down. She rubbed her clit in time with his slow strokes, feeling the fire and desperation build within her.
"Use the wand," he huffed, watching as she turned it on and brought it to her folds. She gasped as the vibrations coursed through her. He continued guiding her until the wand was on its highest setting, driving her right up to the edge and over.
Jensen squeezed the base of his dick, not wanting to come yet. He wasn't done with her.
"Now the dildo," he groaned as she came down from her high, "The one with the k-knot," he stuttered, watching as she switched out the toys and spread her lips once more.
She was glistening with slick, a bit dripping out of her hole and down the crack of her ass. Jensen wanted so badly to lick up the path, gather the slick on his tongue.
"Feels so good, Alpha," she moaned, lost in the bliss and forgetting her bashfulness. She slid the toy inside herself to the base, Jensen letting a soft curse at seeing her stuffed and stretched around it.
"Yeah, that's right," Jensen began stroking his cock once more as she thrusted the toy in and out of herself, "Fuck yourself, Omega. Imagine its my dick in you," he huffed, stroking in time with her thrusts, speeding up at she did, and realizing she was skillfully guiding this whole endeavor.
"Gonna come, Alpha," she whined in desperation, "Come with me," she pleaded.
"Wanna fucking knot you," he growled through clenched teeth, feeling his knot starting to expand. Jensen quickly tore his belt from the loops and and bit down on it, his urge to claim overwhelming him once more.
It had never been a thing with anyone ever before.
He was pretty sure it'd always be there with her.
He clutched his knot with his other hand, watching as she hit the button to set off the inflatable knot on the toy. She wailed as her climax crashed into her. He called out her name as he came, his knot popping and quickly deflating with nothing to lock onto.
Once they calmed, and the urges subsided, they cleaned up. Y/N dressed in clean panties and a tank top, too warm from her heat to want much else.
"When this is all over," Jensen said, gesturing vaguely to the world around them, "I'm coming straight to you," he swore, "I want to claim you, Y/N. I want you with me. Especially now that everything seems like it's going crazy…"
"I know," she admitted, "I've been stuck at home alone. No people. I don't even own a pet," she huffed a laugh, "Though Fred and I are making fast friends," she added with a chuckle.
Jensen felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. Who the fuck was Fred?
"Who?" he managed to ask in a calm, yet clearly confused tone.
"Oh! My succulent," she smiled, showing him the potted plant, "Only other living thing around here besides me."
Jensen appeared to melt as he visibly relaxed and Y/N laughed harder. He shook his head and huffed a laugh.
"This sucks."
"It really does," she easily agreed.
"Soon," he promised, "Someway, somehow." She yawned and he chuckled. Her heat was hard on her and after that orgasm, he was pretty sure she was tired. He could use a little sleep too if he were being honest.
"Soon," she acknowledged, blowing him a kiss before ending the call and settling in for some much needed rest.
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PART 4
Forevers:
@sis-tafics
@lyarr24
@calaofnoldor
@hobby27
@spnbaby-67
@fangirlxwritesx67
RPF:
@smoothdogsgirl
JENSEN TAGS:
@akshi8278
@jerkbitchidjitassbutt
@slamminmine
@deanjensenficsandart
@woodworthti666
@charred-angelwings
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Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)
The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme. 
genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe) words: 3.8k
a/n: i got so carried away with this and i don’t even know if Atsumu is in character or not so please be gentle. chapter 2 coming tomorrow 🤗
taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa
Chapter One
All you want to do is shower in peace. It’s the reason why you wait until the dead of night to avoid any unwanted visitors. You don’t let yourself admit that another reason you wait until the entire floor is asleep is that you live in the building that has a co-ed bathroom. Why anyone decided that was a good idea is beyond you. Throwing a bunch of horny, drunk college kids in the same bathroom seems like a disaster to you, but that’s not really your problem.
Thank goodness they had the sense to put two doors in front of each of the showers. One complete door with a lock leading to a small space to dress and hang your towels before a much flimsier shower curtain. If it had just been the curtain you might’ve resorted to taking showers in one of your friend’s buildings that is not co-ed.
Though about five minutes into your shower in the silent bathroom, you hear the curtain of the stall next to you slide open and the shower turn on. Without thinking, you blurt, “Do you have to choose the one directly next to me?”
Atsumu jolts at your voice, forgetting he can’t just assume the other person in the bathroom is a guy. Muffled by his shirt being pulled over his head he retorts, “This one gets the hottest.” Honestly, he wasn’t expecting anyone else to be in here at this hour.
You nearly drop your shampoo at his voice, hyper-fixating on the fact that you’re practically standing naked directly next to this guy, the only thing separating you being the shower wall and the lock on the outer door. It’s just a few weeks into the semester and up until now you haven’t had a problem with someone showering right next to you, most people deciding to leave a stall between you, both of you doing your best to ignore the other. And definitely not speaking to each other.
Though, you suppose you were the one to speak first here when you could’ve kept your mouth shut and pretended like it didn’t bother you.
“Can’t you go one night without burning your skin off?” You say, knowing full well the stall next to you is like water from hell.
Atsumu can’t help smirking despite that you can’t see him. “Nope, already naked.” Something clatters on the other side of the wall and he stifles his laugh that you must’ve dropped something.
Snatching your dropped body wash, you angrily scrub yourself clean and decidedly do not think about the person next to you.
Thankfully, neither of you speak a word to the other for the remainder of your shower.
Though your stomach drops when you both turn the water off at the exact same moment.
“Please tell me you didn’t do that on purpose,” you groan, hurriedly grabbing your towel to wrap your cold body.
“Okay,” he says with a shrug. “I didn’t.” He knows that doesn’t sound very believable, but he’s pretty sure no matter what he said you wouldn’t accept it.
Scrubbing at your hair you try to keep your voice level. “I’m not leaving until you do.”
“Now it sounds like yer tryin’ to get a look at me.”
You ball your fists, resisting the urge to just storm out of the bathroom. Like an idiot, you’d assumed nobody would shower at this hour and all you have with you is your towel. Normally you bring a change of clothes with you, but of course the one night you don’t, you have a shower buddy.
The brooding silence emanating from your stall is enough for him to let out a small laugh, then conceding, “Alright, alright—I’m gone.”
“Thank you,” you breathe, feeling your growing anxiety about this entire situation melt away. At that, you hear his door unlock and the soft padding of his feet walking away. On his way out, he takes one last glance at the final stall where you’re still waiting, then blows a wet strand of his hair out of his face and heads out.
You wait a few minutes after his footsteps have faded then peek your head out of the stall to a blissfully empty bathroom. Letting out a deep sigh, you hold your towel tightly to your chest and scurry back to your dorm room knowing you’re going to go to sleep tonight thinking about the strange boy you met in the shower.
Hopefully you never have to deal with that again.
~
Of course, you’re very wrong. Not even a week later, you enter the bathroom only to ram directly into someone exiting. And this person is shirtless, their lean muscular frame on display for anyone to ogle at, a towel slung around his hips in just the right way that makes your heart pound without permission.
He catches you so you and all your bathroom supplies don’t tumble to the floor and you reflexively steady yourself with your palms on his chest before you realize what you’re doing. He smirks down at you, eyes glinting mischievously and drawling, “Ya know, I think you might’a done that on purpose.”
Immediately, your heart stutters to a halt in your chest recognizing that lilting, teasing voice. Pushing yourself off his chest and slipping into the bathroom behind him you snap, “You wish.”
Atsumu’s eyes widen, connecting the dots. Though the expression is transient, quickly settling back into a smirk that you think is even more irritating than before. “Takin’ a shower at this hour again, you sure yer not looking for me?”
You frown. “I take showers this late to avoid people!” Then you turn on your heel, done with this conversation and step into your favorite stall (which Atsumu astutely notices is the same one as last time). You take a quick and admittedly angry shower, doing a poor job of trying to forget your newfound annoyance.
Something about him is familiar. And you can’t put your finger on it. Not until you get back to your dorm room and your roommate is practically bouncing off the walls. You stare at her confusedly and she exclaims, “Did you see Miya Atsumu on your way to the bathroom? Oh my god—please tell me you did. He was wearing a towel and that’s it!” She squeals and tips back into her bed hugging a pillow tightly.
You don’t know why, but your initial reaction to realizing your shower nuisance is Miya Atsumu, is to laugh out loud. Your roommate gives you a startled expression until you say, “Yeah—yeah I saw him.” While she blabbers about how “insanely hot” he is, you shake your head at yourself. Miya Atsumu, the setter for the university’s volleyball team that lives on your floor and that your roommate is an avid fan of. He also has quite the gaggle of girls that are in love with him. Thankfully, your roommate isn’t so infatuated with him that she’s a member of the fan club but judging from her demeanor right now she’s well on her way there. You huff, admitting that yes—by looks alone he’s a head turner but you can’t imagine that personality being a winner amongst the club. Or maybe that’s his charm, you don’t know.
Though, after attending a volleyball game a week later, you’re certain his fan club is based on his looks alone. You have to keep yourself from snorting when he’s about to serve and raises his fist to silence the crowd, everyone complying except a few fan girls who cheer for him as he serves. Afterwards, he shouts at them from the court, telling them to ‘keep yer traps shut!’. They listen for the rest of the game and surprisingly, are no less in love with him then they were before.
What you find even more impressive than his ability to silence an entire crowd, though it pains you to admit, is that he’s good at volleyball. Really good. And your roommate seems to be the Atsumu fact machine as she tells you that he’s on Japan’s radar to play professionally and is here on a sports scholarship. She tells you she wouldn’t be surprised if he has to stop playing for the university in order to start playing professionally.
“How come you know so much about him?” You ask offhandedly, chin resting in your hand as your eyes are trained on the court below. You forced her to sit with you near the back of the stands in hopes he won’t see you because if you ever run in to him again in the bathroom you’re sure he’ll never let you hear the end of it.
She flushes at that, toying with a strand of her hair and mumbling, “Um, I went to Inarizaki High where he went and uh—kinda had a huge crush on his brother. He has a twin.”
You lift your brows at that information. No wonder she’s squealing over Atsumu, who probably looks exactly like his brother. You decide to prod a bit further asking, “So was the fan club just for Atsumu back then too?”
Now she laughs. “Nope, it was the Miya twin fan club. Terrifying really. Imagine that,” she nods her head towards the group at the front of the stands, “But double.”
“Fun.”
You haven’t told her about your run-ins with Atsumu in the bathroom yet. And part of you wonders if now would be a good time. You’d been holding off in fear that she was secretly in love with him or something, but now that you know it’s very much the opposite, you really want to tell her. As you open your mouth, the whistle blows calling the game, and you’re overwhelmed by the need to leave before the team lines up to thank the spectators in fear the Atsumu will recognize you. It’ll have to wait until later you suppose.
~
The second you hear someone enter the stall beside you, without even seeing him, you know it’s Atsumu. And for a few blessed moments, you’re led to believe he’s going to keep his mouth shut for the duration of his shower.
When Atsumu entered the bathroom, upon seeing that the last stall on the left was occupied at this hour, he could be pretty certain it was you. And who was he if he didn’t take the chance to push your buttons a little bit? You make it so easy for him, it’s hard to resist. Your hopes are crushed when you hear him say, “Enjoy the game last week?”
This time, you fumble with your shampoo not because he startled you but because of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you were expecting.
“My roommate wanted to go,” you say, glad he can’t see you and your flustered expression. It’s the truth, and you’re definitely not going to admit you were a little curious yourself.
“Oh, did she?” He asks, brows raised as he lathers his hair with soap.
Judging by his tone, he doesn’t believe you. So, some part of you decides to dig your hole even deeper without realizing it, trying to explain, “She went to your high school, so she wanted to see you play again.”
You foolishly thought that would take the suspicion off of you. However, it does the opposite. Now he’s even more interested. “And what did she tell you about me, hm?”
You freeze, scrambling for something that doesn’t make you sound like he’s been on your mind. Though you convince yourself he’s only on your mind because he’s annoying and you try to avoid him every time you take a shower nowadays. “She told me your school was really good and that you have a twin brother.”
He frowns momentarily, unsure how Osamu somehow weaseled his way into this conversation when you’ve never even met him. Instead of letting that piece of rivalry he’ll carry with him forever show, he prods a little further, hoping to get a ruse out of you before you inevitably storm out of the bathroom and he has to wait until your next unplanned meeting to talk to you more. “And what’d ya think? How good am I?”
You laugh, shutting him down immediately. “I don’t know a damn thing about volleyball.”
Though you don’t think you really have to know much about volleyball to see he’s good. That notion backed up by the information your roommate gave you that he’s here on a sports scholarship and is being scouted by professional teams. But you keep your mouth shut, unwilling to boost his ego any further.
Turning the shower off, you step out and start drying yourself off. Not entirely sure why, but you continue the conversation much to Atsumu’s surprise. “I liked watching though, it was fun,” you say quietly, pulling your pajama’s on, regretting saying anything at all instantly and wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
A grin rises to his lips, but before he can get another word in, he hears the door of your stall unlocking and the telltale sound of your footsteps walking away. Scrubbing at his hair, he can’t help wondering what this strange little relationship growing between the two of you is.
~
At this point, you’re beginning to think he’s doing it on purpose. You can’t imagine anyone else wanting to shower this late unless it is solely to come bother you like he seems intent on doing.
“What are you just waiting around for me now?” You groan at the sound of the bathroom door opening, not even waiting for him to enter the stall beside you, already certain you know exactly who it is.
He scoffs, “No, practice went late and I’m tired and sweaty. Maybe I think yer the one waitin’ around for me.”
“Gross.”
“That’s what the shower’s for, sweetheart.”  
“Let’s agree not to talk, shall we?” You huff, intent on ignoring him this time.
“Watch it, I might start to think you like me or somethin’,” He teases, but he’s only met with silence. He lets it go, too tired to care much or carry on a conversation anyways. After washing his hair, he grabs his body wash and realizes to his dismay that it’s completely empty. He can barely get a lather out of it. He stands there for a few minutes debating if he should bother you again, eventually deciding to hell with it.
Out of the blue, he says, “I’m out of body wash.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
He ponders that for a minute, truly not sure what he expects you to do about it. “Can I borrow some?”
“You’re going to smell like a girl,” you laugh, actively shoving down the small voice saying: ‘and he’ll smell like you’.
Without thinking, he replies, “Well, maybe someone will think I’m fucking one then.”
The silence that yawns between the two of you is deafening as you try and wrap your head around what he’s just said. He balls his fists, mentally yelling at himself for letting something like that slip.
“You’re not?”
“Is that hope I hear?” He teases, shifting the conversation back to more comfortable territory.
You groan. “Please.” Then step out of the shower and reach under your door to slide your body wash under his door.
“Smells nice.”
“Shut up.”
He puts forth a valiant effort to not think about you while the pleasant scent fills his shower, forcing his thoughts towards volleyball. Different drills. The new play he learned today at practice. How the ball feels in his palm when he spikes it. Anything but you and this damn body wash that smells like you that he’s lathering across his chest at the moment.
In the end, it’s a pretty futile effort.
And maybe he goes to bed thinking about how he smells like you and he…likes it.
~
Unable to get a hold of his emotions, he refuses to go back to his dorm where he’ll be subjected to the same treatment from his roommate. After all, his roommate is on the volleyball team too. So, the only place he can think of to go to cool off is the bathroom. He haphazardly shoves the door open, the thought that someone else might be in here at this hour—namely you—is drowned out by the rage clouding his vision.
Retrospectively, that was a mistake. Honestly, shouldn’t he know by now?
Regardless, he storms in, yelling “Fuck!” his hands curling into his hair in frustration. Lately, the team has been relentless in their jabs that he can never get a real girlfriend, even with a whole group of them clambering over each other for his attention. And he only made the jabs worse today by somehow pissing off his fucking fan club making the entire team adamant he can never have a serious girlfriend. Not with how much of an ‘asshole’ he is.
He groans, tugging at his blonde strands, regretting everything that came after that. He’d done a stupid thing. A really stupid thing. He’d told them he does have a girlfriend.
And he very much does not.
Atsumu scares the shit out of you, barreling into the bathroom, roaring at the top his lungs in frustration. You were at the tail end of your shower, pulling on your pajamas and at the sound of his voice you banged your head on the towel hook with how fast it whipped up.
Furious, you rip open the stall door shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
His head jerks up, landing on you standing there in your pajamas, caught off guard that someone else is in here and of course it’s you. Of all the people to see him like this, you are the absolute last he wants to see. You both stand there staring at each other for a moment before he composes himself, letting an easy smirk cross his features and shoving his anger far enough down that he’s able to reply, “Practice was shit today. Nothin’ to worry yer little heart about.”
His stomach twists into knots as your expression doesn’t change, clearly not believing him. You can’t explain it, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes that makes you think he’s lying. And it’s enough for you to press further, doing your best to ignore the fact that you might actually care.
Shoulders drooping, his smile fades and he grimaces, not wanting to admit to you his mistake. But you just stand there, arms crossed, expecting him to give you a real answer and eventually he cracks.
“I did something stupid.”
“Tell me why I’m not surprised,” you deadpan, but continue to stare at him expectantly.
“You could at least pretend to be surprised.”
You’re relentless. “Spit it out Atsumu.”
He blinks, unsure if you’ve ever actually addressed him by his name before. But the thought is fleeting as the embarrassment of what he’s about to admit to you overwhelms him. Knowing you, you’re just going to laugh in face. And what’s the point? He’ll just be solidifying what he’s sure you already think about him.
After a moment, he tells you anyways. “My teammates think I’m too much of an asshole to have a girlfriend.”
He watches your expression morph into confusion. “I don’t see the problem here.”
Gritting his teeth and gripping the edge of the sink, he can’t even bear to look at you. He feels so fucking ridiculous. Why do you even care? Your only interactions with him thus far have been laced with annoyance, why have you now suddenly decided to take interest in his life when you so clearly don’t like him?
“I told them I have one.”
He tries not to groan when you reply, “I’m still not following.”
Does he need to spell it out for you? “I don’t have one,” he manages to choke out, a lot quieter and more pathetic than he’d like.
If this had been the first time meeting him, you might’ve laughed. Hell—you still kind of want to laugh. But seeing him like this is so jarring, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. It’s clear this is something that bothers him deeper than he’s admitting. And a couple weeks ago, you would’ve never thought you’d be standing in a deserted bathroom with Miya Atsumu discussing the failures of his dating life.
“Why don’t you just ask one of the girls dying for your attention?” You ask, feeling a little grimy about the suggestion.
He seems to feel the same. “I don’t…it doesn’t feel right. They’d think it’s real.”
You keep it to yourself that despite what his teammates have said, that is a very non-asshole-ish thing to do.
He keeps staring at you, gears turning his head. Asking someone in his fan club feels wrong to him…but asking someone to fake it seems like a better option. And who better than the person standing in front of him right now? But you can see exactly what he’s thinking, beating him to it and crossing your arms saying pointedly, “No.”
“Aww come on! Why not?”
“Don’t you think that isn’t fair to me?”
He ponders this a moment. “What—you got yer eyes set on someone else or somethin’?”
“N—no! I just,” you splutter.
He has to hook you, otherwise he’s thoroughly fucked. The thought of enduring the brunt of his teammates teasing for who knows how long if he shows up tomorrow empty handed is enough to make him offer, “I promise to stop taking showers at night!”
Your brows lift, turning the idea over in your head. The prospect of taking quiet, uninterrupted showers is too good to pass up. And it isn’t the end of the world to pretend to date him for a few weeks. What could possibly go wrong?
So, with that, the deal is sealed. You and Atsumu are officially fake dating and your story is not far from the truth. You met in the bathroom a couple times and hit it off, it’s believable enough. Your roommate might be a bit chuffed you kept it from her, but she’ll get over it. Probably the second you divulge her in any insider information about Atsumu she’ll forget you were hiding him from her.
He tells you to meet him at the gym tomorrow afternoon. “Wear somethin’ cute!” He shouts at you as you exit the bathroom.
Over your shoulder, you give him a look that unexpectedly makes his heart stutter in his chest as you cheekily say, “Shouldn’t my boyfriend think I look cute in anything?” Then you disappear around the corner and he has to shove the thought that you do look cute in your pajamas to the back of his head.
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wh6res · 4 years ago
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taeyong — part of the my bloody valentine collection.
prompt. when your soulmate gets a wound or cut, flowers bloom on the same spot in your body.
synopsis. you’re desperate to meet your soulmate. maybe you can put a stop to the flowers stubbornly blooming on your wrists.
warnings. tread cautiously. mentions of mental illness (depression, attempted suicide), swearing, manipulation, implied self-harm, dubious content, forced relationship, unconsensual touching near the end, ty pulling the sadboi agenda
disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.
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by the time you’re graduating high school, you’re used to the sorry glances people sent your way. 
for someone so young, you have more flowers blooming on your skin than any adult. a few small pieces of it blooming in the corner of your cheek, near the jawline. a few of them on your thighs. 
but the most concerning piece is the one on your wrists that are fully covered by the flowers, your skin nowhere to be seen with all the lilies of the valley tainting your skin. 
yet the worse has got to be the summer before senior year. you had been halfway done with the college entrance examination for a local university. your parents said the pain you felt the first time will turn into a mild itch whenever the flowers form on your skin. 
it started small, absentmindedly scratching at something on your neck. initially, you thought it was the heat, your sweat, and the fabric of your clothes irritating the sensitive skin. but when you walked up to the proctor to turn in your exam, you knew that apologetic stare like nothing else—but his eyes had flickered down to your neck. 
when your friends blew up your phone, asking where you are to celebrate, you lied and headed straight back home, head ducked, collars upturned, hiding the lilies of the valley wrapped around your throat like some insignia. 
a year later, you end up studying soulmate theory in university. they say it’s a useless course as there can be no scientific explanation to soulmates. you like thinking you chose the course because of sheer interest but really, you’re just finding an explanation, some external reason that probably bore no results but you trudged forward anyway. 
you’re restless in the pursuit of finding him—or her, you couldn’t care less. the hurt you feel weighs heavy in your heart each time you feel them blooming on your wrist, mind plagued with worry. 
your roommate interrupts your deep thinking as she practically throws herself onto your bed. “i have an idea!” she cheers, determined. “why not part-time in the school clinic? that way if people come in, you can compare their cuts to your flowers.”
“now, you just might be onto something there.”
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the hunt for your soulmate still wasn’t easy despite working in the university’s clinic and it only got worse each day. your schedule is killing you, you’re slightly getting behind in some subjects, and you practically live in the library. 
contrary to popular opinions, soulmate theory can be a fucking bitch to study about. what with learning psychology, astrology, and botany all together. it was interesting how all these things can be factors in how people are paired to become soulmates. interesting, but rather complicated in a sense, too. 
they say psychology and astrology dealt with two people’s compatibility. while botany, the meanings of the flowers themselves, was theorized to predict how the soulmate connection will affect their relationship—ultimately, roses were a really, really good sign. 
you have been busy messing up your hair, utterly frustrated and irate—astronomy’s messing with your head and you can’t go a minute without scratching your wrists as the flowers bloomed after the other. 
then something unexpected happened. 
a lanky guy dressed in an all-black ensemble walked into the clinic. well, it was more of a being carried between two guys by the arms rather than walked in. everything about his clothes looked way too big to fit his delicate frame and it hardly looked like it was for fashion style purposes. his skin hugged his body to the bone, eyes sunken, and he looked so frail that a tiny shove would’ve sent him sprawled on the floor. 
his name was taeyong and he lied on the bed unconscious, with handkerchiefs wrapped around his wrists like bandages—courtesy of his friends, who looked deathly worried for the fate of their poor friend. if he had lost any more blood, he would’ve died. you had never seen the clinic in such chaos, people running around, anxious. your leg muscles were sore from going back and forth from the nurse’s side to the cabinets storing all the medical supplies she needed. 
it had been a whirlwind, and after your superior had patched and properly bandaged his cuts, you were left to look after him in the meantime as nurse jung tried contacting his guardian. 
his friends—who you learned were named yuta and jaehyun, were snoozing outside on the bench across the hall, parallel with the clinic’s double-glass door, as they waited for their friend to wake up. 
depression. suicidal. taeyong has been like that for his whole life, jaehyun stated earlier. you can only shoot a sorry look at the unconscious boy lying on the hospital bed. 
it had already been dark outside when you came in to switch out his bandages for new ones—only to realize that his cut is exactly where you had been scratching earlier before he showed up. 
you retracted, unbelieving of what that possibly entails. along the way, you’ve pieced together that your soulmate is probably struggling through something heavy, something that weighed him down so much that it made him believe hurting himself is the only solution, what with all the flowers on your skin. 
“it’s him…” you mumble, wide eyed as you eyed the faded scars around his wrists, eerily aligned to the flowers blooming on your own. 
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you didn’t want to overwhelm him, that much was sure. you didn’t want to chase him away if he gets uncomfortable. so for weeks you started leaving anonymous notes in his locker. not the sappy love letter types, just little words of encouragement that could make his day better. 
when their friend breaks out into the tiniest of smiles, yuta and jaehyun’s thankful eyes would scour around the halls. sneakily looking for you behind taeyong’s back. they understood where you’re coming from and hadn’t spoken a word of disagreement when you told them you didn’t plan to make yourself known as his soulmate yet. 
and as if the notes were not enough, you start giving him his favorite starbucks drink every now and then—on days the flowers didn’t bloom as much as it normally would. you turn up half an hour early before lectures so you can place it on the table where he usually sits with his two best friends. even if his class is on the other side of campus, you’d still go. 
but it only took three weeks of creeping around until you’re caught by your soulmate himself. 
“do you want something from me?”
you didn’t know what to say, cat got your tongue as you stood before him holding the drink. you couldn’t weasel your way out and say the drink’s yours, not when he caught you standing before his usual seat, not when you were already leaning forward to place it on his desk.
“uhm… i…” you stutter pathetically, not being able to meet the intensity of his eyes. 
“jaehyun and yuta aren’t exactly the most lowkey, especially with how much their eyes wander when i open my locker. so, do you want something from me? what are you playing at, stalker?”
the name he called you stung like a bitch but you can’t blame him for it. you knew him, he doesn’t know you. you’re giving him gifts anonymously. even if they were all from the goodness of your heart, from an outsider’s view, your actions still appeared sketchy.
“soulmate,” you correct him. 
you watch his features twist into confusion, only for it to morph into shock once he’s digested what you just said. eventually, he schools his expression back to indifference. his stoic face is so intimidating, you thought, biting your bottom lip and fidgeting on your toes. 
“what?”
“i’m your—i’m your soulmate.”
his eyes flicker downwards to peak a glance at the bouquet of flowers painted on your skin. colors as beautiful and vibrant as the day you got them, the stems of the bell-shaped flowers intricately woven into each other. for a split second, you even twist your arms a little, showing him the rock hard proof of your claim. 
ever since you found him, you’ve always contemplated for the better part of your limited free time about what his reaction will be when he finds out you two are soulmates. will he accept you? or worse case scenario, pretend you didn’t exist? the possibilities are unknown especially with someone who seems to be going through so much that the last thing they wanted is this person who thinks they’re entitled to be part of their lives because the universe made it be that way. 
not that you feel entitled… taeyong can reject you all he wants and you’ll give him the space he needs—
he’s crying. 
and not the simple, small tears slowly streaming down his face one by one type of crying, no, his tears were an onslaught. full-on sobbing as he threw himself onto you, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, words heavily muffled by your coat. 
“is it—” he hiccups. “true?”
you blink, from all the reactions you’ve gone through in your head, crying was the very last thing you expected from him—crying and hugging you like you’re the last person on earth and he’s been touch-starved until he found you. 
maybe that was the case. 
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you wonder what jaehyun and yuta felt whenever taeyong ditched them to spend time with you—and that was pretty much all the time since he’s found you. he’s like a puppy, following you around wherever you go (unless he has classes) and had been neglecting his friends. whether it was intentional or not, whether his two friends were cool with it or not, you don’t know. 
you try your best to smile every time he runs up to you on the other end of the hall, spotting you coming out of your own respective classroom after lectures are done. 
he’s beaming like a child, inviting you to this cafe he wants to take you to—and pathetic ‘lil ‘ol you just can’t seem to say no to those huge expecting eyes.
but you’re not blind to the slight scowl on yuta’s face nor the razor sharp smile on jaehyun’s features. they want to hang out together, just boys, but now there’s this soulmate who’s suddenly more important than them—what happened to bros before hoes?
but they knew taeyong needed you. heck, he never once smiled like the way he did before he met you. it was like he’s become this whole new person with a child-like innocence reflecting his eyes. 
“so?” your soulmate prompts just as his two friends came over, flanking him. 
taeyong deflates the moment he sees the hesitance in your eyes. “uhm… i actually have a shift in the clinic, and nurse jung said the clinic isn’t some hang out place, so you can’t, uhh…” you trail, not wanting to finish the sentence. 
a little white lie can’t hurt anyone, right? 
taeyong shouldn’t depend on you all the time, not when he also has friends who care about his well-being and mental health just as much as you do. being soulmates didn’t mean he has to spend every waking moment with you and the faster he realizes, the better. 
when you dashed away before he could even mutter out a reply, you miss the frown on his face, his eyes never once leaving your frame until you turned the corner. 
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people often favor the underdog. they have this gnawing urge in their gut to sympathize and unknowingly root for their own plot twist or happy ending. 
people look at you and your soulmate and think you have poor, suicidal and depressed and sad taeyong eating at the palm of your hand, following you around like a lonely duckling—the undeniable underdog in a coming-of-age movie, the person shoved around until some bigger, more capable person comes to their rescue (in this case you, unfortunately).
but appearances have always been deceiving. 
your little 3-week head start with getting to know your soulmate had only been on surface-level. you just wanted to help him but taeyong’s obvious attraction—can you even call it that? you’d like to think it’s more of infatuation—is off-putting for you. from standing way too close to putting an arm around you, from walking you to your lectures to walking you home, from the light headpats to having the guts to kiss your cheeks. 
it’s too much and it wasn’t as if you basked in the public display of affection. whenever you tried telling him off in the most gentlest of ways, taeyong would frown and curl in on himself, eyes glossy, darting around, and looking like a kicked puppy. 
you couldn’t leave him like that just because of some harmless skinship, right? he’s just excited and happy he’s found you. weren’t you also the first one to initiate? with all those notes and gifts you’ve given him? and now you’re backing away just because of a few touches?
“you know,” your roommate plops herself on the couch next to you, netflix movie playing as background. “you’re not obligated to fix him. you’re his soulmate, not his psychiatrist.”
you sigh, head diving into the couch pillows. “i’m not trying to fix him, i’m just…”
she raises a prodding eyebrow. 
“…i’m just trying to be there for him.”
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taeyong likes to think that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. but the sense of rush and sick pleasure running up and down his spine whenever you force a smile and give in to his wishes proves otherwise. 
all his life he’s been pushed around. tasked to buy his old man beer and cigarettes and an assortment of drugs. if he turns up empty handed, guess who becomes a punching bag? and he has always been alienated throughout his school life. immature elementary kids aren’t exactly the kindest and would’ve picked on every single thing to appear cool to their friend groups. and poor little scrawny taeyong who didn’t speak and didn’t defend himself was just too easy of a target. 
“uhm… you don’t—don’t need to walk me home all the time.” do you think so low of him that you believe he doesn’t sense your fake little giggle?
“but i like walking you home,” he pouts, jutting his lips just a wee bit more for extra measure. he makes sure his eyes are as round and glossy as can be, he noticed those puppy eyes are what gets to you the most. 
he can tell by your tense shoulders, the clear hesitance in your face, that smile that looked too sweet to be real, and your averting eyes. you needn’t say anything for taeyong to figure you out. he isn’t blind to the lack of comfort you’ve developed by being with him. 
he has to think of something or else you’ll be slipping through the gaps of his fingers.
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he asked you out on valentine’s day. it wasn’t the simple, forgettable act of popping out the “hey, do you want to go out on a date with me?” question while holding a bouquet of flowers. taeyong made sure you’ll never forget this certain day that he had laid his claim on you—not that it needed to be vocalized, it was his wounds that made flowers bloom on your skin. the soulmate connection should be enough.
but taeyong wanted to go the extra mile.
with the help of his friends (yuta’s popular and jaehyun can be very persuasive), he’s got people handing you lilies of the valley every ten feet until you reach the auditorium in the main building. despite it blooming on your skin you’ve never really seen them in the flesh. they’re like dew drops, bell-like flowers growing in an elegant dip from it’s main stem and appearing no bigger than your thumb.
you were awed, but skeptical.
you meet taeyong by the end of your little journey, standing on a decorated stage with a bouquet of the flowers nestled delicately in his hands. the natural sunlight bleeding through the open windows giving him such a beautiful glow that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he had smiled and timidly gave you the flowers while asking.
“will you be my girlfriend?” 
if only you’d look close enough, that sugar coated smile contrasted greatly to the sly flickers in his eyes. he knows how your actions are dictated by the reputation you’ve built. taeyong knows you'll say yes, because if you didn't, how could you have rejected your own soulmate who has made you the light of his life? he’s been nothing but kind to you and you’ve only pushed him away! you’re a monster! you should’ve saved him!
if him alone can’t make you say yes, maybe the pressure-induced stare of the whole student body can.
and as you shivered amidst taeyong’s suffocating hug, feeling the triumphant smirk against your head and his prodding nose as he sniffed your hair, you now understood why your body bloomed this specific woodland flower. 
lilies of the valley are beautiful.
but lilies of the valley are poisonous, too.
the flowers remind you of taeyong. 
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making things official has only made things worse. taeyong has promised you that after being together he won’t try hurting himself anymore and that he’s a big boy and he can attend his therapy sessions alone. but the itching in your skin is as constant as ever and you just got off the phone with the receptionist of the clinic he goes to. 
“are things alright? i haven’t seen taeyong since three weeks ago.”
if there’s one thing you absolutely hate doing with your soulmate, it’s confrontations. for the three months you’ve been together, taeyong has always, always spiraled out whenever you confront him about something. be it the mildest or the most superficial thing, what started out small will turn into a complete whirlwind and he’d be in a fit of tears by the end of it.
every single time. 
you prefer happy taeyong than sad taeyong—if you can avoid it for as long as you can, you will. but you’re at your breaking point. him lying to you about his therapy sessions is the pin that popped the little balloon of security you’ve been protecting. 
when you arrive home, he’s already there, crouched and sifting through your bookshelf. it wasn’t a surprise or anything out of the ordinary, he possesses the key to invite himself into your apartment any time. “hey, you’re home!” he immediately stands, barreling towards you. 
he encircles his arms around you protectively as he pulls you flush against his body. you feel the tip of his nose prodding against your neck, hearing him inhaling your scent like cannabis. 
you learned to ignore it, this habit of his—but just because you do doesn’t make you any less uncomfortable than the first time he did it.
you don’t bother hugging him back. 
you were too pissed off to keep up with pretenses. 
“the clinic called, said you weren’t attending your sessions. why were you lying to me?” 
when pushed into a corner, you were never one to beat around the bush.
“i don’t like going alone, i told you that, remember?” he quickly replied, shoving you away. “i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just come with me for my sessions, don’t you think? you’re blowing this out of proportion when it’s all your fault.”
you wanted to pull at your hair. scratch that, you wanted to pull at his hair—no, not in that kind of way. 
“how the fuck—” you stop. taeyong hates it when you curse. cursing will do you more harm than good. you inhale through your nostrils, willing yourself to calm down. “how is this my fault? i told you i have to run errands for professor kim!”
“then quit working there! they’re not even paying you, it’s just for extra credit! which you wouldn’t even fucking need if you weren’t flunking astronomy so bad.” taeyong must’ve seen your features twisting into that of betrayal. he was there when you were crying your eyes out because you failed the exam. he knew the subject was taking such a big toll on you. 
how could he…
“don’t fucking look at me like that, kitten. you know it’s the truth.”
what is the point of this, some form of payback he’s subjecting you to? just because you didn’t come with him to his sessions? six months in this relationship and you already feel so drained, how would the universe expect you to keep up for a whole fucking lifetime together with him?
“why…” you choke, the tears building up in your eyes as your voice breaks. “so what do you want me to do, then?” you ask, because you genuinely don’t know. 
does he want you to choose? is that it? you didn’t want to lose the credits, but you didn’t want to lose this relationship either, no matter how much you’re drowning in the toxicity of it all. 
because this is your soulmate. 
certainly, the universe wouldn’t destine you to each other if it would only bring forth chaos, right? taeyong has mentioned time and time again that this is his first relationship. of course, he’s depending on you to show him the ropes. 
but it seems he isn’t really a big fan of how you do things. 
“quit.”
you shake your head defeatedly. “you know i can’t. i’d have to take the whole subject again next semester and—”
“i said quit, dollface.” the finality in his tone renders you speechless. “then fucking take the subject again next semester! i don’t care. that’s your consequence for neglecting your major. why the fuck do i have to suffer, too, if my soulmate is such a failure?”
his words cut deep, deeper than flesh, cutting through bone as your knees the urge to buckle and collapse before him. “taeyong, please—”
“honestly, i don’t even know what you’re doing with that professor. you always brush it off whenever i ask you!” the glare he sends could kill. “is this… is this why you’re so adamant about not quitting? then again… what kind of professor is willing to pass his students just by interning for him? i can’t believe i’m only realizing this now!”
this is bad. this is very, very bad. 
“whatever you’re thinking about is not true! trust me—”
but as if he can’t hear you, he dawdles on, trying to connect the dots when there is absolutely nothing to connect. 
“you suck dick for grades? how could you do this to me? how can you do that to yourself?” 
you don’t understand exactly why he’s crying again so you don’t say anything. not because his fierce accusations were right but because even if you try hard to convince him that nothing is going on with your astronomy professor, he’d still cry and whine and paint you to be the bad guy. 
“what… what use do i have in this world if my soulmate thinks i’m not enough? and i lost you to some guy who smelled like prunes of all people!” you would have laughed if the situation had been different, but taeyong was dead serious. “i’m useless. i’ve been useless with my family, my friends, and now you. i can never do anything right, can i? i can never make anyone stay. i can’t even make you stay!”
and like a switch that has been flicked off, your conflicted emotions vanish in thin air. gone are every trickle of anger, confusion, and irritation you felt as he makes a beeline to the coffee table, smashing the little ornamental fish bowl and pointing a shard against his dainty wrists. 
“no!” you tackle him to the ground, groaning when you feel the shard dig into your side yet you made no effort to get off of him. blindly, you reach, twisting his wrist to drop the piece of glass. “you promised!” you wail, clutching the collars of his shirt as you pull him close to you. “stop, stop hurting yourself.”
you feel him shaking his head, his own onslaught of tears staining your shirt as the negativity he’s been bottling pours over like a tsunami, dragging you under the currents with him. “no, no, no…” you splutter, snot running disgustingly down your nostrils. “it’s not true, none of that is true. you’re my love, my moonlight, i’d never betray you for anyone or anything!”
“but—but your professor, the internship—”
“i’ll quit. i’ll take the subject again next semester, it’s not a big deal, okay? don’t worry, i’m here. i’m so sorry!”
it was all too easy.
the thing with noble people like you is the foolish sense of responsibility lying underneath your skin, it’s gravitational pull so strong that you don’t bother to think before you speak, to think before you act, to think before you make promises, because what’s important isn’t yourself, it’s the person lying meek and helpless before you. 
quit, you say? taeyong wants something more.
the evil lying inside pandora’s box can never remain dormant, not when meddlesome people like you who think with a one-track mind pull the lid off its hinges, preaching how every evil can have their own redemption.
a hand finds purchase around your waist as an eerie blissful smile stretches on his lips, eyes clouded over. “really? i’m your moonlight?”
“yes—”
“would you prove it to me?”
he doesn’t make room for your hesitance to settle, he lunges, hands wrapping around your face to pull you into a kiss. it wasn’t like all the other kisses you’ve shared with him, no, this one had a dark, underlying purpose. his hands digging into your open wound to make it bleed, tongue sliding into your mouth the moment you gasped in pain.
your hands press on his chest, trying to push him away but taeyong’s thoughts are running wild. you blush in sheer humiliation when he lets out an almost pornographic moan. with a sinking realization, you’ve become hyper aware of something poking at your abdomen.
no, not yet. you weren’t ready yet!
“taeyong, wait—i’m not—”
“you said you love me, didn’t you?”
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potter-imagines · 4 years ago
Text
Library Confessions (George Weasley)
Summary:  george fluff?? maybe like some sort of best friends to lovers kinda deal?
Notes: I've been wanting to write George for a while so I was excited to make this !! hope you enjoy x
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Warnings: None, just fluff
Word Count: 5.3k
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It was a flurry and cold winter day, the kind of day when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. Seeing as it was your seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts, most would assume you’d have adapted to the cold by now, but that wasn’t the case. Although as much as you despised the freezing temperature, the pulsating tick of your headache preferred the cold over the thunderous noise back inside.
The Gryffindor common room was too rambunctious- wild, uncontrolled for your desires tonight. It was Friday and tomorrow was the highly anticipated day trip to Hogsmeade. Students were understandable thrilled and you would have loved to join in, but the throbbing pain and stress of school on your shoulders masked your fun. The migraines were brought on by school, but also the idea that you would not get to join your friends tomorrow.
Your feet carried you further from the common room, the rowdy noise fading with every step. If the weight of homework wasn’t so heavy on your shoulders, the party would’ve been in your plans. You tried to stay as long as you could but after about twenty minutes, and three Weasley fireworks being set off, you decided a breath of fresh air sounded delightful.
Your best friends, Fred and George Weasley, were the cause of this chaos. They were fully sober yet drunk off the energy of the room. When you had left, Fred and Lee were orchestrating a tournament of pumpkin juice pong, and George was sitting on the scarlet couch talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione. His eyes darted to you every few seconds. Sometimes he would hold the gaze, or send you a wink, but most of the times he snapped his head back to the golden trio, pretending his attention was elsewhere.
It made your heart thump against the bones of your chest. You were sure if he had been sitting beside you he’d surely hear it, loud and clear. A deep pink blush spread across your cheeks at the thought of George. You had been close friends with the twins since you stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express and sat in the same cabinet as them. Through the years, the bond grew stronger yet developed differently with each twin. Fred was like an annoying, overbearing, proactive big brother and George, well, the affection you felt for George was not in a brotherly way. 
Since your third year, you started noticing subtle things about him. Like how he arched his eyebrows when he spoke, or when he’d bite his lip when taking notes. He also had a tendency to eat his dessert first, if you got him laughing enough he’d accidentally let out a tiny snort and he always stood to your left when you walked to class together. When winter came, George was always shedding his clothes in order to keep you warm. Fred would complain that you knew it was snowing, therefore it’s your fault for being cold, but never George. Not to say that Fred is cruel, he can be a gentleman when he chooses but your relationship was more sibling bickering and competition. But George had always been a bit, sweeter than Fred.
Most wrote the twins off as one person but the differences between the twins was written out in neon signs, in your eyes. Maybe it was because you were closer to the twins than most, besides Lee. They were both your best friends, but they treated you in polar opposite ways. If Fred ever tried to cuddle you in his bed, you were sure you’d ‘Stupefy’ him into oblivion. When George did it, you could hardly croak a breath with all the rockets exploding in your heart.
The fragrance of frosted pine and butterscotch wafted through the nipping air as you approached the north entrance of the castle. Winter was finally here. The beauty of Hogwarts shined most bright during this time of the year. Snow crunched under the weight of your foot while you trudged through the courtyard taking advantage of the short cut. With the overwhelming school work piling by the second, slipping into the library didn’t seem like such a bad idea. You had two papers, a research project for Magical Creatures, and an exam in Potions. Not to mention you were expected to memorize and perfect a list of disarming and protection spells before Defense Against the Dark Arts by Tuesday.
Lost in your own stress, you hardly noticed your feet carrying you into the large doors of the library. The lighting was low and the attendance was even dimmer. A few Hufflepuffs and a handful of Ravenclaws were scattered around the room. Madam Pince nodded her head at your arrival then returned to her work behind the main desk.
Sliding into an empty table, you started to situate yourself. A stack of parchment was already waiting next to a clean quill and glass container of ink. It wasn’t hard to find the necessary textbooks and you returned back to your seat rather quickly.
A good twenty minutes had passed before your ears perked up at the sound of Madam Pince scolding a student. You didn’t have a clean view of her desk but you assumed a group had gotten too loud for her liking. Turning back to your book you faced away from the main entrance of the library. Eyes scanning the textbook, a new presence creeping up behind you went unnoticed. As you flipped to the next page in the advanced potions book, a grasp clamped down on either shoulder and a pair of lips hovered dangerously close to your ear. The unexpected warmth created a jolt on energy through your body. You practically flung out of your chair in surprise, whipping around to face your attacker. The initial glare and scowl soon washed away as your eyes met a familiar pair of warm, chocolate orbs.
George Weasley had a devilish grin, proudly basking in your shock. Not giving you a second to refuse his arrival, George pulled the wooden chair besides you out and sat in it. Throwing his arm across your shoulder, he smiled innocently at you.
“And what might you be doing in here on this eventful Friday evening, hm?”
Still reeling in shock, you placed your hand over your heart in hopes to calm down from the scare. Wildly glaring up at George, you yelled in a hush tone,
“George! You nearly gave me a heart attack- what’re you doing here?” You smacked his chest with a thud, though George remained unphased. His eyes squinted down at you while he shot back,
“Pretty sure I asked you first, love.” He said smugly. A large maroon and gold sweater adorned his frame, paired with dark washed jeans. You could smell the signature scent of pine and cinnamon that wafted wherever he followed. Folding your book on the table top, you glared playfully at the ginger.
“What else is there to do in a library besides studying?” The smart reply caused a twinkle in George’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning as his witty side took control. His fingers tightened around the blades of your shoulder, dragging you a tad closer to him.
“Plenty of things-” An instant smack came as you knocked his side once more. George chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by the flusterness taking over your features. Motioning towards the stack of parchment and mountain high pile of lengthy textbooks, you shook your head.
“I’ve got a lot of work due this coming week, so figured I’d get a head start.”
“Ah, you weren’t enjoying the party.” He declared knowingly. George typically never left your side during house parties. The anxiousness and suffocation of the noise that crept into your veins was always capped by the feeling of his arm around your shoulder protectively. Although tonight, George ran to the Golden Trio the moment the function began, leaving you alone in the corner with Dean and Seamus. You were friends with the boys but George was the only one who could make you feel relaxed and him being busy, escaping the party seemed like the best option.
Leaning into your chair, a heavy sigh fell from your parted lips at the recollection of tonight. “Not really I suppose. I don’t know… not in the partying mood tonight.” You admitted softly. George’s face furrowed immediately, concerned painting his features boldly. The dim lighting of the library all but hid the gleam of worry in his eyes.
“What’s got you stressed, darling?”
Scoffing at the question you picked up your book and started flipping through the pages again. For starters, you couldn’t decide where was the best place to start when it came to all your worries. There was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who returned last school year, the fact that the twins were planning on leaving early to open their shop (which they asked you to help run once you finished with school), home stress, school work, your feelings for George, trying to figure out your plans for after Hogwarts, and so much more. The weight of the world was crashing down on you and for the first time, you felt like allowing it to crumble you.
“You mean besides the school work I’m drowning in and the ever looming fear of being murdered by the Dark Lord himself? Eh, not much.” The sarcastic reply was all too familiar to George. Having spent the last seven years glued to your side, he started to pick up on your antics. Like your constant need to use sarcasm to hide your genuine fears. He studied you for a moment, searching for any hint on what really had you worked up.
Reaching his hand out, George plucked the potions book from your hands and started surveying it. He tilted the book upside down, pretending to read the text. Scrunching his brows, the fiery twin feigned comprehension of the material, a small ‘oohh’ and ‘hm’ falling from his lips as he did so. His silly antics caused you to giggle as he threw the book back to the table.
“Why’re you doing homework on a Friday night, anyhow? You’ve got all tomorrow morning and all day Sunday for that!”
“Technically have all day tomorrow as well-” George stopped you short as he cut into the conversation stubbornly.
“No, we’re all going to Hogsmeade and I already claimed your spot next to me at The Three Broomsticks!” He resembled a pouty child as he huffed besides you. Flipping the page of your textbook, your mouth bunched in the corner, guilt entering your bloodstream.
“I’m really sorry, Georgie. If my grades slip any further- my mum’ll have my head on a stick! Besides, I didn’t figure it would be that big of a deal, everyone else is going so I’m sure my absence will not be noticed.” Your laugh was meant to cover the tang of honest hurt, although you hoped it would slip past him. Of course, George noticed everything when it came to you and seeing you down was definitely not something he felt okay with ignoring.
“But I’ll notice- just like I did tonight.” He added with a point of the finger. It was true, George always seemed to notice when you were missing. He also always seemed to know where you were when you did sneak away.
“Thanks…” Trailing off, you glanced over to George. The honey like orbs were already examining your features. You assumed he must’ve picked up on the sadness dripping through your pores because the next thing you knew, George was offering up his entire Saturday.
“You want me to stay back with you?” Your head snapped in his direction immediately. With a bugged stare, you shook your head feverishly.
“What- no! You and Fred practically countdown the days until we get to go to Hogsmeade. I know how bad you wanna go, don’t skip out ‘cause of me.”
“We do have another trip next month so I can just wait to go until then. I’m sure Hogsmeade will still be flourishing by then. C’mon, you know you want me to stay back. You’ll bore yourself to death without me around!”
“You’d just be staying back because you feel bad-” George interrupted you, face reading bewilderment at your accusation.
“No, I’d be staying back because I want to. Y/n, when have I ever hung out with someone I don't want to be around- besides Percy seeing as I’m obligated to share a home with him. I want to spend time with you, that’s why I look forward to Hogsmeade trips. Get to spend time with you outside of the castle. So if you’re not there, I’m just gonna be miserable, love. Which means, I better just stay back with you.” A mischievous smirk rose to his lips as he finished his spiel, crossing his arms across his chest. The material of his sweater bunched around his fold and you admired Molly’s handiwork. Pressing your finger into his chest, you gave George a playful shove. He reached out for the table top to sturdy himself as he chuckled. Batting your lashes you teasingly cooed,
“Sounds like someone can’t get enough of me.” Not missing a beat, George rested his elbow on the tabletop. His chin was planted in his palm as he leered dreamily.
“Thought we already established that.” He winked over to you. Lifting up your heavy book, you sheltered your blushing cheeks behind the pages. Your forehead pressed deeply into the pages as you folded the covers around your heated face.
“You joke too much.” Mumbling into the book, you were taken aback when a hand abruptly snatched the book from your fingertips. You watched as the book went above your head, then settled in George’s hand. He snapped the cover shut between his hands, an echoing ‘snap’ invading the library. The peppermint lingering on his breath smacked against your lips. George ran his finger over the title page, then tossed it to the side. As the book slammed on the counter, he turned his head back to you.
“Never about my feelings towards you, though.” He stated seriously. Your brows pulled together in a stern line.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your furrowed gaze rested heavily upon him.
“I just… really like spending time with you. Like just the two of us.” As he finished speaking, you watched cautiously as George’s hand sneaked over to land on top of yours. His palm was warm on top of yours. After a few seconds, he flipped your hand over so it was set inside his. That comfort feeling bursted in your chest under the weight of his eyes. It was funny how the simplest of actions from him could cause a firework extravaganza in your chest. The tension in your throat was increasing.
“I do, too, Georgie. You’re very sweet.” You smiled awkwardly, the bashfulness overcoming every cell in your body. When Fred complimented you or was too kind, it made you suspicious. Usually he buttered you up before a prank, so you never fully trusted his words but George? George was too gentle to ever set you up or put you in harms way.
“Y/n… there was actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you- well something I was gonna ask you tomorrow but seeing as you’re not going, might as well as you now.” The mumble was a notch above audible. You watched on as he fumbled with his hands, twiddling his thumbs nervously. His anxiousness was contagious as you soon felt uneasy as well. Your mind raced in worry as you wondered what was clouding his mind. As if it was second nature, your hand moved out in reaction to his worrisome state to snake his hand into your own. Softening your piercing stare, you squeezed his hand tightly.
“What’s wrong, George?”
His attention was shifted to your locked hands. It wasn’t the first time you held his hand, although it was the first time you were knocked off balance by the wave of electricity streaming down your spine from the touch. Based on his reaction, you figured George felt it too.
“Uh, would you ever want to, like, go on a date? I um, I’ve really liked you for quite some time now and I keep trying to ask you but I get nervous cause… I just needed to tell you myself before Fred does it for me.”
“Tell me now if this is a prank, George Weasley.” The sternness in your voice was something George only heard on occasion. He knew not to joke when it came to your heart so he was taken aback by your words, though understood why. You saw the confusion stirring in his brain before he settled your worries.
“It’s not a prank, love, I swear on my life. I would never lie about my feelings, that I can promise.”
“Tomorrow?” You looked up, eyes peeking over to your side. George had hardly moved and stared blankly at you. It was if his brain had hit a wall and was lagging in processing. The candle on the table flickered, orange and red shadows flashing across his face. Even in the shadows the razor sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones popped.
“Huh?” He croaked.
Catching a Weasley twin off guard was not a common thing and George appeared baffled. Hands folded in your lap, you could feel the small shake to his grasp. In an odd way, you felt a surge of confidence knowing you had the power to make George blush. Tightening your hand around his own, you roamed the pad of your thumb across his knuckles.
“Could we go on a date tomorrow? After I finished at least two of my papers- could we go on a date then?” It was hard to shake the electric shock tingling through your bones. Never before had you basked in eyes as beautiful as his. His eyes reminded you of a pool of whiskey and shades of chestnut. When the light flashed, a honey, caramel tint soaked his orbs. Simply calling them ‘brown’ eyes did no justice.
Your voice brought a large smile to George’s lips like he won the lottery. The glistening gleam brighten the dim corner of the library. You could feel your breathing become inconsistent once again at the sight. Nodding his head, you watched with a smile as his sandy, ginger hair danced in tune.
“Yeah, yeah of course. Does uh, does that mean you like me too?”
Leaning back in your seat, you started to think back on all your years at Hogwarts. There wasn’t an exact moment you fell for him- it didn’t happen all at once. It was born as a crush, your heart leaping at the sight of the handsome boy your first year. When you started hanging out with the twins, you immediately grew close with them by the third week. Since then, you only got closer with the twins although it was undeniable that there was always a more intense gravitational pull you felt towards George. Not that Fred hadn’t pointed out the obvious connection between his twin and you numerous times. He enjoyed harassing George and yourself a bit too much.
Shrugging your shoulder in uncertainty, you admitted,
“Honestly it’s been so long I can’t remember when I first started liking you. I mean I’ve had a crush on you since first year and… I’ve always found you to be the funniest, most handsome guy I’ve ever met.” You paused your word vomit to take in George’s expression for a sign. Glancing up, you noticed he was far closer to you than he was before. The tip of his nose faintly brushing against your own. Your eyes enlarged in seconds at the lack of space between you two. “What’re you doing?”
A gulp echoed through George. His teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip, tugging at the skin in an attempt to calm his nerves. You viewed in curiosity as his eyes darted from your lips, to your eyes, then to the floor, then back to your lips again. Your suspicions were confirmed as George locked his peer into your own. His face read seriousness as he asked you gravely,
“Are you going to slap me if I kiss you? I’ve seen you knock the daylights out of Fred for trying to. Mum says you need to take a girl out before you kiss ‘em for real so I wanna do it somewhat right. Y’know, be a gentleman and such.” 
Your cheeks flared red instantly, eyes planted to the floor. George had always been sweet but you never expected him to be this sweet. There was nothing more in the world that you desired than finally getting to kiss George Weasley, but it was an incredible kind of him to take your own feelings into thought before acting. You pressed your lips together tightly, exceeding all your effort into suppressing the bashful smile threatening to breakthrough. It took everything inside to contain your excitement and nerves at his proposal.
George broke your messy train of thought as the sensation of his hand against your skin registered. His slim fingers brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear, then wrapped around the side of your cheek. Like two magnets matching up, you melted into his touch. Finally drawing your gaze back up, you placed the palm of your hand against George’s chest, grasping a light fist of his sweater for stability. The height difference wasn’t immense, but enough that you needed some sort of control to keep on your feet.
“How proper of you, Mr. Weasley. Yes, I would really like that.”
Leaning into his hand, you met George’s gaze as you slowly moved towards each other. Meeting in the middle, you were nearly knocked off your feet by the force of his embrace. Your lips connected like a perfectly mapped constellation. His kiss was warm and fulfilling, yet constantly left you wanting more. It was undeniable he had practice before, his lips moved far too calm for this to be his first.
You practically melted in his arms, kissing him softly. Your lips danced for a moment until you steadied your hand on his cheek, holding his face. You needed that sense of control, wanted to feel the hold you had under George. Taking the first leap, you dragged your wet tongue along the smoothness of his bottom lip. A tiny, almost inaudible groan fell from his mouth. You deepended the embrace momentarily, then pulled away to press one lasting kiss to his puckered lips. George giggled in reaction, a cherry red blush painting his cheeks.
“You’re adorable.” George ‘booped’ the tip of your nose when he finished speaking. You laughed at his action then extending your finger, you placed a similar tap to his nose and teased him,
“Stop talking about yourself, George.” Although before you could fully retreat your hand, George’s own wrapped around your fingers. In one swift motion he lifted your hand to his face, then pressed his lips to the back of your hand. As he raised his head, his arm was quick to wrap around your shoulder, jerking your chair towards George as a result. His fingers clutched your upper arm loving. 
That smug smile was plastered across his face again, pleasantly pleased with the peach glow tinting your cheeks. Feeling the heat rising you dove to cover your cheeks in the sleeves of his sweater. George accepted your full embrace, arms moving to circle your body entirely. Suddenly a light bulb popped in his mind as he released his grip slightly to glance down at you.
“Maybe if I help you with some of your paper tonight, we’ll have more time for our date tomorrow!” The excitement in his voice was by far the sweetest sound you’d heard. You smiled back at him and nodded in agreement.
“Sure but I do the writing- I don’t trust you enough for that. Your handwriting resembles that of a child.” You laughed at your own jab while George gave you a deadpan look, clearly unable to form a comeback. He’d say so himself that his print was what the Muggles would call ‘chicken scratch’, a phrase you taught George. When George first learned to write with a quill and ink, he had a tendency to smear the ink a smudge as he scribbled away faster than the speed of light. Molly would scold George as the side of his hand would be stained a deep black shade and his paper was hardly legible.
“Rude but, understandable.” George commented. It was sweet of him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he truly wanted to spend his Friday night stuck in the library. Raising your eyebrow to the boy, you gave him a questionable look.
“Wait, don’t you have a party you should be getting back to?” Arm still enclosed around your frame, George gave you a squeeze. A mischievous smirk now covered his lips as he confessed the truth. 
“What do you mean? I only threw that party with Fred so I could spend the night around you- maybe impress you with my wicked dance moves.”
Giving him a pointed look, your chest erupted with a fit of giggles. A memory popped into your mind of the first time you got the chance to view a drunk George Weasley putting on a ‘show’ for you. Sober George was a decent dancer but drunk George was on a different level of skill. The liquid courage had left George regretting a lot of nights and quite a bit of scenarios that came as a result. 
Although dancing drunk with you was never a regret of his. Especially when the two of you went to the Yule Ball together as ‘friends’. Mummers followed your every move as you waltzed with George, students gossiping about George and yourself. Not that you paid attention to anyone but George- there wasn’t a chance given to! You didn’t spend a single second resting on your feet as George had you dancing until the band was packing up. He spun, twisted, lifted, and twirling you all night long. When a slow song finally came on, the prankster king put his gentleman side on full display. It was by far one of the best nights of your life, one you still had yet to stop daydreaming over. Poking his side, you smirked teasingly at the boy.
“Georgie, darling, I’ve seen them before. You’d have a better chance sending yourself to the infirmary than impressing me with your ‘moves’. I haven’t forgotten the Yule Ball last year. My head was spinning for a month!” You laughed together at the reminiscence. George was just as mesmerized by the night as you, maybe a tad more so. For those few hours of pure bliss, George had never felt more complete. Seeing you all dressed up and glowing from head to toe- the image was captured in his mind forever. He never understood the term ‘speechless’ until he saw you walking down the stairs in search of him. He replayed that moment over and over again for a year now. Rubbing your shoulders lovingly, George leaned his head on top of yours.
“Aw, c’mon! You loved it! Twirling around like a beautiful ballerina in your dress. You looked breathtaking- everyone was staring at you. Can’t blame them, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you either.” His words made your insides feel fuzzy, kinda like the sleeve of his sweater. That of which your fingers were absentmindedly petting. George smiled down at the quirk, he loved every antic of yours.
Shaking your head, you pulled the book back that George had discarded. After all, you still had a stack of unwritten essays to get working on. You popped open the top of the ink container. George unraveled his arm from your shoulder to wrap lightly around your waist.
“Stop making me blush.” Crimson flooded your s/c cheeks, far too flustered to meet George’s eyes. That confidence from early had flown away just as sudden as it came. A sprout of warmth came as George’s finger pressed against the side of your jaw, turning your face. Sweetly, and silently, he requested your gaze to which you obliged.
“But you look so beautiful when you do, darling. Now stop distracting me- we have a paper to write, in case you’ve forgotten, love.” His lips darted forward and soon enough, his enticing lips kissed your reddening cheeks. George smirked teasingly, reaching the feathered quill out to brush against your nose. You lightly smacked it away, giggling at him as you did.
“You’re the one distracting me-” The squeal was silenced by George as he pretended to ignore your words as he continued to tease you. Pressing his finger against your lips, George purred,
“Hush, we’ve got work to do so I can take you out tomorrow, love.”
“Fine but don’t forget Georgie, I’m doing the writing.” Narrowing your playful glare, you spoke sternly. It was a sort of game you played- going back and forth with one another. Although finally that teasing crossed the line of flirting to something real. In a way, it almost felt fake. Like all those years of waiting hadn’t really paid off, you were just asleep in your dorm room, dreaming this all up.
The touch of George’s arm leaving your waist cold was enough to question; however the radiating sensation of his hand slipping into yours was confirmation it was real. The chaste kiss he left on the back on your hand still buzzed. Despite the lack of lighting, every handsome feature was distinct from his blazing locks to the scatter of freckles dotting his face. Giving you a sly wink George flirted,
“Ah, I love a woman who takes control.”
For the next hour and a half, far in the corner, behind rows of bookshelves and torches to light to way, George and yourself attempted to write your essay. The first hour consisted of stolen kisses, stolen looks, and George constantly stealing your book from your hands. He made it nearly impossible to the point you threatened to cancel your study date, which shaped him up immediately. 
The last half and hour George read to you different pages from your stack of books until you got a good jump on the paper. You were feeling hopeful until Madam Pince had announced the library would be closing for the night. In a matter of seconds, George’s hand was clamped around your wrist, attempting to drag you out. You managed to scoop your school supplies together and tuck them away in your bag before allowing him to escort you back to the common room. You just hoped your study date tomorrow would consist of some actual study. If not, it’s a good thing you have all of Sunday.
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