#i was mostly joking when I said I was too sensitive last night but I’m like actually so mad and upset about this
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Guess who just cried because they couldn’t open a juice bottle
#i could never live alone#my hands are all red and raw now :(( and I even resorted to using a KNIFE#but I couldn’t get it so I just gave up and I was so upset over how PATHETIC I am that I started crying#imagine being so weak you can’t open a fucking bottle of juice#i was mostly joking when I said I was too sensitive last night but I’m like actually so mad and upset about this#god I’m pathetic
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Hii! Could i request a matchup from tlou universe (either part 1 or part 2, whichever one you decide on)
I’m a femme lesbian, and use she/her pronouns
I’m 4’9 and quite skinny, and absolutely zero muscle whatsoever, like opening a water bottle is a whole workout for me. I’m mentally I’ll and neurodivergent, as well as having chronic pain. I’m a model, but in my free time I like to bake/cook, do crosswords and puzzles, garden, and spend time in nature. I have a very hyper-feminine style, like I do not own a single piece of clothing that isn’t pink, white, yellow, or something pastel, and literally only have one pair of pants in my whole wardrobe that I only wear when it gets cold, yet I am, ironically, always cold. I have really long, wavy hair, big gray doe eyes, and always wear pink lipstick + lipgloss. I usually spend anywhere between an hour to an hour and a half on my hair and makeup daily. Makeup, hair, and fashion occupy most of my time, yet my type is women who literally have no clue about anything when it comes to things like that. Butches/studs and mascs are literally the greatest creation on earth.
Most people hear I’m a model, and that I like fashion and makeup and whatever and assume I’m some stuck up, rich bitch, but I’m literally the polar opposite. I would much prefer to be somewhere like the countryside, or in the mountains or something like that, than anywhere in the city. I’m such an introvert and barely ever leave my house, if it’s not for modelling, grocery shopping, or volunteering at my local soup kitchen. Like I couldn’t tell you the when last time I went out was. I love spending time in nature like I said, but that nature is mostly just my own garden and backyard.
I absolutely love cats, I have four of them, and they’ve all been adopted from the shelter. I also love collecting things, like trinkets, letters, stuffed animals, etc. I love romcoms and animated movies (like studio ghibli, Disney etc, but no I am not one of those weird Disney adults, I just watch the movies sometimes😭) and absolutely hate horror movies and action movies. I’m like the worlds most sensitive person, like I’ll cry over ANYTHING, if someone just changes the tone of their voice while talking to me, I instantly assume they suddenly hate me/ are mad at me and I’ll start crying, but also somehow find it kinda hot if someone is like teasing me, or playfully ‘bullying’ me. My type is someone very opposite to me really, so I guess opposites really do attract.
I also have a vinyl collection, and just listen to pretty much any kind of music, except for hip hop/rap, metal and electronic really. I don’t really like country music either unless it’s Taylor Swift. My music taste is basically the stereotypical lesbian music (Hozier, girl in red, Julien baker/boygenius, Chappel roan, MUNA, etc…) but also some random artists sprinkled in like Frank Sinatra, and Beethoven, like my music taste is all over the place, pretty much anything from the 30’s up until now, with some classical music too
Anyway, sorry if this is too long, you definitely don’t have to do this matchup, or get to it quickly, just take your time. I hope you have a great day/night and thank you so much if you do do a matchup!! <3
Your TLOU(2) match is…
Ellie Williams
Ellie would be extremely protective of you, knowing that you’re not very strong and have chronic pain
She’d make sure to do any heavy lifting and wouldn’t let you strain yourself
Even though Ellie isn’t the best cook, she’d love helping you out while baking or cooking
She’d probably mess up a lot at first, but you’d guide her, and it would always turn into a fun, messy time together
Ellie would love your cats and would probably end up adopting a few more with you
She’d joke about becoming “crazy cat ladies” together in an apocalypse
Knowing how you’re always cold, Ellie would constantly offer her jacket or cuddle close to keep you warm, especially during chilly nights
Ellie would tease you about your hyper-feminine style but would secretly find it adorable
She might even try on some of your pastel-colored clothes or accessories just to see your reaction
She’d sit with you while you played your vinyls, sharing her own music recommendations and talking about which songs remind her of you
Sometimes you’d just sit in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the room
Ellie would definitely “bully” you in a playful, teasing way, knowing you secretly liked it
She’d enjoy making you blush and then showering you with compliments right afterward
During your time together, Ellie would always be on the lookout for little trinkets, letters, or stuffed animals to add to your collection
It would become her personal mission to find something cute for you whenever she went on a supply run
Ellie would constantly compliment you on your appearance
Even though Ellie didn’t know much about gardening, she’d love hearing you talk about it and would start helping out in your garden just to spend more time with you
She’d be there for you during moments of anxiety or sensitivity, offering comfort and reassurance
Ellie would be your anchor in moments of emotional overwhelm, knowing how deeply you feel things
You’d have movie nights where you’d watch romcoms or animated films together, and Ellie would secretly love it, even if she pretended not to
She’d hold your hand during the sad parts and occasionally sneak in a kiss when you got too emotional
Even though you’re not the strongest, Ellie would patiently teach you some survival skills, like how to shoot a bow or defend yourself
She’d make sure you felt capable, even if you rarely needed to use those skills
Given your love of music, Ellie would share some of the songs she knows on her guitar and even sing with you sometimes
It would be your shared way of winding down
Ellie would joke about how she’s your “human heater,” always there to keep you warm
She’d love wrapping you up in blankets or pulling you close during cold weather
Ellie would be fiercely loyal to you
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Tag List: @callsignwidow
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Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!!
Prompt - Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them! You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?
You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person. Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively. Cassian grabbed Az's wrist. He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly. He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?" The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning. + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit. Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground. Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower. You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade. + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance. The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it. "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt. "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down. "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb. "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory. "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away. Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics. "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug. + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay. The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child. The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..." Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options. You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade. "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air. "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him. A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been. The thought hit you like a well placed punch. He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home. His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over. You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out. You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader." Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile. "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow. "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again. He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days. "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused. "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped. + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket. "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first." Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps. "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings. The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect. You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips. You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child." "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics. He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering. He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot.
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.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 2
As you reconcile with Sirius, he reminisces on how you came to be friends despite a rather rocky start (mostly told through flashbacks taking place in the Marauders era).
LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8
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Ch 2 .:Pranks and Past Prejudices:.
~Previously~
“I was about to see if you were awake,” Sirius admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, stepping aside slightly so you could come in. If the Sirius Black from your school days had offered you into his room in the dead of night, you would have slapped him upside the head; but things were different now, and so were the two of you.
However, as you glanced around the room you almost laughed at how remarkably unchanged it was, and why wouldn't it be? He hadn't lived here since he was sixteen, and he was only living here now because he preferred this house to an Azkaban cell by a small fraction. While the rest of the house was set in deep tones of obsidian and gray, save for the green Slytherin theme of his younger brother's room, Sirius' room was all warm shades of red and gold, Gryffindor paraphernalia covering every inch of it from Quidditch trophies and old banners to a tapestry he had stolen from the Great Hall when they'd won the house cup that year.
The room was littered with memories of your school life— a set of charred robes from when he and James had drunkenly lit the Quidditch field hoops on fire, an old Beater's bat that he had broken in half during the Cup finals, an old Gobstones set you used to play with in the courtyard, and stacks of classic rock records that you and Remus had gifted him for the holidays. A muggle toolbox sat in the corner of the room from when he'd made improvements to his enchanted motorbike that couldn't be done with magic, which you were certain his parents were mortified by.
Posters of bikini-clad women were plastered across the wallpaper, and you recalled the day he told you his mother had a fit when she realized he'd used a permanent sticking charm on them so she couldn't take them down. Said posters were still present, but mostly covered up by all the photos of him and his friends from their school and early Order days— the only noticeable sign of change you could see from his moving back in. It was truly like some sort of time capsule.
As soon as you tore your eyes away from the room and turned to focus on its owner, a tense silence fell between you two. This was the first time you had seen Sirius in over a decade. The last time you two spoke, he was in chains being led away to Azkaban. What was there to say? How could you possibly think things could go back to the way they were?
“Sirius,” your voice cracked with emotion as you said his name, and when you saw the look in his eyes, so similar to the look he'd given you when he was in that horrible barbed cage during his trial, the dam just broke.
You practically threw yourself at him, sobbing quietly into his shoulder as the fabric of his shirt bunched up in your trembling hands
“I'm sorry,” you said, “I am so, so sorry I didn't believe you, Sirius. I didn't know, I didn't—”
“(Y/n), it's okay,” Sirius said softly.
You almost jumped at his gentle touch, his arm wrapping around your waist and one hand coming up to pet your hair. It hurt him to see you like this, that you went through this much because of him.
“There was no way you could have known,” he said, resting his chin on top of your head as tears continued to stream down your face, “There was no proof that I wasn't the Secret Keeper. We'd decided to make it that rat at the last second. Only James and Lily knew and, well, they couldn't exactly attest to my innocence.”
Hatred bubbled up in his chest at his own mention of Pettigrew, but he forced it down for you, his expression softening as soon as he looked at you. “That was bad judgment on my part, I suppose,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood, although twelve years in prison was a difficult matter to joke about.
“I should have just believed you,” you muttered into his collar. Sirius' other hand reached out to cup your face, wiping the last few tears from your cheeks.
“Come now, even Moony thought I'd done it,” he said, a small smirk finding its way to his face, “I know what it looked like. . . I don't blame any of you for not believing me. So please, don't blame yourself for this, (Y/n). You're still my best friend.”
“Oh, now you've done it,” you sniffled, laughing despite yourself as fresh tears spilled over. Sirius laughed along with you and yo u could feel the sound reverberate through his chest, rich and melodic. Warm.
He wrapped both his arms around you, holding you tight as you two chuckled like a couple of idiots, standing there glassy-eyed in the middle of his room. If anyone else had bore witness to the scene they'd have thought you'd gone mad, but in that moment you couldn't care less. Your body had been buckling under the weight of your guilt and how much you had missed him. Hearing him say that he still considered you his best friend. . . that was more than you could have ever asked for.
Sirius swelled with pride as he saw he was able to make you smile, something he'd long considered a small victory. He couldn't believe how much your relationship had changed. If someone had told him all those years ago that you would turn out to be someone he couldn't imagine his life without, he wouldn't have believed them. But he supposed life was unexpected like that. . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1973 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ever since the day you'd stood up to him, James Potter found himself increasingly curious about you. Of course he and his friends continued to pick on Snape, but when you were around to fend them off it became more and more difficult to do so, something that the leader of the self-proclaimed Marauders decided was cumbersome.
James insisted that to get to Snape they would have to take you down too, since you were so keen on protecting him.
“We need to cut the head off the snake,” he had said.
And so, slowly but surely, James shifted the cross hairs of his mischief-making from Severus Snape to you. It started out small; a Bat-bogey hex here, some heat sensitive combustion power under your cauldron there. What he didn't expect in the slightest was for you to actually retaliate with pranks of your own.
Quidditch season had just ended as the year came to a close, and James, who was supposed to be helping clean out the Gryffindor tent, was lying on his back and fiddling about with a golden snitch he'd found wedged in the wooden scaffolding. His head perked up as he saw the Lily across the pitch, walking next to you and chatting. He clearly couldn't care less about what, as he had no problem interrupting your conversation.
“Hey, Evans!” he hollered, heading towards you two.
As soon as Lily spotted him she rolled her eyes.
“And now we're walking faster,” she muttered, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you along.
“Aw come on, I just wanna talk,” he said, quickly catching up with you. Before long he had jogged a few paces ahead, turning around to block your path. “Hey,” he said with a smirk. He was wearing his Quidditch practice uniform, broom in hand.
“Merlin, you are nothing if not persistent,” Lily huffed.
“What can I say? I'm a Chaser~”
“Goodbye, James,” Lily deadpanned at the pun, and he quickly moved in front of her again.
“Wait, wait! Just watch this, okay?” he insisted.
You bit back a smirk, grateful he hadn't paid you any mind until now.
“Trust me, you've never seen anything like this before,” James said cockily, willing his broomstick to hover a few feet off the ground and hauling one leg over to mount it. However, as soon as his arse hit the wood, his entire body phased right through it. He groaned as his tailbone made unceremonious contact with the ground, his broomstick now hovering above him. As soon as he looked up the stick dropped and plonked him on the head, solid again.
You burst out laughing, revealing your wand that had been obstructed from his view by your sleeve.
“(Y/n)!” Lily looked at you in shock, hitting you in the arm playfully but unable to fight the laughter that rose in her chest. It was nice to see him get a harmless taste of his own medicine.
“Well, you were right, Potter,” the redhead said, “I've never seen anything like that before.”
James' face flushed with embarrassment while you two walked away, gathering his broom and whatever remained of his pride. You wouldn't get the better of him again.
Or, at least that's what he told himself until the beginning of your fourth year.
________________________________________________________
James strode down the corridors leading to the Great Hall with a pep in his step. It had been an unusually peaceful morning; despite having slept in, he wasn't in much of a rush to join his friends who had already made their way to breakfast.
The real reason for his quick pace was because he couldn't wait to see your reaction to his latest prank. It was a classic, amped up a bit thanks to a tube of ink from one of the “magic” markers at Zonkos. He hoped you liked your new look, because you were going to be saddled with it for a while.
As he walked through the courtyard he shot a wink to a fourth year Hufflepuff girl he recognized from his Divination class and she covered her hand with her mouth, turning away from him slightly as she tried to hold back the giggles that spilled from her lips. He gave himself a pat on the back, oblivious to the fact that the laughter was directed at him, an unawareness that stayed with him up until the moment he threw the doors to the Great Hall open. The gasps and laughter that followed him only grew as he sat down at his usual spot. Even his friends were staring at him, wide-eyed and unblinking.
“What?” James ran a hand through his hair in confusion, “What are you guys—!!”
As his hair flopped in front of his face his peripheral vision was curtained with the brightest shade of neon turquoise he'd ever seen.
“No,” he said, “no, no, no way!”
He grabbed one of the food trays, dumping the pastries that were on top onto the table. Peter squeaked as he caught a few that were about to fall, setting them down quietly on his own plate.
James stared at his reflection in the shiny metal, and sure enough his once pristine brunette hair was colored the bright blue of the magic marker whose contents he'd dumped into your shower bottle the night before.
“Did you like the shampoo?” a voice behind him asked innocently.
He nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around to see you, your hair colored the same bright blue shade. Now he was thoroughly confused.
“It smells nice, right?”
“How did you. . . if I. . . why is your hair—”
“A simple connection charm on the shampoo bottle,” you said, “anyone who touches it receives the same benefits and results of the next person who uses it within three hours. In this case, you landed yourself a dye job and a hell of a keratin treatment, so you're welcome. The spell was already on the bottle to begin with; pretty convenient when you have dorm mates that can all save on buying product, and besides it can be kind of nice to skip a hair wash day every once in a while. I suppose I should thank you, I didn't have to do any shopping or sneaking around for this one. You did all the work for me.”
You put your hand to your chin, pretending to study him for a moment.
“You should take care of that fast, though” you said nonchalantly, gesturing to his hair, “you don't look nearly as cute as I do in this color, Potter.”
To further prove your point, you waved your wand around the crown of your head, and with a quick utter of 'aufero hue' the blue in your hair seemed to melt right off the strands, leaving behind your natural (h/c) locks. The color swirled around the tip of your wand in an aqueous state for a moment before you flung it aside. It landed with a splat! against the Gryffindor table, staining a section of the wood that same shade of bright blue as if it had grown that way.
“I'd do it for you myself, but I don't want to,” you smirked, “ Perhaps you could take a few remedial classes to learn the color-leeching charm. Have fun figuring something out!”
And with that you flounced away, leaving behind a very embarrassed, very blue, and very reluctantly impressed James Potter.
He may just have found himself a proper rival.
Sirius scoffed from where he sat.
“Oh please, the stupid charm can't be that hard to do,” he said, taking out his wand.
“Not that I don't have faith in you, mate, but I'm probably better off seeing if Slughorn has anything for this,” James said.
“Why don't you just soak your head in some Valerian water? That's what takes the color out of potions, right?”
“Peter, he might go bald if he does that.”
“Oh.”
_______________________________________________________
James would go on to land a few good jokes on you too. There was one night where you had snuck into the Prefect's bathroom and emerged with a mermaid tail, which was pretty awesome until you realized you had no way of getting out of the tub. From then on, you and James would continue to try and get the jump on one another, marking the start of your now-infamous fourth year prank war. It entertained the students and infuriated the faculty. Gradually, your pranks on one another became more light-hearted, meant to amuse the other person and make them laugh rather than actually hurt or humiliate them.
“Very funny, (L/n),” James said as he walked up to you, his body turned around 180 degrees from the waist up so he had to shuffle backwards to face you. You laughed, nearly choking on your pumpkin juice as you saw your handy work.
“What are you, five?”
“Right, because you're so much more mature stalking and bullying my friends,” you quipped back.
“I really don't understand how Snivelus is your friend.”
“Severus,” you said crossly, “and for the record, I really don't understand how Remus is yours either. He seems like a nice guy.”
“Har har,” James rolled his eyes, “Now would you turn me the right way 'round already? I've got Quidditch practice.”
“Nah, I think you're fine to play like this.”
“Honestly? Not a bad tactic. I can cover my blind spot and stare at my own ass while I fly.”
“Who's five now?” you grinned.
As the months went on, instead of storming over to each other and slinging insults, your interactions with James became more akin to playful banter. And frankly, Sirius didn't get it. You were a Slytherin, and a pureblood at that. Hell, you were a descendant of one of the 28 pureblood families. Everything about you went against everything he believed in and relished in getting away from each year when he would leave home to go to school. You were in the same house as those stupid blood purists, you probably were one yourself—
“You're glaring.”
Sirius blinked, snapping out of his stupor as Remus nudged him in the shoulder. He said nothing, slowly returning to eating his dinner as he tore his eyes away from you, sitting at the Slytherin table with Snivelus, Evan Rosier, and his younger brother of all people. He stabbed at his roast potatoes a little too harshly and his friends traded looks among themselves.
“You alright there, mate?” James asked cautiously.
“Fantastic,” Sirius said, shoving another forkful of potatoes into his mouth to avoid saying anything unsavory as he spotted you heading towards their table.
“Coming to the library today, Remus?” you asked the boy to his right who looked up at you in surprise.
“Oh, sure thing,” he said, “I'm off for the night.”
“Great, we can study for Arithmancy then,” you said. Remus nodded at your suggestion and you gave him a dazzling smile, walking off with your books.
“Since when did you two get so chummy?” Sirius bristled.
Remus rolled his eyes.
“We're just studying for the upcoming mid marks,” he said, “They’re proficient in Ancient Runes and History of Magic. As a study partner it's. . . refreshing.”
“Oi, are you calling us stupid?” James rose a brow.
“Your words, not mine,” Lupin grinned. He saw Sirius' bothered expression and sighed, collecting his things.
“You might get on if you bothered to get to know them,” he told Sirius out of the others' earshot, slinging his book bag over his shoulder before heading off in your direction.
You only continued to grow inadvertently closer to James throughout your fourth year, your prank battle coming to its epic conclusion with the two of you joining forces against some particularly nasty upperclassmen. Your practical jokes subsided, your quips and passing insults were traded for real conversations and walking each other to class. You hated to admit it, but he'd grown on you— especially with him letting up considerably on bullying Severus and annoying Lily lately.
All the while, the closer you got to James the more irritated his best friend became. In Sirius' mind, the more time you were spending with James the less time James was spending with him. They hardly hung out alone anymore. And since James started hanging out with you he started mellowing out, which made Lily start hanging out with him, which made him even more tame. Sirius just wanted his best friend back.
“You do realize that issue would largely be resolved if you weren't so bothered by hanging out with both of them together, right?” Lupin had brought up one night as Sirius was airing out his frustrations.
“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”
“Have you ever asked them about it?” Remus pressed.
“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”
Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.
“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”
A/N: Thank you all so much for the unexpected early support on this story! I have a lot planned for it~ If you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know !
Read chapter 3 here!
Taglist: @blackpinkdolan @sleep-i-ness @parker-natasha
#harry potter#the marauders#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#james potter x slytherin!reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#regulus black x reader#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders#severus snape x reader#severus snape#multi chapter#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#post azkaban sirius
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home. (nanami kento x f. reader)
word count: 1.8k
synopsis: coming home to you after a long tiring day is everything nanami ever wanted in life.
contains: domestic fluff, established relationship, a bit of sexual suggestiveness
Smooth jazz music fills the apartment when Nanami Kento comes home. His lips curl into a tiny smile when the scents of different spices tickle his nose, and he carefully takes off his shoes, jacket and glasses, before loosening his tie. You are inside the kitchen, humming along to the music while chopping some vegetables to add to the curry you‘re making for dinner tonight. Nanami waits until you’ve finished chopping the zucchini and bell pepper, quietly observing how you lay down the knife to wipe your hands on the kitchen towel. Only then does he step into the kitchen to wrap his strong arms around your waist and pull you flush against his broad chest. You squeal but immediately relax into his arms when he mumbles a soft “Good evening, love.” into your ear. You turn around to smile up at him and gently cup his cheek with one hand, thumb rubbing over the stubble on his chin. He nuzzles deeper into your palm before turning his head to press a soft kiss against your warm skin. “How was your day?”, he asks gently, and you smile. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Work was uneventful and so slow I was allowed to go home an hour earlier. Mina says hi by the way, and asks if we want to come over for a game night on Sunday.” Your boyfriend kisses the tip of your nose, before humming in confirmation. “Sure, sounds good to me.” You purse your lips, drawing your eyebrows together in silent worry while your eyes travel over the dark circles under his eyes and the tired lines around his mouth “You look exhausted, Kento.”, you finally say, but Nanami just gives you a soft smile and shrugs. He has to admit that the sudden surge in curses over the last few weeks has been exhausting. He dislikes nothing more than having to work overtime, simply because it means putting work before coming home to you, but sometimes it just can’t be helped - and he‘s nothing if not responsible. “Nothing a quick shower, your infamous curry and a bit of extra sleep this weekend can’t fix.”, he answers soothingly, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a loving kiss against his lips, loud mwah-noise included. “Fine. Then go move your cute butt into the shower, dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes.”, you reply, and he raises one eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “My butt is not cute.”, he says, voice laced with quiet humor, and you grin at him, eyes sparkling with barely hidden glee. “Oh, it is very cute. Now go, I need to finish my ‘infamous curry’.” And with that you step out of his warm embrace and turn towards the stove again, clearly dismissing him to go get his much needed shower.
//
The hot water does wonders for his stiff, aching muscles. So for a few minutes, Nanami just enjoys the water gushing around his steeled body, the bathroom quiet except for the sounds of the shower and his own steady breathing. Suddenly, your voice cuts through the serene atmosphere: “FIVE MINUTES LEFT UNTIL I’M STARTING TO EAT - WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR CUTE BUTT!” Nanami can’t help but smile, quickly turning off the shower and beginning to dry himself with one of the big fluffy towels that always smell like your favorite laundry detergent.
You’re just setting the steaming plates onto the dinner table in the dimly lit living room when your boyfriend leaves the steaming bathroom, wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. You raise both eyebrows and cock your head to one side, eyes roaming his body appreciatively before landing on the wry twist of his mouth. You’re about 89% sure he’s flexing his muscles on purpose now, just to see the blush spread over your entire face until it has reached the tips of your ears. “I like sticking to the rules, so dinner first, then dessert.”, you try to say nonchalantly, a bit annoyed at your own reaction to Nanami’s half-nude body. Even after years of dating and living together, your boyfriend still has the same effect on you - the effect being the sudden activation of something you lovingly call your ‘monkey brain’.
“Meaning?”
Oh now he’s teasing you.
“Meaning you better put on some clothes or I cannot be held responsible for my next move.”, you reply and take a step closer, your hand traveling over his stomach, making his abdominals clench, before you take his chin between your fingers, pulling his face closer to yours. “But I’ll happily have some dessert later.”, you whisper against his lips, and he grins wolfishly. “Good. Then I shall behave and get dressed.” With that, Nanami covers your mouth with his, and before he can pull away again, you quickly deepen the kiss, tongue brushing against his bottom lip. He begins to smile, and cocks one eyebrow. “I thought dinner first, then dessert?” You sigh, and nod. “Yes, yes. So please just go, you heathen.” His deep chuckle makes heat spread through your entire body, and his intense gaze isn’t helping either, but then he finally leaves the living room, broad figure slinking away in the darkness of the hallway. You exhale deeply, cupping your own face to cool down your blazing cheeks. “Damn that man and the weird power he has over me.”, you mumble, only half joking, before finally sitting down at the dinner table, taking a few deep gulps from your glass of water. A few seconds later, your boyfriend reemerges, now clad in dark grey sweatpants and a simple white shirt, hair still damp and feet bare. You sigh dreamily, rest your chin on your palm, and just stare at him. Nanami always looks very put together, usually wearing suits and ties, which you also love on him, but this? Him looking so laid back and just overall boyfriend-y? That’s a whole other level of hotness. “You’re drooling.” You jump when his voice interrupts your thoughts, and shoot him a playful glare. “Am not.”, you mumble, “But now that you’re finally here and dressed, let’s eat - bon appétit.” He just purses his lips in an attempt to stifle his pleased smile before he sits down and lifts his spoon. “Bon appétit, love. Thank you for making dinner.” And with that, the two of you begin eating.
//
“Want to finally finish ‘Alice in Borderland’ before going to bed?”, your boyfriend asks after basically having wolfed down two plates of your delicious curry, and you nod immediately. That’s one of the many great things about Nanami - he’s not easily impressed nor easily invested in something, but once he is, he really is. Meaning that even though his schedule has been crazy busy this week, you guys still managed to binge-watch almost all episodes of the relatively new Netflix show. “Absolutely, let me just clean up first though.”, you say, already standing up, but Nanami suddenly wraps his long fingers around your wrist to tug you towards him until you’re standing between his legs. He presses his face against your stomach and buries his nose in the soft cotton of your shirt, deeply inhaling your scent, both arms tightly wrapped around you. You chuckle and carefully run your fingers through his hair, nails gently raking across his scalp. He shivers and a tiny moan escapes him, making your whole body tingle with want, but you quickly shake off the feeling. “Rough day?”, you ask quietly, but Nanami just shrugs. You rarely ask about his work, knowing he prefers to keep it as far away from you as possible. Of course you know he’s a powerful sorcerer, know he is perfectly capable of handling any and all situations no matter the danger, but other than that, he rarely if ever tells you about his missions, always keeping you in the dark but also safe, as he says. “You know you can always talk to me if you need to.”, you say softly, and your boyfriend pulls back to give you a small smile. “I know, love. Thank you. I’m really grateful to have you.” You feel your throat close up with unshed tears, and just nod once, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. “Me too, Kento.” He lifts his head to brush his lips against yours before suddenly standing up. “You already made dinner, so I’ll clean up. You go move your cute butt over to the couch and wait for me.”, he demands, and you lift one eyebrow. “Oh, so you can call my butt cute but I’m not allowed to?” Nanami grins. “You’re more than welcome to call your own butt cute too, I never once said anything against that.” You playfully smack his chest, which basically feels like you’ve just punched a brick wall, and shoot him a playful glare. “That’s absolutely not what I meant and you know it.” He just gives you a smug smile before wordlessly taking the dirty plates and carrying them towards the kitchen.
//
Half an hour later, you’re lying between Nanami’s outstretched legs, back pressed flush against his chest while he’s wrapped both arms around your waist. “Ready for the last two episodes?”, you ask, and your boyfriend just hums in confirmation, his breath tickling your neck and making you shiver. “Let’s go then.” And with that, you press play.
With your back to him, you’re unable to see Nanami’s gentle smile while he gazes down at you, warm and soft and safe in his arms. While he feels like the world of sorcerers is currently going crazy due to the sudden appearance of Sukuna’s new vessel, you continue to be a steady and grounding presence in his life. Mostly unknowing of and therefore untainted by the world of curses and darkness he decided to be part of, you’re the light he will always search for and return home to. You don’t even understand the impact you have on him, how grateful he is to you for bringing so much warmth and laughter into his life, to be the person he can confidently call his home. You giggle at something said on tv, and almost unconsciously, he pulls you even closer to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss against your sensitive neck and making you squirm in his arms. “Later, Kento.”, you chastise him, and he just hums, nuzzling deeper into your soft hair, before intertwining his long fingers with yours. He already knows that one day soon, your hand will have a ring on it - the one he bought months ago but still keeps safely tucked away in the deepest, darkest corner of his closet, just waiting for him to ask you the most important question of his life. For now, he’s just happy to finish ‘Alice in Borderland’ with you safe in his arms.
And to have dessert later - don’t think he forgot about that.
© oioinanami 2021 | masterlist
#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jujutsu kaisen scenario#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen fluff#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami scenarios#nanami scenario#nanami imagines#nanami imagine#nanami kento imagines#nanami kento scenarios#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen drabble#nanami drabbles
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(I love your work btw!!! 🥺💕) Can you make an imagine where the reader is cooking dinner for Ellie, but then Ellie starts feeling a bit needy for the reader while watching her cook, and ends up roughly fucking her on the kitchen counter, which leads to the food being burnt and they end up getting takeout instead? 😩
Summary: Cooking dinner until Ellie gets a nasty idea
A/N: I promised more farm!ellie so here ya go. Thank you for the request love <3 Thank you for enjoying and i know you said take out but like i started writing and was like oh shit they meant modern world, so i completely forgot im sorry AHSJA. Anyways mom!ellie
Warnings: NSFW, Strap-on, Fingering, Pregnant sex
Word count: 3.7K
"Shit." Ellie huffed, shutting the heavy door to the barn.
There was so much work still needed to do on the farm, the hen shed needed to be built still so for now they were spread out across the barn and the cows pen needed to be expanded. There was so much left to do and ellie was nervous y'all might not get it done by the time winter got here.
She had been out there all day working on getting all the animals comfortable in their new homes, the pigs being the hardest. As of right now though the sun was beginning to set and Ellie was starving. You had gone in not too long ago because you were becoming overheated, not well for the baby in your belly.
Ellie walked through the field, seeing how pretty the house looked in the sunset light. All the pretty oranges and reds spread across the wood of the house, she wished she had her sketchbook so she could get down the quick picture before it left her brain.
She reached the house, taking her shoes off so she didn't get mud on the floor. She could hear faint sounds of music, if she was real quiet she could hear you humming along with it. She smiled at the peacefulness she felt right now, suddenly all the stresses she had about the barn vanished. Suddenly she thought the barn was a great idea, if this was how it would be all the time then she could die a happy woman.
She set her shoes next to yours, taking one good look at the fields before going in. The sun buried itself behind the hills, casting a glow on the flowing laundry allowing her to see small peaks of the barn. She couldn't wait for the kid to be running through here, she could see it now. She could see herself running after the kid, small laughs coming from the both of them.... her kid. The thought made her smile.
She finally opened the screen door, the smell of dinner filling the air around her. That's when she saw in the dim light of the candle filled room, you in the middle of it all. You were dressed in a cute little cottage dress that you were given at the baby shower, and one of the women of the town made it for you.
You were making something on the stove, not noticing her presence until the screen door slammed behind her. You jumped slightly, the perks of living in a post-apocalyptic world. You gave a small smile when you realized it was her before averting your eyes to the pot in front of you.
Ellie placed her things down on the small table by your back door, her eyes glued to you. She made her way over to you, seeing a cookbook opened right next to you. There were so many types of vegetables out along with some bread and meat. You always did know how to surprise her with your old world cookbook.
"Long day at work Mrs. Williams?" You smiled, teasing her a bit.
"Long and hard, Mrs. Williams." She came up behind you, placing her large hands on your hips.
She swayed a bit to the music, watching you stir the food in the pot. You smiled at her sudden affection, the feeling of her hands gripping softly at your waist making you blush slightly. One of her hands made its way to your belly, noticing how much bigger it had gotten since y'all moved here.
"How are my girls doing?" She asked, caressing your stomach softly.
When you guys first found this place you were only a couple weeks along, not even 9 weeks along. Now you're almost 6 months old, you have gotten bigger and bigger. Your glow had only increased as well, you looked really good and really happy as well. Most nights were better than others obviously, the paranoia and depression of the outside world can be hard especially on a pregnant woman.
"We're doing okay, she's a little shit and won't settle down but hopefully food will calm her down." You replied, watching as the broth bubbled.
You could feel Ellie's grin on your neck, kisses halting for only a minute just to look down at the bubbles as well. It looked like chicken noodle soup but Ellie couldn't be sure. Her hands continued to caress your belly, feeling as the baby moved around. She will never get used to that, the feeling of a baby in your stomach.
She was dragged out of her thoughts when you turned your head to connect your lips together. She was caught off guard but happily moved her lips to yours, one hand still sitting on your hip and the other slightly pushing you back to rest yourself on her chest. You chuckled into the kiss, pushing her away slightly with your butt.
"Honey, I love you but you smell like a pig pen..." You joked, turning back to the oven. "Go get cleaned up for dinner, it has another 20 or 30 minutes left."
She laughed, stepping away from you for the first time since she came into the house. She gave your ass a soft smack before trailing herself up stairs. You let out a surprised yelp, giggling as you watched her walk to the doorway and stop in her tracks.
"behave yourself while i'm upstairs... You think you can do that?" She joked, giving you a small grin.
"Ugh that'll be impossible...how could I behave myself when I know you're washing pig shit off your hands just up the stairs." You joked back.
Ellie chuckled and made her way upstairs, jogging up the stairs and into your bedroom. It didn't take much to get cleaned up, she just changed into a plain white shirt and some random pair of jeans she found on the dresser.
While she was placing her dirty clothes into the hamper she caught a glimpse of one of your guys toys. It was a strap on, it was one you used often but it worked for the two of you. That's when the best idea came to her, she didn't hesitate in grabbing the strap on. She put it on tightly so it wouldn't fall off.
When she was comfortable with it, not too tight and not too loose she pulled up her jeans. It wasn't too noticeable, the strap was mostly folded in between her legs so it didn't show through her jeans. She smiled at her nasty idea before walking back down stairs, seeing you in the same position you were before. This time your eyebrows were knitted together in frustration, licking your lips which sent tingles through ellie.
She went back to the same position she was at only minutes before her nasty idea, but this time her hands roughly grabbed at you. There was a slight change in her presence than the last time, it was once innocent and peaceful but now it was like a lion staring down its prey.
Her lips were once again attached to your neck, hands bunching up your dress slightly. The roughness distracted you a bit, not expecting her mood to change within seconds. One of her hands was slowly making its way under your dress, giving you only a split second to realize what she was going.
You didn't know if it was you being pregnant or what but you were almost immediately putty in her hands, in between your legs already called for her. Her hand was slowly running up your thigh, no time was waiting.
"Ellie... I have to make dinner!" You stated, hand grabbing on to the counter for leverage.
"You said 20 minutes right??" She asked, watching as you gave her a small nod. "I can make you cum at least 3 times before...."
Those words made you weak, you could feel the wet spot on your underwear grow more and more. Ellie sucked and bit at your neck, leaving small bruises. Her hand made it all the way to your thigh, feeling the wet spot. She gave a cocky grin, knowing she was the one doing that.
"Besides, dinner can wait..." She paused, moving her hand that rested on your waist to your chest, grabbing at your flesh softly. " Well, you pussy seems to think so." She teased.
You let out a small groan, letting go of the spoon you had been holding too grab at her hand that was grabbing at your boobs. You usually would give her a hard time, tease her as much as she teases you but right now... your hormones were everywhere and your body was so different than it was, you just couldn't fight back your desire for her.
She took a few steps back, taking you back with her so you were safely away from the stove before moving your panties to the side. She started off small with her movements, placing two fingers on your clit, circling them around to send small moments of pleasure to your core.
You moaned into the air, the increased sensitivity of your body changing made the movements feel more intense than they once were. Your head moved back to capture her lips in a kiss, while her fingers worked on the little bud between your folds.
The kiss was passionate, no teeth clashing or sloppy tongue action but like two puzzle pieces being perfect for each other. Your head craned back, wanting more of her lips and you were honestly afraid of breaking your neck but it just felt so good.
Ellie's hand on your chest pulled down your dress, releasing our boobs into the cold air. She was just able to pull it down to your waist but that was enough access for her. She grabbed at one of your boobs, playing with the sensitive nipple.
She watched as you gasped into her mouth, eyes slightly rolling back into your head. She took that as a cue to shove two fingers inside of you, thumb still rubbing at your clit. You couldn't last too much longer and she knew it, everything felt so different from your not pregnant body so she had to treat it differently.
Your walls immediately clamped around her finger, the knot in your body ready to explode. You grabbed on to her, one hand on her arm and the other moving back to grab her thigh to balance yourself. It all happened so fast and you didn't even know it was happening until waves of pleasure were sent all over your body and your juice dripped onto ellies hand.
Some strangled moans left your mouth, as your body felt like it was on fire and your stomach did twist and turns. You tried to catch your breath, wincing as Ellie took her fingers out of you. Ellie allowed you to slowly come down from you high, knowing she was not done with you yet.
"Sorry I came so fast...." You breathed out, moving to fix your dress back before Ellie pulled you back to her.
"Who said I'm done with you.." She spoke, moving her hand down to her jeans before pulling out the strap.
You gasped at the feeling of it, feeling it hit your lower back. You couldn't help but feel pathetic at the fact you were still so fucking horny even though you already came once, you felt greedy but you ddin't care.
"I said 3 times right?" She spoke, not asking but telling you.
You bit your lip at the tone of her voice, feeling your cunt flutter and drip onto your now soaked underwear. Your cheeks were red along with the flush skin of your chest from Ellie grabbing at your tender boobs.
Ellie pulled you closer to her, standing you still while she pulled your dress all the way down to your ankles. The feeling of her being fully dressed and you being completely naked, the degradation of it making your legs shake more than they already were. You were in nothing but your underwear that were pushed to the side and ellies hands settling down on your hips.
Ellie spread your legs a tad, moving a finger to slide through your folds. You winced a tad, overstimulated slightly but so ready to be fucked once again. Ellie got you nice and wet, lining up the strap to your puffy folds.
"Do you need anything? Water? Or do you want to sit down? i co..." She started but wasn't able to finish her sentence
"Jesus Christ ellie just fuck me already." You interrupted, moving your hips back to try to fuck yourself on the strap.
Ellie chuckled but you didn't have to tell her twice, she slowly inserted the strap but that wasn't until you moved your hips back and forth. The action of you fucking yourself on the strap made her stumble back slightly, hitting the sink so her back was flush against it.
You didn't have a set speed, you sped up and then slowed down just whatever felt the best at the moment. Ellie watched as you sunk down onto it, watching it go in and out of you. She was getting a little antsy, wanting to thrust in and out of you while holding you down on the cabinet.
Oh how she wanted to fuck you so hard, but you were fragile at the moment so she let you take your time. Instead she placed her hands on your hips, helping you push your weight onto her. Your thighs were burning, the way you had to push yourself back onto her gave you a legit work out.
You held onto Ellie’s hands, forcing your body back down onto her. You could feel yourself inching closer and closer each thrust, each thrust also came more frustration on your part. The feeling of running after an orgasm but not being fit enough to reach it out made you wanna scream.
You hair was falling in front of your face as you leaned over to try to fuck yourself harder on the strap, trying to get at the best angle as well. You were just genuinely uncomfortable but so motivated to get off that you didn’t care that your body was hurting.
Ellie noticed the tension in your body, feeling your frustration as you desperately tried to get off. That’s when she stepped in, stopping you for a minute to lean you on the cabinet next to her. Only your chest on the cabinet, your elbows holding you up.
“Lemme take care of you hun...” she started, lining the strap back up. “Just sit back and look pretty for me okay.”
She took home on your hips once more and dove back into you, hitting an angle that you wanted to get too but couldn’t. She went at the same pace as before, rough and hard but taking small breaks in between to check if you were hurting.
You grabbed onto the counter with dear life, the cold counter against your flush skin making you shiver slightly. She was prominent and very skilled, feeling every single inch of the strap inside of you.
“Fuck... Ellie... I-“ you could feel yourself clamping around her, your walls fluttering and tensing up ready to release.
She knew you could last longer, your strangled groans and small cruises dropped hints to her. Her twisted a hand in your hair, something she knew you liked, pulling it slightly while you thrust your hips back to hers.
You lifted yourself off the counter now holding yourself up with your hands, holding yourself as steady as you possibly could for Ellie. You could feel it rip through your body. You jerked your body flush against Ellie’s, back all the way pressed against her chest.
Ellie snaked a hand to your boobs and the other drawing soft circles in your clit. You threw your head onto her shoulder, mouth shaped into an O shape as you came with a loud moan.
“Come on baby.... cum on my cock..” she whispered, thrusting her hips into you harshly.
You were seeing stars at this point, holding on to Ellie for dear life as she fucked you through your orgasm. Ellie kissed up your jaw, catching your lips into a kiss while slowing down her movement. Your body had stopped jerking only to be left legit shaking.
Ellie pulled the strap out of you, still holding you up with one hand. You were out of breath, shaking violently in her arms as she comforted you back into your body. She moved a hand through your hair, peppering your neck with kisses as you slowly came back to your body.
“Do you need anything?” She whispered, pressing a small kiss to the shell of your ear.
You turned around in her arms, bringing her into a kiss. Your hands immediately made their way into her hair, her hands absentmindedly went to your hips. It had got a cold in the house but you both were heated up.
“I’m okay Ellie, the baby's good, I’m not thirsty, I don’t need to sit...” you said, knowing exactly the same questions she would ask. It warmed your heart to see she cared but holy shit you were so wound up. “I was promised 3 orgasms.... so please just shut up and fuck me.”
That was so fucking hot to her, you taking what you wanted without a care in the world was something she couldn’t handle. She brought you into a sloppy kiss, holding your head in place as she walked you back into the counter.
She pressed you against the counter, leg up against your bare cunt that was so overstimulated right now but you somehow wanted more. She lifted one of your legs up around her waist and you helped do the other until you were fully seated on the counter.
Your legs dangled down, spread wide open so Ellie could place herself in between them comfortably. Her hands sat on your thighs, squeezing both of them softly. Your hands wrapped around her neck, bringing her so close to you.
This is what heaven would feel like if there was one, fucking on the counter of your dream farmhouse while pregnant with Ellie’s child (Figuratively). It’s what pure light and sweet dreams felt like wrapped in one.
You wrapped your legs around Ellie’s waist, hinting at wanting her to fuck you finally. Ellie lined it up with your cunt, running it up and down your slit a few times before pushing it all the way in.
You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim once more, throwing your head back onto the cabinet as Ellie thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace.
Ellie watched as your back arched up, causing your boobs to bounce every single thrust. This view made her mouth water, you being fucked under candle light. She leaned down to attach her lip to one of your boobs.
You grabbed a fist full of her hair to keep her there for a moment, feeling pleasure from two sensitive areas of your body could send you flying off the edge once more. You let multiple moans out, one after the other.
The house was full of them, bouncing off every wall until they made it back to Ellie’s ears. Ellie went deeper, trying to hit that spot that made you see stars. Ellie watched as your eyebrows knitted together, head pointed up to the ceiling as your mouth formed an O once more.
You were once again so close, tired walls fluttering against the strap. Your overstimulated cunt burning at the sensation of another earth shattering orgasm. Ellie lifted her head up to coax you through it, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses on your fully exposed neck.
“Come on baby, cum on my cock one more time....” she encouraged you, speeding up once more. “I know you can do it, make that pretty little cunt cum all over my cock huh.”
Those dirty words, words that made your body tingle every time you heard them. You grabbed onto Ellie once again, squeezing her hand as the knot in your stomach finally snapped once again.
You could feel how your juices spilled all over the counter, probably making a big wet mess. Pleasure courses through your body, making you jerk violently. Your nails dug into Ellie roughly, most likely leaving bruises.
Ellie once again fucked you through your orgasm but slowed down slightly, kissing up your neck. Your entire body collapsed, no more strength to try to get down.
You could smell the burning of your soup, the awful smell wafting through the air. It had been a little over 20 minutes, probably more than 30 minutes even. It was slightly bright outside when you started but now it was pitch black, candles were the only thing lighting your way.
Ellie planted another kiss on your lips, caressing your belly to comfort you. You kissed back, just wanting to go to bed at this point.
“Well the soup is burnt... So what do you wanna do for dinner??” You asked, looking at how the soup smoked.
Ellie looked back as well, seeing as it was literally almost black. She chuckled a bit, turning back to you and shrugging.
“I mean we have left over cake from the baby shower.... can't let it go to waste.” She said, watching as you gave her a big grin.
“Hmmm... I think you sound much better than cake.” You joked, well it really wasn’t a joke. You just came 3 times and she at least deserved to get eaten out.
“I swear you got knocked up and now you're just a little horn dog.” Ellie rolled her eyes, slipping out of you before handing you your dress.
“Hey corn dogs kinda sounds good??” You joked, hopping down from the cabinet almost falling down on your way.
“You are too much.” She laughed, pulling you back into a quick kiss.
You wrapped your arms around her neck once more, smiling into the kiss as her hands roamed down you your ass giving it a quick squeeze.
"Well cake and burnt vegetables for dinner i guess." You sighed out, between kisses.
The only thing y'all will be eating tonight is each other at this point.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fanfic#tlou ellie#ellie williams#the last of us part two#the last of us x reader#the last of us pt ii#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#the last of us#mom!ellie
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Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)
AO3 Link Here!
Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k
Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin
Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.
A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”
A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.
“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly.
“Surprise?” He said softly.
“What are you doing here?”
Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.
“Did I wake you?”
Yoongi hesitated. “No.”
Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”
“We’ve been texting.”
Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.
“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”
Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes.
The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it.
“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.
“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in.
“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.
“I’m fine.”
Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”
Yoongi blinked at him.
“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”
“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”
“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light.
Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped.
“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.
“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”
“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.
“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”
“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”
“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi.
“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“I’m a monster.”
“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.
“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”
Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.
Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze.
Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied.
“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.
“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”
“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward.
“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”
Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”
“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.
“I am.”
“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”
Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”
Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”
“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.
“Do you drink blood?”
“Of course I do.”
“Human?”
“When I can.”
“From live people?”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”
Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”
Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.
“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”
Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”
Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.
“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”
“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”
“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”
Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”
“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.”
“Jimin, I’m gonna…”
Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”
“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”
“Would it turn me into a vampire?”
“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”
Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”
“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.
Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”
“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”
“Which is why you’re so pale too.”
Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”
“R… Resting place?”
“My coffin.”
Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”
“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”
“That you sleep in?”
“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.”
Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed.
“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.
“No… Is there anything else different?”
“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”
“Yeah, a few.”
“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”
“Harder.”
Yoongi nodded.
Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”
“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”
Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”
“Yes.”
“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.
“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”
“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”
Jimin nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”
Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”
“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”
“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”
Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet.
“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.
“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?”
“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”
“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”
Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”
Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”
“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”
“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”
“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”
Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”
Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”
“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”
“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.”
Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.
Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”
Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”
“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified.
Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”
“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”
“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”
“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”
Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”
Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed.
“We can do it today?”
“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”
“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”
“Of course.”
“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”
Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”
“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”
“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”
Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”
Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently.
“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”
“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”
“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered.
Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush.
“Oh wow…”
Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way.
Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.
Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”
“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”
“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom.
“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently.
Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric.
Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning.
Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself.
When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted.
Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person.
A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.
He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length.
“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.
Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene.
“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”
He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.
“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”
He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach.
“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.
“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.
“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.”
He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it.
“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts.
Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep.
“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”
“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”
“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”
Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.
Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device.
Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.
As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.
“It’s sore,” he whined.
“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.
On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.
Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.
“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…”
Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.
“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”
Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.
On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back.
“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”
The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.
Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.
“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.
“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.
“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts.
Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder.
“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.
“Yes—“
“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”
“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned.
“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him.
The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.
“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.
“No regrets? Still okay with it?”
“Fully… You?”
“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”
Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”
“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”
“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”
“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”
“I know it can be frightening.”
“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged.
“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”
Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.
“Hm?”
“I feel gross.”
“Because of what we did?”
“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”
Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”
“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”
They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”
“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”
“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human.
“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”
“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”
“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered.
Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.
“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”
Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”
Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms.
#thebtswritersclub#yoonmin#jimin x yoongi#yoongi x jimin#jimin smut#yoongi smut#jimin#yoongi#mywriting
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Are you Really Okay?- Kaz Brekker
I am in no way trying to romanticize depression or suicidal ideations. I’ve dealt with them my entire life and it’s been no easy feat, and I know several others who’ve dealt with them the same. I am merely basing this off my own experiences and how I’ve dealt with it when things have gotten tough in the past, this is in no way meant to put down others who’ve had different experiences to me.
Trigger warning- talk of depression, suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideations. If you are sensitive to those topics, for your safety, I advise that this be a work of mine that you stay away from.
Fic type- angst t
Warnings- mentions of Kaz’s trauma
Kaz couldn’t understand what’d happened. A few weeks before, you’d seemed fine. You were smiling, laughing with Inej and joking with Jesper. You’d gone to every meal, ate every last bit of your food. In between bites, you indulged Jespers talk of his guns, talked to Wylan about his flute, spoke with Kaz about a plan for a heist. You were okay.
But that’d been the weeks before. That hadn’t been the two months it took to plan the heist, or the heist itself.
The first thing that ticked him off that day was your failure to meet everyone for breakfast. You never missed out on a good meal, especially not when good conversation came with it, and Kaz had sent Rotty up to your room to see what’d happened.
Rotty came up empty, with just a note in his hand. In the note, you’d apologized, but promised to be on time to the first rendezvous point. Kaz wouldn’t reprimand you for it. He knew you’d come and go as you pleased, whether or not you had his permission to do so, so there really was no point in reprimanding and starting a fight.
The heist went well, as they normally did, but you didn’t go out for the victory dinner, either. He’d gone, but as the six of them walked, slowly, back to The Slat, Kaz made sure to ask Inej what the hell had been up with you, see if she knew anything.
Inej, to his delight, hadn’t come up empty. “They have depression,” she’d said. “I can’t explain it, though. I just have a baseline understanding.”
“Tell me,” Kaz demanded. “I want to know what’s wrong. They’ve been off for weeks now.”
“Careful, Brekker,” Nina taunted. “Keep going the way that you are, it might start to sound like you actually care!”
“He doesn’t,” Jesper quipped, and for once, Kaz found himself grateful for Jesper and his constant need to be involved in conversations. “They’re not more than an investment to him. Isn’t that right, Kaz?” He said nothing, just glanced at Inej expectantly.
“They’re sad,” Nina input before Inej got the chance. “Isn’t that what it is?”
“It’s technically defined as a severe feeling of despondency and dejection, actually,” that was Wylan. “It’s coupled with a constant feeling of sadness, emptiness and not wanting to do what might’ve once peaked their interest.”
“It goes along with suicidal thoughts, too,” Inej spoke. “And ideations. They go hand in hand. You can’t treat one without also treating the other.” Kaz felt tempted to run the rest of the way back to The Slat, all the way up to your room and demand why you’d not told him, but he resisted.
“They should’ve gotten their meds refilled a while ago, though,” Inej matched the pace when Kaz began to move just a bit quicker. “I don’t know why they haven’t, to be completely candid.”
The rest of the way back, Nina and Matthias conversed with Inej and Jesper and Wylan laughed so loud they almost woke the city up, but Kaz kept quiet, his brain overtaken with questions.
Why haven’t they told me? He thought. Why didn’t I know? I care about them, don’t I? And isn’t that a bit of a crucial detail?
It slowly began to make sense to him. The red rimmed eyes some mornings, coupled with puffy cheeks, it should’ve been clear to him that you’d cried at some point through the night while he slept. The bags under your eyes slowly becoming more pronounced as you began to stay awake later; your reluctance to tell him anything, despite how close you were. All the meals you’d missed.
Your smile.
You’d stopped smiling so much.
Kaz missed it. The sound of your laugh circulating through the room, your smile that managed to brighten his entire day.
He felt like an idiot for not seeing the signs when they were right there, seemingly right in front of his face. He could’ve helped you, could’ve made sure you stayed on track with the medication, he could’ve done so much, and yet, as he walked, he felt as though he’d done so little. It infuriated him.
When the six of them had arrived back at The Slat, he turned to Inej. “I’m going to go up to their room,” he whispered. “See how they’re doing.” Inej tossed him a smile.
“You do care, don’t you?” She asked, already knowing the answer.
“Only a little,” Kaz murmured, almost hating that he admitted it to someone other than himself. “I just want to make sure that they’re okay.”
“And if they aren’t?” Matthias’ voice almost sounded like a scold. “What will you do then, demjin? Comfort them from a doorway?”
“Matthias!” Nina scolded. “Let Kaz do his thing, okay? You don’t know Y/N like he does. He’ll comfort them in whatever way he sees fit.” Kaz shot a grateful nod at Nina as he made his way over to the stairs and up to your room.
After a quick break in front of your door to catch his breath, he knocked three times.
“Come in,” you called, but your voice had waivered. “Just a moment, though, okay? I have to clean some things up!” Kaz went in anyway, opening the door just enough to slide in and closing it using his back.
“Brekker,” you whispered, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. Kaz noticed scarring, but he decided not to say anything. “Hello.”
“Are you okay?” He asked, not at all caring that he was being so blunt. “Are you really okay, Y/N?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” you murmured as you went around the room, plucking laundry off the floor and putting trash into the small trash bin you kept beside your bed. “Why are you asking if I’m okay when I’ve done nothing to say otherwise?”
“You’ve missed meals. You’re slower than normal. You smile less,” part of him wants to reach out, take your hand in his and rub your knuckles with his thumb and be a man who can touch another human being without issue, but he knows it’s unrealistic.
“Well, forgive me for thinking that The Bastard of The Barrel wouldn’t pick up on how many times I smiled throughout the run of a day,” you quipped. “The heist was done just fine. We all got our shares of the money, and we all returned unscathed. I fail to see why you’ve put so much effort into caring.”
“Because it’s you,” he whispered.
“I’m just another investment, Brekker. You’re welcome to stop caring now. I’m going to sleep, and I’d as soon do it without the knowledge that your back is pressed against my door.”
“You’re more than an investment,” he whispered. “I care about you. I want to know when somethings wrong. Depression isn’t the kind of thing you keep from me, Y/N.”
“I’ve kept it from you just fine, Kaz,” you shot back, wiping at your eyes. “I’ve been able to live with it since I was a kid without issue, without you noticing, so why notice now? Is it because I’ve been slower? Because I’ve slept in and missed breakfast? Because I’ve not felt the motivation to get and up and do what we do everyday?”
“It’s because I care, Y/N,” he took a step toward you as you set to making the small bed that you slept on.
“How many times have you considered climbing to the roof and jumping off it?” You winced at the question, and Kaz felt his heart clench for a single moment in time.
“Are you asking me if I’m suicidal, Brekker?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes, I think about it. I think about going down to Fifth Harbor, jumping into the lake and swimming until the bottom is so far down that I wouldn’t be able to reach it without drowning,” Kaz moved to sit on the bed next to you, keeping a little distance.
“When I take my meds, I’m not even happy,”
“So what are you?”
“Numb. I don’t feel anything. All of the pain goes away, but so does the happiness. The joy. The smiles.” Kaz winced. He’d gone through enough days without getting a smile from you or hearing your laugh that he was almost completely sure another of them might’ve been his breaking point.
“And without your medication?”
“Highs and lows. Mostly lows, unfortunately. Depressive episodes, no motivation. Without my meds, my emotions are a tsunami and my conscious mind is the city that it runs through.”
“How can I help?”
“This is helping,” you admit. “It’s just--I’ve talked with Wylan and Jesper about it before, but neither of them ever have anything to say about any of it. They’re understanding, but sometimes, it just...”
“Wylan says things that’d come off a motivation quote poster and Jesper cracks a joke?” Kaz questions.
You laughed then, and Kaz, completely and utterly unsure of himself, wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
For a couple of long lasting seconds, he was there again. In the barge, with Jordies slippery, slimy body beneath him as he kicked his way back to shore, but then he glanced at you. Saw the fear in your eyes as you registered what he’d done, trying to study him and figure out if you’d crossed a boundary, but all Kaz did was nod.
“I’m okay, L/N,” he whispered. “I’m fine.”
You two stayed like that for a long, long time, until both of your eyes fluttered closed and sleep dragged you under.
#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#six of crows#shadow and bone#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#matthias helvar#nina zenik#wylan van eck
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A Favor: Part Seventeen
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: 70% of this fic is written on my phone lying on my side in bed while using swipe typing bc im too lazy to type out words and it shows
TW: discussion of SA
***
Nesta has an easier time adjusting to a third person in the cabin than she thought she would. Maybe it’s because Azriel indeed minds his business, and half the time Nesta isn’t aware he’s there at all.
Cassian seems to be more irritated by it than anyone else—not his brother, of course, but the fact that he and Nesta no longer exist in their own little bubble. Which is how he ends up at Nesta’s apartment with an overnight bag, sprawled out stomach-down on her mattress while she gets ready for bed.
“TV show or movie?” he asks, clicking through her laptop. Shows are Nesta’s thing and movies are Cassian’s; she feels generous enough tonight to say, “Movie.”
“Thank god,” he mutters, typing something on the laptop. “There’s a Turkish horror flick that I was saving for you.”
“Where do you even find these films?” Grabbing her hairbrush, she flops onto the bed beside him and starts brushing out her brassy locks. Before he can answer, Nesta’s phone buzzes from the stool she uses as a bedside table. Feyre’s name flashes on the screen.
Nesta frowns, but picks up without a second thought. “What is it?”
“Nothing serious,” her sister replies. “Just checking in.”
Before Cassian, Nesta didn’t very much understand the purpose of “checking in” without reason. Now she empathizes with Feyre a little. “I’m fine,” she says.
Deciding she can do better than that, she adds, “Cassian and I are about to start a movie.”
“Is it his choice? I’m so sorry for you.”
Nesta peeks over to where Cassian is still intently searching for his obscure movie and smiles a little. “I like Turkish horror,” she replies.
Cassian overhears and grins approvingly.
“Well, I’m looking at wedding dresses with Rhys so he can prepare for when he inevitably proposes,” Feyre says. “In case you wanted to know.”
Nesta did not particularly want to know, but she doesn’t say this. “Sounds fun. Is that it?”
“For what?”
“This conversation.”
Feyre sighs over the line. “Yes, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for picking up.”
The bar is in hell, Nesta thinks. Mostly because she put it there, but she still feels embarrassed to be congratulated over such small things. “Thanks for keeping it short.”
She’s about to hang up when she hears a male voice speak up in the background, and Feyre interrupts, “Wait—before you go, can you tell Cassian to call Rhys back? He wants Cass’s help picking a new team leader for the Italy project.”
Nesta has no idea what that is, but she says, “Sure, fine.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.
“What’d she want?” Cassian says without looking over at her.
“She said Rhys wants you to call him about the Italy project.”
Cassian turns toward her, half sitting up. “Really? What for?”
“Something about picking a team leader.” She returns to brushing her hair. “Why? What’s the Italy project?”
“Something I thought we put aside for good,” he grumbles. “It’s a year-long overseas project in Milan. Rhys thinks it’s gonna bring in a shit ton of money.”
“Sounds big. What do you have to do with it, though?” She’s never heard of Cassian being involved in Night Court’s international operations, even though he takes on more work than the usual employee.
Cassian shrugs, going back to movie searching. “He wanted me to be the one leading the team, and I guess he still feels petty about me turning him down. Honestly, choosing team leaders outside of my department isn’t even part of my jurisdiction.”
Nesta hesitates. “He offered you the job? When?” She didn’t know this.
“On New Year’s.”
“And you turned it down?”
“Yeah.” Cassian clicks on a link that looks like it’ll plant fifteen different viruses in Nesta’s laptop. “Found the movie,” he says.
“Why would you do that?” Nesta demands.
“The movie?”
“The job offer! Why would you turn down such a big opportunity without even telling me?”
Cassian laughs in confusion. “Are you angry right now?”
She’s astonished at his nonchalance. “Cassian,” she says. “It’s Italy.”
Italy with the art and history and seaside beauty—it’s on their top five places to see before they die.
“It’s Milan,” he says like there’s a difference, “and it’s an entire year away from you.” He shakes his head, sitting up to face her. “Are you out of your mind?”
She goes still. “Don’t tell me you said no because of me.”
“Of course I said no because of you.”
“It’s your dream job!” she bursts. “Traveling, exploring, being on your own—”
“Those are our dreams. I made those plans with you. The hell am I supposed to do all the way in Italy without you?”
“You sound codependent,” she retorts.
He narrows his brows. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position?”
He’s right, of course. Nesta would do the exact same thing for him. But Nesta and Cassian are not the same, and they both know it. “You can’t make that comparison,” she sighs.
“Why not?” he demands.
“Because—” She struggles to put it into words. “I would give up a long distance job for you because it would be worth it. You’re worth it. It doesn’t work the other way around.”
“Again: why the fuck not?”
So he’s really going to make her spell it out. “Because you’re a good boyfriend. You’re affectionate and caring, you always go the extra mile for those you love, and you come with all these free perks. It’s a great deal. And I’m not anything terrible, but I’m the bare minimum compared to you. Why would you give up Italy for the bare minimum?”
Cassian looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t even know how you can say so many wrong things in a row.”
“He’s blinded by love,” Nesta mutters to herself.
“First of all,” he holds up a finger, “I don’t know where you learned to compare yourself to me, but I don’t like it. You make it sound like I need to be paid back for every half-decent thing I do, and that is not the case at all.”
“Of course you think that,” she says. “You wouldn’t be a good person if you didn’t.”
“Then let me be a blunt person.” He puts a hand on her knee and looks her in the eye. “You will never be like me. Very few people are; you can’t take it personally.”
“Oh my god.” Her eyes might roll out of her head.
“But you’re not the bare minimum. Not even close.” He states it like an undeniable fact.
“How so?” she challenges.
“Like how Elain told me about this boy who broke her heart in her high school, and how the next day he walked into class in a leg cast. And how she just knew you had something to do with it, and you two had a huge fight about it that lasted a week.”
Nesta does not enjoy that memory being brought up. Elain called her a psychopath for the incident, and to save her feelings, Nesta (rather unconvincingly) said it had been an accident.
“I didn’t push anybody into a creek,” she maintains the lie. “Sometimes people just fall down there.”
“To be fair, you’re a lot more stable now than you were then. Now when people hurt those you care about, you find sneakier ways to hurt them back. Don’t you?”
“I do not,” Nesta defends.
“Really? Because Eris texted me earlier saying you’ve been ignoring him since New Year’s, and he’s starting to get worried that you have something heinous planned for him. I asked him why he would ever think such a thing of you.” Cassian leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Why would he think such a thing of you, Nesta?”
Cassian looks pretty well off from here, doesn’t he? She remembers Eris’s smug face. Did you know Rhysand’s parents found him sleeping in the streets?
“Because he said a bad thing,” Nesta says, looking down at her fingernails. “And I have an unfortunate reputation at school for getting back at people who say bad things.” Like the time Brian O’Connell made jokes about a rape trial the class was studying, and then couldn’t find an internship at a single firm the following summer.
“And what did he say? Because I can’t imagine he would directly insult you. He actually likes you, ass that he is.” His face is warm so close to her neck.
She looks away. “I won’t repeat it.”
That seems to be all Cassian needs to get an idea of what Eris said. “And how long are you planning on holding it against him?”
“Forever.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Nesta meets the eyes that haven’t left her face this entire time and snorts. “What’s your point?” Seriously, she’s starting to redden at how close he is.
He buries his face in her neck, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there. “The point is that you also do a lot for the people you love. Just in a different way.” He pulls away to look her in the eye. “Don’t do anything to Eris, though,” he says. “Not that I care for him or his shit opinions, but whatever you have planned isn’t worth it.”
Nesta wants to scoff in disbelief at the sincerity on Cassian’s face. He’s always choosing kindness, even at the worst moments. “So that’s your argument?” she says. “You won’t go to Italy because your girlfriend has a bad temper and a taste for revenge?”
“That’s my final argument, Your Honor.” He takes her hand. “Forget Milan, will you? One day I’ll take you to Portofino.”
The longer Nesta knows Cassian, the more she finds it useless to hide from him. Which is why she lets him watch the thoughts flit across her face as she considers his words, deciding whether she believes him. Deciding whether he’s right to give her so much devotion.
“Fine,” she finally says. “You’re right.”
A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes he won. Wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and legs, he hauls her into his lap and shifts around until they’re both comfortable. The movie is forgotten for now.
“Out of curiosity…” He noses at the nape of her neck. “What did Eris say about me to make you so angry?”
When Nesta doesn’t answer, he says, “I’ve already heard everything that could possibly be said. The shit that used to get me when I was eighteen doesn’t have the same hold on me a decade later.”
She lets herself relax into his hold. “It was about the time you spent as an orphan.” Technically, he’s still an orphan, but it was different back then. “I didn’t like the tone of his voice.”
Cassian’s answering hum is a low rumble against her shirt. “Did you know my biological father was from Italy?”
Nesta perks up at that. “No.” She assumed he was entirely Algerian, even though he and Azriel probably look ethnically ambiguous to most. “Isn’t that all the more reason to see Italy someday?”
“Not at all,” he says. “If I could pretend that half of me didn’t exist, I would.”
She can’t think of a response that doesn’t involve a question, so she doesn’t reply. She waits for Cassian to speak on his own terms.
“I went to Italy once,” he admits. “For less than a day while my brothers were partying in Monte Carlo. I was young and stupid, and thought I would never be complete if I didn’t know who my father was.”
“Who was he?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering.
“No one worth remembering,” Cassian says, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. “I put some dots together and realized how he and my mother must have met, how he must’ve—forced himself on her, and I decided that I didn’t care about bloodlines at all. I never returned to Italy after that.”
Nesta’s hands want to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But her muscles are suddenly very cold, and she can only stiffen. “And what about now? Do you… not want to go back?”
“It’s just a place to me,” he says. “Nothing special, nothing terrible. But I like the way it sounds when you talk about it.” His eyes sparkle. “I’d like to pretend it’s my first time going with you.”
“Alright, then.” She nods. “One day, we’ll go together. It’ll be our first time.”
***
Cassian refuses to let Nesta leave bed the next morning, dragging his heavy mouth across her body whenever she tries to get up. She’s about to surrender to him altogether when her phone starts vibrating loudly, insistently.
Breaking away from Cassian’s attempt at cuddling, she answers without checking the caller ID. “Yes?” she croaks sleepily.
“Where the hell have you been?” Emerie demands.
Nesta shoves Cassian away despite his protests, untangling her legs from the sheets. “At home,” she says, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”
“We haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Emerie says. “Gwyn thought your boyfriend’s weird family killed you.”
“That’s not what happened,” Nesta assures, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet. “I just needed some alone time.” People are all around her these days, it seems. Her body still can’t quite adjust to it.
“Well, have you had enough—are you peeing?”
“Yeah.” She wipes and flushes the toilet.
“Well, clear your day and kick your sorry boyfriend out of your place. I can’t remember the last time I went out.”
“Why does everybody always want to go out?” Nesta says as she washes her hands. “What’s wrong with staying in, being safe, never leaving the house?” She dries her hands on a towel and returns to the bedroom, where Cassian is now sitting up and checking his emails.
“You’re preaching to the choir, but this actually wasn’t my idea,” Emerie says.
Nesta and Cassian alert at the sound of a knock from the front door. Nesta never has uninvited guests.
“Hold on a second, Em,” she says, jogging up the short set of steps to the door. She opens it to the sight of an exasperated-looking Gwyn.
“Jeez, next time send a text that you’re alive, will you?” Gwyn says, shoving past Nesta to enter the apartment. “Do you know how worried I’ve been—” She halts midsentence, one foot hovering above a step as she realizes that Nesta isn’t alone. As she sees Cassian in her bed, bare-chested and highly amused.
“Hey.” He raises a hand in greeting.
Gwyn pales.
“Hello?” Emerie calls over the line.
“You girls both share the same brain,” Nesta sighs. “Let me call you back, Emerie.”
Gwyn whirls around just as Nesta hangs up. “That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly, looking embarrassed. “I’ll be outside. I’m sorry.”
She hurries out of the apartment even faster than she came in, ducking her head to hide her face.
Nesta tosses her arms up in the air. “Great,” she says to Cassian. “Your abs scared her away.”
“But I didn’t do anything—”
She shuts the door behind her as she follows Gwyn outside, barefoot and all. She barely notices the freezing cold air or the awful press of damp grass beneath her feet as she catches up to Gwyn and grabs her elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Gwyn jerks suddenly, yanking out of Nesta’s hold. Her breathing seems a little shallow, and she looks even more embarrassed for it. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know you had someone over.”
“Cassian? He’s cool, you don’t need to be weird about him,” she tries to reassure Gwyn. “Though I did use to tell him that not everybody wants to see him shirtless all the time.”
“It’s not that,” Gwyn says, waving her off.
Nesta gestures to the apartment. “Do you want to come back inside, then? I’m sure he has clothes on by now.”
Gwyn clears her throat uncomfortably and looks down. “I’d rather not. I’m—I don’t like being around men.”
Nesta pauses, not sure if she heard right. “Like, in a ‘check the backseat of your car before getting in’ way, or…?”
“No, like I can’t be alone in a room with a man without feeling sick. It activates my fight or flight, it’s weird.” She’s carefully stiff, like she’s ready to be met with humiliation.
Nesta remembers that Gwyn has never told her about her therapy sessions before, but she knows they’re more intensive than her own weekly conversations with Lana.
“Not that I think your boyfriend is a bad person,” Gwyn adds when Nesta doesn’t respond. “He looks really nice. He sounds nice, too.”
But Nesta doesn’t care about any of that. Unsure of what to do next, she reaches out and awkwardly pats Gwyn on the arm. “Good thing you’ve never been to the cabin, then. Cassian’s brother is staying…” She trails off when she realizes none of this is relevant. “Why are you here so early?” she asks instead.
Gwyn eases up a little at the change in subject. “I missed you. We’ve barely talked since Christmas.”
Nesta didn’t realize people would take such notice to her absence. “Yeah.” She flushes. “I do that sometimes. I’ll send a message next time I go into hibernation, though.”
“You’re freezing,” Gwyn suddenly scolds, noticing how Nesta’s goosebumped arms are wrapped tightly around herself. She unzips her red hoodie and shrugs it off. “Go back inside and get dressed.” She flings the hoodie around Nesta’s shoulders before Nesta can protest. “Meet me at my car. We’re hanging out.”
Nesta knows that a last minute change of events is not the end of the world, even if it sometimes feels like it. For Gwyn and Emerie, she can bear the discomfort of unexpected plans, same as she does for Cassian. But she at least has to know: “How long will we be out?”
“You can come home after lunch.” At Nesta’s face, Gwyn adds, “Lunch will be at two and shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
Looking her friend up and down, someone who has such an easy time understanding her, Nesta nods in satisfaction. She turns around to go back inside.
***
They end up at the library where Gwyn works, in the stacks of the long-abandoned encyclopedia section.
Emerie takes a loud sip from the huge McDonald’s soda she snuck in. “So all this show was because Gwyn didn’t want to work her shift alone?”
“I just have some last minute cleanup to do,” she hisses for the third time, shoving an old book back where it belongs. “Go to the porn section if you’re so bored here.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” Emerie says. “But I’m glad that we’re congregating now, even if it’s in the most depressing part of the library. I have a present for you girls.” She hands Nesta her drink so she can dig around in her purse.
Nesta personally has no complaints. The library is quiet, it smells of paper and old ink, and it holds all her favorite books. It’s almost better than staying in.
Emerie successfully pulls out a handful of folded and wrinkled papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can. “One for each of us,” she says, passing the papers around.
Nesta takes her paper and stares at the header. Gwyn is the first to speak. “Pole dancing classes?”
“Why?” Nesta says.
“Well, I originally offered them to Justinian and Isaac but they said no—”
“It’s really not for me,” Gwyn interrupts, trying to pass the registration form back to Emerie. “Sorry.”
Nesta doesn’t give her form back.
“Look,” Emerie says. “I get the hesitation. We’re a handful of boring bitches who hate having fun. But don’t you think that has to change at some point?”
“I’ve known you guys a month,” Gwyn retorts. “We’ve only been boring bitches for a month. This is too much.” She turns to Nesta for help.
Nesta is still staring at the paper. Dancing—on a pole, yes, but it’s still dancing. “I’ll do it,” she says.
Gwyn looks betrayed and Emerie looks elated. “Really?” She hops up and down. “That’s two against one, Gwyn. You have to do it, too.”
Gwyn’s cheeks are turning red in frustration. “You can’t just force this on me—”
“Gwyneth,” a sharp voice interrupts their conversation. Nesta spins around to find a young woman with dark skin and bleached white curls heading in their direction, a stack of books in her arms.
She halts before Nesta and glares. “No food or drink in the library.” She looks pointedly at the 32-ounce in her hand.
“It’s not mine.” Nesta shoves the drink back to Emerie.
But the librarian has turned to Gwyn, who hides the dance class form behind her back. “And what are you doing here?” she demands.
“Just putting up a few books, Merrill,” Gwyn answers quickly.
“While socializing?” the woman named Merrill sneers.
“We were just asking for help finding the romance section. Is that a problem?” Emerie crosses her arms and steps forward, letting a little of her beautiful deadliness slip into her stance. It’s the deadliness of someone at the top of her law class, someone who will graduate in a few months with all the power she could want in the palm of her hand. Nesta gets a rush from playing the lawyer game, too, but she’s never had the kind of ambition that Emerie has. Emerie is a shark sitting around in a small pond.
Merrill is not impressed. She snatches the styrofoam cup dangling from Emerie’s hand and tosses it in the nearby trash can. She turns back to Gwyn. “Hand your badge over and clock out.”
“But I’m not done yet—”
“Now.”
“Okay,” she squeaks. She pulls her ID badge off her neck and hands it to Merrill.
Nesta gapes in disbelief. Before she can speak up, Merrill says, “No loitering in the library. If you don’t have anything you need to check out, leave.” With one final judgmental look, she turns down an aisle of dusty books and disappears.
Gwyn makes a face at her back.
“That woman is not old enough to be acting that misanthropic,” Emerie says after Merrill is gone.
“Whatever,” Gwyn mutters. The registration form is still in her hand. She crumples it into a ball and throws it into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nesta stares at the trash as Gwyn turns to leave. “Coward,” she says.
Gwyn’s head snaps toward Nesta, her auburn hair swinging. “Excuse me?”
She shrugs. “You heard me.” Emerie’s eyes bounce back and forth between the girls.
“I did,” Gwyn says. “I was just making sure this wasn’t coming from the woman who would sooner bite someone’s head off than do something she doesn’t want to.”
“Girls,” Emerie snaps before Nesta can bite back. “It’s just a stupid dance class. I thought it would be fun to do together, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Taking Gwyn by one arm and Nesta by the other, she starts steering them out of the stacks like a stern mother. “Now let’s go eat. I’m fucking hungry.”
Gwyn’s mood from the library doesn’t recover, even as they sit down for lunch at the local diner. Nesta thinks Gwyn might actually be sick when the male waiter winks at her while taking her order, and it’s not until long after he’s gone that color returns to her face. When their food arrives, Gwyn only picks at her plate.
“What’s wrong?” Nesta finally has to ask bluntly. “You look pukey.” Did the coward comment affect Gwyn more than she let on, or was it Merrill’s attitude that threw her off?
At Nesta’s words, Gwyn becomes even more pallid. “I just don’t feel great today,” she murmurs, looking around like she’s seeking a way out of the diner. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to be such a buzzkill. Maybe I should go home early.”
“Absolutely not,” Emerie says. “If you’re going home, we’re going home with you.”
Gwyn bites her lip, trying to decide if she wants that or not. But something about her antsy demeanor is too familiar to Nesta, because she says, “If you really want to be alone, do you mind driving me home first? Emerie’s car is a mess.”
“You just need to move around a few papers,” Emerie protests.
But Gwyn nods distractedly, already gathering her things. “Sure, no problem.” They pay the bill and go their separate ways.
During the ride home, the sky that’s been gray all day finally breaks open, unleashing a spattering of rain over the town. Nesta watches it sprinkle while Gwyn drives in silence.
“Why are you scared of Merrill?” she eventually asks. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”
Gwyn snorts, but there isn’t much heart to it. “Merrill is my superior, but I can handle her on most days.”
“Just not today?”
Gwyn eyes Nesta warily from the corner of her eye. “No, not today. Or this week.”
Nesta chooses not to push. The dull metal of the cars surrounding them glints under the rain, and they arrive at a red light.
After a minute, she takes a breath and blurts, “I’m not always like that around guys, you know.”
Nesta watches her closely, remembering how ghostly she seemed around Cassian, then the waiter. “Keep going.”
Gwyn stares straight at the traffic ahead, her fingers turning bone white on the steering wheel. “I’m just going through a hard period. Everything upsets me and I don’t know how to think straight. It’s like my brain accidentally traveled to the past and now it’s stuck there.” She sounds shaky, breathless, and it makes Nesta wonder what exactly her mind is experiencing.
Nesta knows what it’s like to be unable to move on. Her own brain has only recently started looking toward the future. “Where are you stuck, specifically?” she asks hesitantly. Maybe she can help Gwyn navigate her way out.
Gwyn’s chin quivers. “In a dark room.” Her lips form a tight line. “Being held down. I’m outnumbered.”
Nesta’s stomach turns. “How far back is it?”
“Two years,” Gwyn whispers. “Lately I can’t even look at anything without—remembering it. Thinking about it. Every time I feel like I’m moving past it, I end up being wrong.”
The light turns green, and Nesta puts a hand on Gwyn’s knee in an attempt to ground her. “Drive,” she commands softly.
Gwyn presses down on the accelerator, but Nesta can feel her leg trembling beneath her hand. She squeezes her knee hard. Even with the dark parts of her own past, Nesta has never felt what Gwyn is feeling right now. So she tries to stick to what she knows.
“It’s like you said,” she says carefully. “You’re going through a period where your brain isn’t being friendly to you. It’s horrible, but you can live with the knowledge that it’ll be over eventually.”
Gwyn shakes her head, holding back tears. “It doesn’t work like that. Once it goes away, it’ll just come back again. And it’ll be like that for the rest of my life.”
“You’re right.” Nesta doesn’t have a solution for that, and she hates it. “You’ll never forget. You can be at the peak of your life and still remember all of it. But,” she says slowly, “whether you reach a point where it barely fazes you, or if you keep crippling under the weight of it decades later, you’ll still be normal. You’ll be a perfectly normal human.”
Gwyn lets out a tearful laugh at that. “What does that even mean?”
Shit. “It means…” Nesta tries to explain herself better. “In case you’re worried that there’s something very wrong with you, I’m here telling you that there’s not. There will never be anything wrong with you.”
Gwyn eyes her skeptically as they turn onto a residential road. “Even if I never get past one nightmare I lived years ago? Even if that nightmare defines me until the day I die?”
“That won’t happen.” Nesta’s tone is simple, factual. “But yes, even then.”
“Really? You’re not gonna tell me to live for the better days or whatever?”
“Does that sound like something that would help you? Because I can say it if it does.”
Gwyn snorts. “No.” But her limbs are steady and her eyes are clear on the road. She clears her throat. “Thank you for listening. I think I might feel a little better now.”
“Was it because of what I said?” Nesta tries not to be too hopeful.
“I wouldn’t give you that much credit,” Gwyn says, crushing her hope. “But I’m glad I told you. It makes things…a lot easier for me.” She exhales deeply.
“You know my plate is mostly empty these days.” Nesta pats her knee. “That means I’ll always have room to help carry your shit.”
They pull up to Nesta’s apartment, and Gwyn parks at the curb. “Give me your dance class thing,” she says suddenly.
Frowning, Nesta pulls the wrinkled paper out of her purse and hands it to Gwyn.
Gwyn smooths it out on the steering wheel and grabs a pen from a cupholder, clicking it. “If you’re going to help carry my shit, I guess I have time for pole dancing now.”
“But that’s mine,” Nesta protests as Gwyn starts filling out the form.
“It can be both of ours,” she says, writing Nesta’s name under hers.
“Really?” Nesta grins with an excitement that she doesn’t easily feel. “You’re going to do it with us?”
“Why would I let you do it without me? So I can become the third wheel in our girl group?” She gives Nesta a look that says No way in hell.
Nesta rolls her eyes. “That would never happen to you.”
“Sure,” Gwyn drawls. She finishes the form and folds it in half before pocketing it. “I’ll give this to Emerie as a gift.” She leans over to peck Nesta on the cheek. “Now get home. Love you.”
Nesta turns red at the words and coughs. “Thanks for the ride,” she responds, getting out of the car.
“Say it back!” Gwyn calls after her. But Nesta shuts the door in her face and waves, pretending she can’t hear her. Gwyn mock-scowls at her through the window, but lets her off easy and drives away.
That’s enough feelings for today, Nesta decides. Even if her chest is swelling with emotion for her friend. It’s a sweet hurt that lingers long after she returns to her empty apartment.
***
a/n: i’m back in my no plot, just vibes era
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Hi! It said requests were open so here is one. So pretty much how the brothers would react to an MC who says "I love you" after they had helped them with something. Thats something I do regularly, like someone helps them and they respond with "Oh my gosh I love you, thank you so much!" Cause. Affection. Idk, i just found the idea to be cute.
This is such a cute idea! I hope I pulled it off okay, for some reason Belphie’s is a bit angsty because I like pain I guess, but most of it is fluff! Thank you for your suggestion! 💜
Lucifer
He openly admitted it caught him off guard at first. What he will never admit is how harshly the air escaped from his lungs. Or how quickly his mind went blank at the words.
He had simply brought MC some tea, noticing how hard they had been studying. Working day and night to try to catch up and understand topics demons themselves had spent decades learning. He was proud of them for working so hard. He settled the tea down by them, watching them beam with appreciation.
“Is that for me?”
Their question elicited an amused hum from him. “Is there anyone else in here?”
They wrapped their fingers around it excitedly, entirely grateful. “Ugh, thank you, I love you, I needed this.”
He had been lucky he settled the teacup down before they spoke. Had it remained in his hands, he most assuredly would’ve dropped it, or spilt the contents at the very least. He was not prepared at all. They hadn’t been down here nearly long enough to fall in love with him, right? Was he that alluring? He must’ve done something wrong, he was sure he had been focused solely on being intimidating. He didn’t remember doing anything in particular to elicit such a response. He was flattered, but...maybe--surely-- he had heard incorrectly.
“You…” He blinked a few times as he shoved his emotions into the back of his mind, the silent screaming in his head muffled by his usual calm exterior. “..love me?”
MC covered their mouth with their hands, recognizing his confusion no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “No, no!”
Well now he was a bit irritated, and secretly disappointed even. Were they playing a joke on him?
They stammered and turned more in their seat to look at him. “What I mean is, I just kinda use the term ‘I love you’ as a general term, not an…” They blushed, “..intimate one. I say it all the time to people, I’m really sorry for confusing you. I’ll try not to say it as casually.”
It was a bit unusual to hear something like that thrown around so often, it reminded him of his days in the Celestial Realm, love thrown around at the drop of a hat. The Devildom was a lot less...affectionate. He shook his head, any sign of his surprise now completely gone from view. “Don’t change a harmless habit like that for me, I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ll know now for the future.”
It takes him quite a while to get used to it, taking every ounce of concentration not to blush whenever MC says that they love him. Once he does get used to it, he’s fond of it and may or may not continually go out of his way to perform some simple gesture to encourage them to say it to him more often. It takes even longer after that for him to finally respond with “I love you too” making them stop dead in their tracks, heart fluttering, mouth ajar, much like he did that first day when he brought them a simple cup of tea. He relished the look on their face.
How such a human stirred up these feelings within him is beyond his understanding.
Mammon
He was an open mess when MC first expressed it to him. He’d done what? Just find a pretty rock on the ground? It was shiny and smooth, surely worth a fortune, but when he went to see how much it was worth, it was declared utterly worthless. So he gave it to MC--but only because it was useless okay?! It’s not like he likes MC or anything, that’s not what this is about. Obviously.
He handed it over, acting casual, like it was nothing. Their eyes lit up at it, watching it glint mesmerizing colors in the moonlight, reacting like it might as well have been a diamond. “Whaaat, it’s so cool, I love you, thank you!”
“Don’t say I never do anything for-” It had taken a few seconds to process, but once he realized the words that had come out of their mouth, he went frozen. Rigid. His other brothers might’ve called it a miracle. His jaw was open, his glasses had somehow slipped to the end of his nose, threatening to fall off. He didn’t even blink.
“I’m sorry, I guess demons aren’t quite used to that huh? I use it as a friendly term, I used to say it to my friends all the time back home.”
He was still as stone for a good long time, gradually building up the concern in MC’s chest the more he was reactionless. Had they broken him? Once he finally gathered his one erratic brain cell in order, it was like someone hit a sudden unpause. He quickly puffed out his chest with both his hands on his hips. The explanation they gave him went in through one ear and out the other, as he was still focused on the ‘I love you’.
“Don’t freak me out like that, human, but of- of course if you were to love someone, it’d be me, eh? I don’t blame you, it would be hard to resist the Great Mammon.”
He’ll get a big head about it, strutting around, bragging to anyone who would listen--not that he gave them a say on the matter--that MC expressed they loved him. Doesn’t matter if there were romantic intentions or not, MC loved him, and he wouldn’t let it go. He’ll ignore the fact that MC will say that to most anyone.
“Yeah, well, when they say that about me, it’s different!” Or he’ll put on an act. “Yeah? Not like I care about some dumb human!”
The more he takes time to know MC, the more possessive he acts, and he gets a little bent out of shape anytime MC says ‘I love you’ so casually to anyone other than him. Mostly because he’s greedy for it, he wants those words to be his and his alone. He wants MC to be his...and his alone.
“Oi, MC, you can’t just go saying that to anyone...It’s our thing...you know?” He’ll get endlessly teased about it by everyone in the household, but no matter how much he gets pestered about it, he still wants to hear MC say it.
Only if things get romantic between them, will he be vulnerable with MC. Whenever they’re alone, he’ll get in close, melting against MC’s touch. With MC he can feel these strange and addicting feelings. With his hidden insecurities coming to light, he’ll ask MC the same question every night. “You love me, right? Like...love love me?...I...love love you too.”
Levi
MC had been convinced they gave the poor boy an actual heart attack. Although, to be perfectly fair, almost anything MC does puts Levi in a tizzy. It’s not their fault, he’s just sensitive.
They had been playing games together, nothing too unusual. Together, MC and Levi, the Best Friend Duo, battled an intense match against other real players. It had been close, but with both of their talents combined (admittedly Levi doing a lot of impressive carrying) they managed to strike victorious.
MC felt a rush, their head tingling a bit. They had been on the edge of their seat the whole time, positively exhilarated when they won. “Whoo! That was all thanks to you, Levi! I love you!”
First, MC heard the controller clatter out of his hands. They turned to look at him, his face went completely red, his eyes flicking back and forth out of control, not focusing on anything in particular. He had a hand clutching over his chest. Then to add on top of that, he completely collapsed.
“Levi!” MC’s shout was loud enough to bring some of his other brothers to check the commotion. After a short examination, they declared that Levi was fine, just dazed and lightheaded, although the color in his face refused to go away for quite some time.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I meant it in a friendly way.”
He’ll end up locking himself in his room for days on end after the event, trying to wrap his head around how ‘I love you’ and ‘friendly’ could ever be even remotely the same. That’s not how it’s supposed to go! It’s supposed to be like...like in fiction where both of the love interests are alone, finally having the chance to meet up under a pretty sky, possibly under strenuous circumstances beyond their control, inevitably forcing them to admit their feelings!
He’ll get over it, he always does, but when he comes back he finds out MC now deliberately avoids saying ‘I love you’ to him. They meant it for his own safety, truly, but his Envy is now rubbing away at his normal shy personality.
It'll get to the point where he can’t hold back anymore. “How come you tell everyone else you love them but me!”
“Because last time...you collapsed, and then went MIA for almost a week! I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Is this not what you wanted?”
He ends up using his arm to cover his burning face. “I...I...I...I…” After several more consecutive ‘I’s, Levi finally tells MC that he didn’t want to be treated differently, he wanted MC to tell him that they loved him too. “Because I...lo..lo...lov...I appreciate you, MC!”
MC will chuckle a little, giving him one of his favorite headpats. “I love you too, Levi.” He doesn’t collapse this time, but feels his knees get a little weak. He refuses to remove his arm from his face because now there are fresh tears flooding from his eyes that he doesn’t want MC to see. He loves them too, so much his physical body can’t handle it. Even if he doesn’t have the courage yet to say it, he’ll tell them one day.
Satan
He’s quite angry with himself for how he reacted, which isn’t a huge surprise. He does wish he would’ve handled it better, but he had no idea those three words would be sprung on him so suddenly.
He’s usually quite down to earth, but not even the many romance novels he’s read--and if you tell anyone that he reads gushy romance novels, he will kill you--had prepared him for this. Where was the buildup, the slow rising passion before the eventual confession? Despite occasional temper tantrums and pranking tendencies, he’s truly an old soul. He’s a ‘my dearest, shall we take a stroll, and perhaps, should our shoulders brush, would you permit me a show of boldness, of passion, I dream for the day our fingers intertwine’ kinda guy. So MC’s ‘I love you’ was many chapters early for him.
He’d crossed paths with MC near the front door to the House of Lamentation. MC had just gotten back from RAD, being kept by Diavolo himself. Every one and a while, after classes, Diavolo personally checks up on them to discuss the program. Meanwhile, the demon of wrath was just on his way out, a full stack of books in his arms.
“Hey, Satan, where’re you off to?” MC attempted to catch his gaze behind the many tomes stacked against his chest.
“Ah, off to return these books back to the Library.” Some hair fell before his face, but with the absence of free hands, he utilized a puff of air from his mouth to blow the strands away.
“I see, be safe then, love you!”
The words caught him off guard, and with his focus distracted, his foot caught against an unfortunate crack in the pathway. He tumbled, the books in his arms scattering themselves all over the front yard. MC turned and attempted to help, but with Satan’s panicked scramble, he ended up smacking his head against MC’s.
“My-uh-apologies-I-” He stuttered while he frantically tried picking up the books, only to have some continue to slip from his arms.
“Here, use my bag,” MC opened the backpack that had been around their shoulders. It was already full of some textbooks and assignments, but it was enough to lessen some of the struggle. He gave them a small thank you as he slung the bag over his shoulder, the remaining stragglers tucked under his arm. He waited till MC went back into the house, and then he angrily tore the front gate off its hinges. He looked like such an idiot just now.
He knows MC means not much of it other than general affection, once he thinks about it. Alongside Lucifer, anytime MC now says it, he’ll act unaffected by it. The truth is, the never ending rage burning beside him magically subsides anytime those words fall from their lips.
If he works softly and intelligently enough, perhaps he’ll have forged a tight enough bond where MC can say it for real, and the fire in his soul can find some peace.
Asmo
Honestly, despite his over dramatizations and flamboyant nature, he’s the least affected out of all the brothers. Trust him, he’s had plenty of demons try to crawl their way back to him after a night of fun, insisting that they’re in love with him. So, he’s heard it a lot, and it’s not his favorite. That being said, he discovered that MC is probably the only one he’ll tolerate the dreaded L word with.
He’d sat there, working on MC’s nails, giving them one of his—as he calls it—Asmo-tastic manicures. MC appreciates the pampering, even if Asmo uses it mostly as an excuse to hold hands and get close to the human.
When Asmo was complete, MC looked down at their newly soft hands with beautifully decorated nails, feeling a bit closer to the demons now that they had matching manicures. “It’s beautiful, Asmo, I love you, thanks!”
His chest did flutter a bit, and he let out a stream of giddy giggles as he pressed MC into him for a hug. “MC, you’re so cute, I can’t take it!”
He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t use the words ‘I love you’ ever, no matter what, but if MC was using it so casually, why can’t he, it didn’t mean much of anything right? He quickly turns a 180 on the idea, and says it as often to MC as he can.
“Bye, MC, love you, dear! You’re wearing the outfit I gave you? I love you!” But his new form of affection is now not just centered towards the human, it’s now directed towards his brothers as well. No one is safe. “You’re giving me this, Lucifer? I love you! Beel, a snack for me? I love you!”
He’s such a hype man, and the affection spreading throughout the House of Lamentation by his and MC’s hand is infectious. Even if they don’t mean to, simply Asmo’s added influence has the brothers saying ‘I love you’ to each other more often, which has led to plenty of entertaining moments. Mammon said it once to Lucifer on accident, which admittedly filled the eldest with a bit of pride, especially at seeing Mammon’s mortified face. Beel and Belphie have no problem saying it between themselves, although it leaves them softer than they had been in a while. But perhaps the most shocking of them all was when Lucifer sleepily mumbled it to Satan, who then parroted it back to him without thinking. Both were a bit flustered, but Satan was so angry about it he wanted to tear both Lucifer’s and his own tongue out. The two refuse to talk about it, but they were both a little softer to each other that week.
But why are we talking about the others? This should be all about Asmo! You know how when someone continually says something out of irony after a while they end up speaking it unironically? That’s what was happening to Asmo, much to his confusion and unfortunately his fear. He had never...loved someone before, not in a romantic way, it was too much commitment, it was too much...emotion. But the more he continued telling MC he loved them...the more he started to believe it. The more he noticed the little things about them that he couldn’t get enough of. So one day, he stopped saying ‘I love you’ altogether.
MC met with him in private, concerned over his new out of character action. “Asmo? What’s wrong, I noticed you’ve been...distant, which isn’t like you.”
Of course they would notice, they always did. “Oh...MC...I…” For once, he was actually shy, covering up his own beautiful face to hide, an incomprehensible action. He could barely speak, he was so...scared? “MC I think...I...I think I love you.”
Beel
He was second place in the ‘staying calm’ category when MC said it. He’s a family man, loving those around him is in his nature. So hearing MC say those words, he merely took it as a family thing, and he was all too happy to bring MC into the family.
He noticed MC had been looking just a bit run down, and so, he shared a single snack with them. They practically glowed, looking up at him with a heart-melting smile. “Thanks Beel, I love you, thank you!”
Suddenly the food he was eating tasted ten times better, and he had been fully convinced for a while that it was some magic spell MC put on him. He almost ends up crying. Honestly, it’s been such a long time since he’s heard words like those. He didn’t realize how starved he was for affection. He pulls them into a tight hug that lasts for several minutes. He let them go eventually, but only because he needed hands to eat. He continued to scarf down the mouth-watering food, although the ache in his stomach wasn’t as pronounced as it had been.
He ends up giving MC a little snack anytime they say ‘I love you’, because he finds them adorable, and his way of reciprocating affection is with food. He loves MC immensely, so it’s only natural he shares his favorite things with them. Only, he was unaware that he was more or less training MC and himself by doing this. In fact, it was unbeknownst to everyone save Satan, who is very aware of what Pavlov’s Theory is. Satan doesn’t say anything though, he wants to see how this plays out.
The more MC says ‘I love you’ the more they get rewarded by Beel, and the demon has now conditioned himself by associating food with MC’s tenderness and endearment. MC steadily increases the time they spend with the demon of gluttony, almost stuck to his side as often as Belphie. MC finds they can’t help but smother him with love and affection, which Beel can’t get enough of since gluttony is his sin. And Beel discovered that he always has some sort of treat on hand that he refuses to touch because it’s MC’s.
The day MC finally caught on was the day Satan finally intervened. He himself spent some private time with MC, and, much like Beel had for a while now, he gave MC an unsolicited treat.
They hardly looked at him as they instinctively stated, “I love you!” Then ended up pausing for a long time. Satan teased them mercilessly before he explained, and MC felt their entire body grow hot with embarrassment. However, they took this opportunity to do something for Beel in return. They prepared a big meal for him, texting him to bring him down into the dining room, just for the two of them. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the banquet, but for once, his first instinct wasn’t to eat. He wrapped MC tightly in his arms, tears almost streaming down his face. MC’s presence seemed to satiate him almost as well as a twelve course meal.
“I love you, MC! I love you so much!”
Belphie
As shocking as it is, Belphie reacted the most severely. Which if you actually take the time to think about it, probably isn’t that surprising at the end of the day. It was the last thing he expected to hear, especially after everything that happened.
All he had done was run into MC in the hall. Lucifer had called Light’s Out and anyone who didn’t want to be punished would be heading straight to bed. Since he sleeps all day, he was fairly awake at this hour, not to mention recently he had felt annoyingly restless. Finally free to roam the house like he wished left him wandering and wanting. There was still something he needed, but he wasn’t sure what. MC stepped past him to get to their room, already looking exhausted, a large yawn escaping their lungs.
“Heading to bed?” They asked him, and he still found it difficult to bring his eyes up to theirs.
“Maybe soon.” He acted nonchalant.
MC rubbed their eyes, gently touching his shoulder as they passed. “Okay, love ya, get some good rest.”
He was grateful MC had immediately walked into their room, because he wasn’t prepared for how extreme his body would react. He found the energy upholding his legs went missing, and he had to lean against the closest wall to keep from crumpling to the ground. He continued to try to trick himself into believing he didn’t care. They were a human, he didn’t care, why would he care? Why should he feel guilty for everything he’d done? He was a demon, a monster, he’d embraced that when he fell, or he thought he did. But...being around MC...it made him feel like he was back in the Celestial Realm, filled with hope, with love, something he was sure he’d never truly feel again.
He recalled before the inevitable fall what his dear sister had told him before his life had been shattered before his eyes. “Remember Belphie, I love you.”
He couldn’t hold himself up any longer, clutching his pillow to his chest as the hole in his heart he had filled with sleep and anger crumbled away. He pressed his face deep into the fluff of the cushion as he sobbed. His heart felt like it was stinging like wounds often do when they’re cleaned and healing. It hurt. It threatened to break him. He had tried avoiding feelings. How could MC be so nice to him after everything? What had he done to deserve it?
Beel, influenced by the magical connected emotions to his twin, left everything he had been eating behind to come get him immediately. The intense pounding in his chest worried him to no end, he needed to find Belphie now. He found the demon of sloth curled up on the floor of the hallway, convulsing and shaking from violently crying. Beel hated seeing his beloved brother like this, but on the inside he was secretly thankful. He knew Belphie couldn’t keep acting like nothing mattered, it wasn’t healthy. He was finally coming to terms with everything, opening the door to finally, after all this time, being able to move on.
The next time the human sees the youngest brother, they see that he’s a little more aware, maybe not quite awake, but mindful of the people around him. For once, he talks about what he’s going to do in the future, looking forward instead of repeating broken events of the past. He finds that being around MC, if they’ll let him, helps the feeling in his ribs hurt a bit less, that the personality he thought had been locked up was starting to escape. Life itself matters a bit more than it used to. He has to be ready though, because he can’t afford to cry in front of his brothers the next time MC tells him ‘I love you’. Even if they think nothing by it, it means more than the world to him. But as always, he’ll act apathetic about it.
He’s working on it though, and all because MC showed him a bit of kindness despite his unforgivable actions. All he needed was a bit of love.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie
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After The Ceremony - Chapter 1
Hey Guys!
This is the first chapter of a mini Elriel fanfiction that I'm working on. You can also read it on AO3
Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.
Words: 1,847
Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony has long since been over, but Elain couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room. No, Elain had too much restless energy to even attempt to fall asleep tonight, and instead of tossing and turning in her bed all night, she decided she may as well be useful and start to clean up. It took only ten minutes of laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, before silently walking downstairs to the ballroom. Nuala and Cerridwen offered to help her, and Elain knew that they wouldn’t have minded staying up all night to clean with her, but she really just wanted to be alone. So, the twins like everyone else went to bed, and Elain stayed in the ballroom of Feyre and Rhysand’s River House putting herself to use.
There was something about being alone in the middle of the night that just seemed right to Elain, when everyone else was sleeping, she didn’t have to worry about putting on a face for everyone to see. She didn’t have to plaster a smile on her face while her heart was cracking in her chest. It was a test of her resolve today, Elain thought, as she pretended, yet again, that everything was alright. It took everything in Elain, every ounce of will power and restraint, to not break down and cry in the middle of the ballroom as she saw a familiar rose necklace around somebody else's neck.
Elain wanted to cry, scream, and cry some more whenever she looked at Gwyn, or Azriel, or even Mor. Especially Mor, when Elain saw her dancing and smiling with Azriel. It just felt so wrong. It should be Elain wearing his necklace, and it should be Elain in his arms as they spun around the room completely oblivious to everyone else.
After seeing Gwyn wearing her necklace, Elain immediately turned to leave the room because all she wanted was to be alone with her feelings and not worry about someone seeing through her fake smile, but as soon as she turned she caught a glimpse of the sun and a shadow dancing across the floor.
Elain had never seen Mor and Azriel dance together, and she never wanted to, especially when watching them smile at each other ruined whatever was left of her heart. They looked so incredibly beautiful together, and Azriel was smiling down at Mor with a warmth Elain hadn’t seen since the last solstice when she made him laugh. And Mor was smiling up at Azriel with an ease Elain had never noticed between them.
Confusion danced in her chest with every other emotion she was feeling.
Elain was only forced out of her staring from a heavy arm that fell across her shoulders. She blinked and a drunk Cassian appeared in front of her face, a stupid grin strectched across his face that was the result of unadulterated love and copious amounts of wine.
“Dance with me!” Cassian pulled her onto the dance floor, snapping her out of her imminent depression and into a crowded dance floor.
Elain let out a sign and continued sweeping the surprisingly messy floor. It seemed like most of the cake she and the twins had baked for the party ended up on the marble floor somehow, but she supposed that drunken fae couldn’t be expected to be tidy. The full moon illuminated most of the room, but there were still some faelights along the wall that added just enough light for her work. After sweeping, and picking up a surprising amount of glasses from the floor, Elain collected the bouquets from the tables.
It took her months to craft five bouquets for the ceremony, one for Nesta, and four for the women standing beside her. The core of Nesta’s bouquet were red carnations, pink roses, with bursting dahlias. Every bouquet held pink acacia’s - the flower of friendship. Feyre’s bouquet consisted of blooming magnolia’s and eye-catching violets. Her own was made from magnolias, nightshade, and a sprinkle of periwinkles. Emorie’s held vibrant hyacinths with white jasmine, and Gwyn’s bouquet was crafted from lavender, morning glories, oleanders. All the flowers were grown and cultivated by Elain herself, and she felt a shimmer of pride as she looked upon them.
Elain was getting ready to move the bouquets and their vases from the ballroom into the dining room, thinking they would look nice in a room where her family spends most of their time, when a familiar shiver floated down her spine. She didn’t look up as she said, “Hello, Azriel.” She knew he would reveal himself to her.
“It’s late. You should be sleeping.” His deep voice blended in with the night, causing her knees to weaken slightly and her eyelids to relax. What she wouldn’t give to fall asleep with that voice whispering in her ear while his fingers slid against her skin. What she wouldn’t give to stay awake all night with his voice in her ears and his fingers on her skin. Elain lost count of how many times she lost herself in thought as she tried to imagine what his lips would feel like against her throat.
“So should you,” Elain said, turning her body slightly to see him walk further into the room from where he leaned against the doorway. “I thought everyone was asleep. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Do you normally spend your nights cleaning up after drunken fae?” Azriel asked as he approached her. He stood maybe two feet away, but Elain could still feel the warmth radiating off his body. Another shiver made its way down her spine. Her skin felt so sensitive in his presence that it was hard to focus on anything besides him.
“Normally just Cassian,” Elain attempted to joke. Her chest felt slightly lighter as she noticed the twitch of his lips. It was a mistake looking at his lips. Her tongue brushed against her own that suddenly felt dry. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
Azriel nodded. No words, no explanation, no attempt at conversation.
“You’re a lovely dancer.” Elain said, unable to stop herself, but she wanted him to know that she noticed him. She wanted him to know that she wished it was her in his arms dancing in front of everyone else.
“Thank you. You didn’t dance much at all.” Azriel noted and Elain felt the warmth of a blush on cheeks.
She gave a small shrug and said, “I was only asked by Cass, Rhys, and Lucien.”
Rhys was the first to offer her a dance, and she loved her brother-in-law too much to say no. Rhys was a lovely dancer, and she fought to keep a smile on her face under his prying eyes. Her dance with Cassian involved mostly her propping him up so that he didn’t collapse on the floor. Her dance was Lucien was non-existent.
“Why didn’t you dance with him?” Azriel asked softly. If it wasn’t the dead of night she wouldn’t have heard it.
“I don’t want to give him false hope,” Elain said, taking a fortifying breath before she continued, “It’s wretched to think you have a chance, a connection, to someone when you don’t.” She prayed to the Mother that Azriel didn’t notice her shaky breath, her racing heart, or how it took all of her bravery to say that.
In the soft glow of the faelights Elain saw a flinch run across Azriels face. It took him a moment longer than usual to school his features into their usual mask, but he couldn’t hide the pain that shimmered in his eyes.
The similarities weren’t lost on Elain. How this night resembled that of the solstice. Azriel and Elain being the only two people awake in the house. Her mate sleeping upstairs. The same crackling excitement rushing through her. The hope that maybe she would finally feel the brush of his lips against hers, and she wouldn’t have to speculate about what he tasted like anymore.
“Elain.” Azriel said her name as if it pained him.
“Why did you do it?” She whispered hotly. “Why did you give my necklace away? Why did you dance with Mor and look at her as if she were the only female in the room?” Before her bravery completely ran out she took a step forward, grabbed his hand, and placed it against her heart. “Did you feel this break tonight?”
His hand was hot against the thin cotton of her nightgown. She could just barely feel the traces of his scars. Elain wished there was nothing between them.
“Because it did,” Elain continued. “It broke every time I looked at you. It broke when I saw the necklace, and it broke when I saw how beautiful you and Mor looked.”
“Elain,” Azriel said, his voice harsh, his hand pressed further into her as if he too wished there was no nightgown separating them. “I want to, but I can’t.”
“I don’t understand,” Elain stared at his churning hazel eyes. She couldn’t help the lonesome tear that slid down her face. She was about to wipe it away when he beat her to it. His large, warm, wonderful hand brushed away her tear before cupping her cheek. Despite the pain that was growing in her chest, she would feel it all again if it meant his skin on hers. She would withstand any pain if it kept them together. “Make me understand.”
“I want to kiss you,” Azriel said. Elain felt each word as it brushed against her face. “I want to rip this nightgown from your body, lay you on the table, spread your legs open and feast until I’m drunk off the taste of you. I want to slide into you until I’m the only thing on your mind, and then I want to bring you so much pleasure you’ll never want to be away from me. And once you found your pleasure, I’d take you upstairs and do it all again. If I ever got a hold on myself I would make love to you the way you deserve.”
Elain, loving the warmth and wetness that flooded her core, felt as if she was about to combust. One tiny spark and she would erupt into flame.
“And why can’t we do that?” Elain asked quietly, as if she were afraid of ruining the moment. As if she were afraid he would slip away from her yet again.
“Rhy’s pulled rank on me.” Azriel replied. The only sign of tension was the muscle that contracted in his jaw. Elain ignored the urge to run her tongue over it.
“Huh?” Elains brain was too hazed with desire to form a proper sentence.
“He forbid it.” Azriel replied, tilting his head forward slightly, and brushing his nose against hers. The breath that floated across her face threatened to knock her over.
“Forbid what?” Elain managed to get out - too absorbed in him to think clearly.
“Us.”
Elain didn’t have time to think about what Azriel said as his lips descended on hers.
#elain archeron#azriel#elain acotar#elriel fanfic#pro elriel#elriel fanfiction#elain x azriel#elriel#acotar fanfiction#acotar
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Golden (Kakashi x Reader)
A/N: you are in a relationship with kakaski, but after an accident, you have amnesia, and can’t remember him anymore. angst baby. Very feminine Civilian!reader (you own a bookstore, so cliche lmao) essentially, this series is mindless romantic indulgences i wrote mostly for myself, but if other people can enjoy them then i did my job as a fanfic writer.
A/N: im definitely not writing a fanfic for every song on fine line...haha
Word count: 5600
_____
He lay awake at night after the incident, imagining the moment he truly knew he was in love with her. Completely infatuated with this beautiful woman working at the bookstore. It was the only thing he could do now that his entire world had come crashing around him. With everything that happened in the hospital, this was the only way he knew how to cope.
He drifted off into the dream once again.
__
Kakashi stood by the front gates of the village, a paperback book he had just bought in his hand, folded over so he could read with one hand. One more time before he left for this mission, one he knew would last longer than anyone would like, he visited the old bookstore in town. He wanted to think he just stopped by to stock up on reading material, but that wasn’t it.
It was always about her.
When he saw Y/N running up to him, her apron nearly falling off and her hair in disarray, his eyes widened and he set the book down by his side. She was out of breath when she got to him, pressing her hands to her chest to get herself put together. Her brows furrowed deeply as she lifted her eyes to meet his.
“Kakashi,” she exclaimed.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?”
“I know you’re going on this long mission and you won’t be around for a few months, and I can’t stand the thought of you leaving without me telling you this,” she said, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t insanely curious what she had to say. She was a sweet village girl, and he frequented her store, quite a bit actually. On occasion, he would drop by a few times in a day just to say hello. He definitely wasn’t slick.
He waited for her to continue and she didn’t hesitate. “Every time you leave, I get this pain in my chest. I worry about you day and night because I know the life of a shinobi is never guaranteed. I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you this time, if I kept acting like the coward I am.”
“I see? Well, what’s on your mind?”
“I-I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, and I don’t know how to deal with it, so here goes,” she told him, taking a deep breath before her next words, “I think I’m in love with you, Kakashi Hatake. I think I’ve loved you since the first time you stepped foot in my parents store.”
“I…”
What was he supposed to say to that?
“You don’t have to say anything back. It doesn’t bother me, I know how closed off you ninja are. Just please, take my words and hold them close on your journeys.” She paused, clenching her soft fists by her sides. She wasn’t scared of rejection, not at all. She was only scared that Kakashi might not care about her words at all. “Please, don’t forget someone loves you.”
In that moment, he felt his heart stop beating, only for a second, but he felt it. Shifted awkwardly, not wanting to let off that he was getting even a little emotional at her declaration. He was tough as nails, the copy-nin. Not some lover boy, even if he wanted to be. Even if he wanted to swoop in right then and kiss her to pieces.
All he could say was, “I’ll keep that in my mind. Thank you, Y/N.”
“You’re welcome. Now, don’t fool around out there so you can come back to me in one piece!” she laughed, feeling tears bubbling up in the corners of her eyes.
He found himself smiling back at the young woman. “You got it.”
__________
Kakashi was never really one to express his feelings. Generally, he kept them inside to mourn alone. It was just in his nature, it was nothing personal with the people he knew and trusted. There was just something about Y/N that made him drop down some of those thick barriers.
His girlfriend was a normal woman, working long shifts in the village bookstore since she was a teenager. She never attended the academy, wasn't chakra sensitive, nothing in particular was so outstanding that she was noticed. Nothing on the surface, actually.
It was her smile and her laugh, the way she could make anyone feel like they were important and wanted, that attracted Kakashi to her in the first place. From the first time they met as teenagers in the bookstore aisles, he knew he was caught in some sort of trap. For a minute, he compared the feeling to that of a genjutsu, even though he knew that was far from a possibility.
To him, when she smiled, it felt as if everything was going to be okay. All the pain and suffering disappeared when she was around. He really couldn’t understand how that could be happening, with the world crumbling around him everyday.
That was a particularly rare attribute among ninja folk, whose lives led them to believe that happiness wasn’t achievable and death was common; pain was so normal for him. It was refreshing to have someone around who didn't think like that, that could change the tone of a room in a moment with just an ounce of positive energy. Y/N was innocent to the majority of these harsh realities that the ninja faced, for the most part.
As with most people in the village, her parents lost their lives during the invasion of the nine tails. She was alone for a long time, but despite that, she tried to find joys in reading, in stacking new books on shelves, in talking to unique individuals that would stop by. And as she aged, she realized her most favorite customer was one with a masked face, and a love of gushy, perverted novels.
She was even friends with some of his closest friends, Gai, Yamato, Sakura. She reached out to them, getting visits here and there while she worked during the day. After he informed his closest companions of his blossoming affair with the bookstore girl, they just had to get in an insider view. They kept visiting after the first meetings. Sakura bringing lunch, Yamato helping her with repairs, and Gai just bringing his brightest smile and a boatload of jokes and giggles to share at the front counter.
It was only a matter of time before they fell into some weird friendship, a civilian and one of the top shinobi of their village. He was gone half the time on missions, and sometimes, when he was ANBU, she wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. Occasionally, when a mission was long and difficult, she would hear pawing at her window late into the night. When she pulled back the blinds, a small dog would be sitting there with a folded piece of paper in his mouth, waiting for her to take it.
She loved those letters, they became her prized possessions. There was nothing else she loved more in the world than seeing his kind words written out on paper, his declarations of love that he would never dare say aloud. To him, it was easier to say those things on paper, to not be around when she read about his feelings for her. He was still attentive and kind to her in person, but the letters spoke with a romanticism that he couldn’t.
Y/N practically glowed when she spoke to him, so in love with him she could barely keep it restrained. He knew this. He knew she was as deeply in love with him as he was entranced with her. It had been 5 years since they started dating, and he prolonged the inevitable path of marriage as long as he could. Having a girlfriend was one thing, but marrying someone felt like a burden he couldn’t shoulder. He wanted to, but it just seemed like too much work, too much risk.
After years, he realized the waiting just wasn’t worth it. They were only getting older as the time went by. She just warmed his empty heart, he knew that was something only she could do for him. He needed that.
And that's why he sat in the comfort of Ichiraku, Sakura by his side, sipping on some soup. She was the only one he truly trusted with this knowledge, the only one who could give him genuine advice. He just needed to tell someone what he was about to do. He sat there, his fingers hovering over his pants pocket, eyes trailed down at the table.
"What did you want to talk about, Sensei?" She had asked.
"You really like Y/N, right? Think she's good for me?"
She smiled with a small nod. "Of course. Y/N is so sweet. She makes you so happy I can tell. I think it's really good for you." It was true. Sakura didn’t know what her sensei was like before he met the woman. That was years ago before she was even born. What she did know is that someone with that much pain seeping from his heart could use some love in his life, a stable shoulder to lean onto. If anyone was stable, it was her. Without any cares in the world other than worrying for her boyfriend and keeping her business afloat. Her trauma was behind her, unlike some of the shinobi that carry those with them for the rest of their lives. Guilt, anger, resentment.
He pulled a tiny, drawstring bag from his pocket and fiddled with the strings between his fingers. "When I was in the Land of Fire last month, I picked this up from a merchant," he explained, pulling open the bag and pouring out the contents. A small ring clicked against the bar table. "Take a look, tell me what you think."
She dropped her spoon and reached over for the ring, holding it gently with the pads of her fingertips. It was beautiful. It sparkled like sunlight hitting clear blue waters. A stone rested in the center, flecks of lavender and blue floating in the sparkly gem. When she turned it in the sunlight, more colors appeared and changed, morphing into something spectacular in every sense of the word.
"Kakashi-sensei, it's gorgeous. Are you going to give this to Y/N?"
"After all this time, it seems inevitable really. Time flies."
"Oh my gosh. I'm so happy for you. She's going to be ecstatic, I just know it. She loves you more than life itself." He liked hearing that reaffirmed for him, even though Y/N frequently told him how she felt, daily ‘I love you’s. Unlike him, those words were not rare, but each time it filled his chest with warmth.
He smiled fondly, watching as she continued to turn to ring in her hands. He never thought this would happen to him: marrying someone. He didn't want to lose anyone else. He didn't want to put that risk on someone, especially Y/N. He had suppressed his feelings for her for a few years before he finally succumbed to the urge to tell her. Finally, after years of longing and avoiding the obvious, she became his, and he was undoubtedly hers.
It was a hard decision. He knew it was wrong to risk it, put her life on the line, but now he felt ridiculous sulking around waiting for something that was never going to happen. Nothing had happened to Y/N yet, and it had been years. She was gonna be fine. He was only being paranoid, he had convinced himself.
"Tonight. I'm going to help her close the store and do it then."
"You're a good man, Kakashi. She’s so lucky to have you protecting her and watching out for her, ya know? You two balance each other out perfectly,” the girl sighed. If only she could find a love like her sensei had with his significant other.
"Thanks, Sakura.”
They finished up their conversation, and he paid the bill for her, feeling so high that a bit of money from his wallet didn't even bother him. It was slightly later than he was supposed to go see her. The bookstore should have already closed by about 10 minutes.
All he could think about on the way there was how she would laugh about him being late, as usual. She would hug him to say hello, like she usually wound, and then give him a kiss on his masked cheek. He would help her quickly reorganize books before pulling out the ring. To him, it wasn't really about her saying yes at all so much as this moment, proposing to the love of his life, meant he could leave his curse behind and be happy for once with someone he cared about. She was his savior, an escape from a mindset so ingrained he couldn't fight it on his own.
But when he walked up to the front of the store. He noticed the lights still on even though she would have shut them off by now. The sign out front still flipped to open. He didn’t think it was too weird at all, he just thought maybe she was waiting for him to come along to finish up.
As he walked in though, he noticed the whole reams of paper strewn across the floor. Piles of books were aggressively thrown from the shelves, scattered around the floor like someone side swept them from the stands. Ink stained the checkout counter where she normally sat, inkwell tipped over the edge and dripped onto the carpet which she took care to keep clean. It was disastrous getting stains out of that carpet, she always said to him.
Most importantly, on some of the papers scattered around, he spotted blood splatter, drips of half dried blood present all the way from her desk to the back door. He felt panic rise up from his stomach all the way to his throat, and his heart raced. It was rare something made him truly terrified, and this was one of those moments.
He searched, god, he scoured that entire building over and over again for the woman. He checked every aisle and under every table. He ran upstairs to her apartment and checked in the few small rooms she had, scared she was cowering in her bathtub or hiding under the bed. He ran to the neighboring stores, asking if they'd heard from her, and received nothing but empty words. He just wanted her to be anywhere that he could find, anywhere but in the arms of someone evil.
His Y/N was gone, and he was hopelessly at the mercy of his curse once again.
______
He wasn't even allowed to go on the search mission for his girlfriend. Instead, Tsunade sent Yamato as well as a few chunin who knew Y/N enough to recognize her but not enough to fail at being objective. Apparently, the copy-nin wasn't in his right mind to go on a mission right now, especially one that was so personal to him. All his missions for the foreseeable future had been cancelled and another jounin was set to replace him. He could only sit back at home, guilt ridden and feeling useless, unable to help, unable to search. He did this to her. He knew that putting his heart into someone else's hands wasn't right, that it would only lead to her suffering but he couldn't listen to his own experience. He didn’t think it could happen to Y/N. he thought he could protect her.
But fate finds a way, it seems.
He trusted Yamato and the others to find her, but it was nothing like going himself. He wanted nothing more than to see the men who stole her away taught a lesson for what they had done. He wanted to cradle her in his arms and kiss her head, and promise something like this would never happen again. At least, that’s what he wanted to do. He didn’t know how he would react in the moment, despite developing quite good self-control over the years. How could he contain himself when the perpetrators caused his beautiful girl to bleed, and no doubt suffer?
Sakura felt the worst for Kakashi, knowing what she knew. She could imagine him heading to propose to his little girlfriend whom he loved more than anything in the entire world, and see only her blood splattered across the room and endless signs of a brutal struggle. Not to mention no one had a clue why they stole her or what was happening where no one else could see. The medical nin nearly shed a couple tears when Kakashi rushed into the Hokage's office without announcement, proclaiming that his girlfriend was gone, kidnapped from her own store where she worked alone all day.
Tsunade, despite barely knowing the girl, knew it was important; for anyone to be stolen from their village was serious enough. Although she felt for Kakashi, she had to keep him calm while she worked on finding the subject of his affection. She sent out teams immediately, and stressed that Kakashi was to remain in the village until everything was resolved one way or another. She didn't want any accidents because of a reckless, emotionally compromised shinobi faltering.
It only took the teams a single day to find their target.
Shikamaru and Choji were the ones to come back first, and in the larger boy's arms rested the limp, unconscious body of a missing woman. Ever so gently, he had her head tucked away against his chest the entire way home, trying his best not to hurt her anymore. Even if she was unconscious, he wanted to respect the body. From the moments they spoke before, she seemed like the nicest girl. He felt awful. She wasn’t the one putting her life on the line, she was the one that shinobi were supposed to protect. And they failed her.
When they walked through the gates of the village, Kakashi was already rushing up to the gates waiting for their arrival. He caught up to the boys and reached out to take her body from his arms, just to cradle her against him. It was the least that he could do was take her to the infirmary. To feel her faint heart beating against his chest. He was surprised when one of the chunin sadly shook his head.
"Kakashi, she's alive, but trust me, you don't want to see what they did to her," Shikamaru warned, and Choji flinched, just thinking about what her poor face looked like when they found her. Shikamaru knew for a fact that if his girlfriend was ever handed off to him looking so pitiful, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He didn’t want the same to befall on his sensei. "Just trust me, I cannot let you see it, for your sake. Let Choji bring her to Tsunade."
He felt a burning in his stomach, pain creeping up in his abdomen like he was going to throw up all over the dirt path they stood on, but he did his best to remain calm despite the mix of emotions running through his head. He watched as the Akimichi carried her quickly off to the hospital. Kakashi didn't miss though, the blood stains on his tunic surrounding the area where her head was resting, circling her face. She had bled a lot in her time away, he realized.
God, he felt sick. So fucking nauseous.
"What happened?" he breathed heavily, words slipping through.
"Apparently, the guy had a grudge against your clan for something your father did to his family. Killed a criminal brother or some shit. When he heard wind of your girlfriend he knew he would take his revenge. Didn't want ransom, fame, nothing, just to torment you and torture her. Disgusting bastard."
There was one thing he wanted to know on top of his worry about her condition. He’d been thinking about it for the entire day she was missing. Obsessing even.
"What did you do with the man?" He hoped that justice had been served, and he couldn't imagine the two boys doing anything less.
"A man that would do that to a woman doesn't deserve his life," he muttered, his eyes trailed off to the village, “I made it painful.”
Kakashi nodded to him, and together they stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity.
“Sensei?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry.”
____________
When he got to the hospital, Choji was directly quickly to a special unit with particularly fancy machines around the room. Sakura was standing beside her own mentor awaiting the arrival of her friend. The moment she finally saw Y/N's exposed face, she cried. Tears fell from her eyes and she leant over the hospital bed to get a look at all her wounds. She looked alien, and the amount of blood that stained her hairline and cheeks was thick and heavy. Choji had tried to wipe it off, but he just couldn’t get it all.
"Y/N! Oh my God, what did they do to you?" She cried, running her hands shakily over the contusions and the cuts and the bulging areas near her temples. Her body was no better but her face is what hurt Sakura the most. It was hard to believe that all the life had been drained from her body after this one incident.
The light had left her body. Her familiar glow emanating from her soft skin was missing. She looked cold and dead. For the first time, Sakura saw her without her smile, without any bit of optimism. It felt like she was staring at an empty shell of the woman she knew.
"Sakura, get the IV ready. I need to get to work."
And so she did what she does best. Healers at work in their element fixing broken bones, burst capillaries in her head, torn skin. Everything they could. It took hours, and her face still wasn't completely healed in the end, just less swollen. She still had some bumps and bruises but those weren't going to be so bad. They could heal by themselves with a few days of rest and care.
She would be okay, they decided after a while of treatment, and moved her into a normal hospital room, under watch of nurses every so often, no visitors allowed either. Not for the first few days, much to Kakashi's displeasure. He was really getting irritated with the way everyone was keeping him from seeing her. Shouldn’t he be allowed? Essentially, the only family she had left? In reality though, he was scared.
But did he even want to see her again? He loved her, would do anything in the world for her. If only he had the guts to just give up on her and let her meet a normal man from the village, let her marry him and just forget all about their relationship. Then, nothing like this would ever happen again. She would be safer without having connections with him. He was so upset with himself for letting this happen.
He hated himself. It had been a long time since he genuinely thought those words. He hated himself more than anyone else. He let this happen, he was to blame for all this mess. A monster.
He headed back to his apartment that night and stared over at her tiny pile of belongings in the corner, ones she had left over his place as time went on. They still didn't live together so it wouldn't be the worst thing if he broke up with her. She would be hurt, probably cry for a few days, a week, maybe a month. He didn’t know. All he knew was that a little bit of crying was a lot better than getting fatally injured.
Just return her belongings in a box, and never go back to that fucking bookshop where he fell in love with her. He could get his novels directly from Jiraiya if he wanted them.
Tsunade already told him it would be days before he would be allowed to see her again, something about the healing process and that her chakra wasn't enough to fix everything. Based on what Shikamaru had told him, the way he acted- it must have been pretty bad. He couldn't even imagine her face beaten and broken.
All he knew was that in 2 days, he would be allowed to see her again, to possibly talk to her and apologize for what he had caused. It was the least he could do. At this point he couldn't imagine giving her that ring. How could she accept when he was the reason she was abducted and tortured?
He barely slept that night, but it didn't matter. He didn't have anything to do. He was given time off work until everything was resolved. He wondered if it would have been better to have a mission and forget all about the situation for even a couple fleeting moments.
He was just so tired of these feelings. He felt suffocated, and unlike himself. He was finding it hard to be cool, calm, and collected like usual. He just felt terrible. Too terrible to eat, too terrible to sleep, too terrible to do anything but stare up at the ceiling and wonder what could have been.
______
It was time to head to the hospital and see her. Yamato had come to his apartment so they could go and see Y/N. Tsunade gave him the green light first thing that morning when he reported to her. The wood style ninja wanted to see her as well, just to say he was happy she was recovering and even tell her that next time she needed help, if Kakashi wasn't around, to run to his apartment. He would always open his arms to help. So many shinobi of the village, after this incident, would be willing to drop everything and help. Her bookstore would probably always have eyes on it from now on.
Word travelled fast between the shinobi and soon enough almost everyone was giving Kakashi sympathetic looks, patting him on the back and apologizing to him for something they knew nothing about. He just wanted to get to her and say sorry for everything he had done. For not being there sooner, for his father and his clan causing this whole thing. He just needed to see her face. He couldn't get her out of his head.
Sakura was standing outside the room when he arrived. She was biting on her nails, which was oddly uncharacteristic of her. She rarely got nervous enough for habits like that to arise. She was normally so confident. That was the first of the red flags.
"Kakashi-sensei, Yamato. You're here to see Y/N, aren't you?" she asked, her voice quiet and hesitant.
She let him Yamato walk past her into the room but she raised her hand before Kakashi could walk in. She gave him one of the most sorry, pitiful looks he had ever seen, and her lip was quivering just a bit. It was barely noticeable but Kakashi was talented at noting the smallest things.
"Kakashi, I'm really sorry about everything. Lady Tsunade did everything she could. When you go in there, just please don't get upset. It's not as bad as you think. I'll explain everything later, but I want to see how she reacts to seeing you first," she bit out, her words mending together awkwardly.
He figured she was just nervous about her condition or maybe she was still bruised and bandaged up. If she was in a full body cast, he wouldn’t care. As long as he could see her. He couldn’t understand why Sakura was so worried. She would still be beautiful to him. She could never lose that shine that she carried regardless of her external features.
"Hmm. I'm sure it will be fine."
"I'm serious. Don't get upset and alarm her, it's very important you be careful."
"Gotcha."
She watched as he walked past her into the white room, sunlight leaking onto her bedside. The woman was fond of staring out the window since she woke, comforted by the familiarity of the village and the birds that flew by. That was the one thing she needed. Comfort.
Yamato sat at her bedside, and she seemed to be talking to him quietly. Her brows were furrowed deeply and she seemed strained, thoughts running through her brain.
"Kakashi-" the man began to say, desperate to say anything to his friend before the inevitable, but was interrupted.
"Y/N, I was so worried about you," he said, words tumbling out before he could even think. He just had so much to say. He continued, "I need to apologize for what happened. I know I should have been at the shop earlier to help you close, I just got caught up in something. It was my family's fault for your kidnapping. I cannot believe I dropped my guard and let this happen to you, baby-"
She looked at him, but without an ounce of the fondness he was so used to. Instead, his girlfriend just looked confused.
"I… I'm sorry but, Sir, do I know you?"
No.
Not this.
He pleaded in his head that this was not happening. That somehow he had misheard.
"It's me, Kakashi,” he replied softly, almost pleading for her to say something else.
She smiled sympathetically, peering up at him with a little glimmer of that kindness he knew in her eyes. He could tell she was confused, and he began to feel his heart break. "Uh, I'm so sorry but I don't remember you. We're we friends or something?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say something like that,” he muttered, his eyes turned to stare at the white tiles beneath his feet.He couldn’t look at her anymore.
"Yamato, you're friends with Kakashi-san, too?" She asked the brunette at her bedside, sitting in a chair wiping his sweaty palms on the thighs of his pants. He felt himself becoming nervous, especially when he felt Kakashi watching him. Why did she have to ask him that question? Why did she have to address him by his name so casually? He could feel Kakashi begin to bubble up emotions he hadn’t felt from him before.
"Yes. We are all very close friends, Y/N. You were closest with Kakashi actually."
"Then how come I can’t remember any of you?"
"I don't know." He felt fear creeping up his neck, Kakashi overwhelming his senses. The grey haired man just stood there, his eye flickering between the love of his life and his friend who apparently her brain thought was more important than him. Did he not look friendly enough to talk to? Was Yamato more inviting than he was, was that why she stopped talking to him? “I really wish I could help you there,” he mumbled.
She turned back to Kakashi and smiled, but it wasn't the one he knew from her. It was different. He hated it. He didn't even want to look at her anymore.
"I hope I remember you soon, or I'll just have to get to know you again, Kakashi-san," she chirped, reaching out to touch his hand which rested on the edge of her bed. The reaction he had was immediate and almost startling. The second her hand touched his, her warmth pressed to his cold fingers, he yanked his hand away and shoved it into his pocket.
He didn't want her to touch him. He didn't want anything other than to leave. Fuck getting to know him again. That wasn't an option.
"I need to go. I've got a mission I need to prepare for."
"Okay! Goodluck out there," she called to him as he turned on his heel to leave. He grit his teeth, feeling another wave of emotion overtake him. As he stepped outside the door, Sakura was still waiting there for him, her arms crossed over her chest sheepishly.
"Will she ever remember me again?" He asked simply.
"I don't know. She's got retrograde amnesia which can sometimes be permanent depending on the damage done to the brain. We couldn't fix it, no matter how much we tried. She doesn't remember me either. She doesn't remember Gai or Naruto or even Tsunade. She only remembers the village and a few bits and pieces that she can associate with it. Of course she remembers her name and her bookstore, but specific people and memories are essentially gone for now."
"So she's lost to us?"
"She can still get her memories back, but it will take time," she explained. "Sensei, I'm so sorry. None of us wished anything like this on you. I told Tsunade about the ring you were going to give her and the proposal, and we mourned for you. I'm so sorry." She felt so bad, and they did cry for him. They cried for the girl who got to keep her life but lost her soul.
"I have to get back to my apartment and clean up a few things," he dismissed, turning his head away from his student as well. He felt his heart clench in his chest as he walked away. The ring still sat deep in his pants pocket and he wanted nothing more than to throw it in the river.
He wished he was the one who forgot everything. Maybe this pain in his heart would subside. Maybe all the guilt would be washed away once and for all.
Part Two and Three are out.
#kakashi x reader#kakashi hatake#naruto x reader#kakashi oneshot#kakashi fanfic#naruto one shot#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi imagine#naruto imagine#fluff#angst#the reader is a vert sweet and feminine girl and i hope that doesnt offend anyone
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Just the two of you
Pairing: Angel x reader
Request: could you write something where the reader and the character (i honestly cant decide which one. you choose) are in a relationship but the scoobies dont know they even know each other, so they always just assumed their signifs were somebody else? and they are always gushing to the scoobies about their datemates, and the gang finds out zhese two are together at the end….?
Requested by: Anonymous
A/N: I loved this request, it only took so long because you gave me too much choice trying to pick someone to write about !! I’m very indecisive but I ended up choosing Angel 💜🖤
You had fallen in love. Ridiculously fast but it didn’t make it any less real. You adored him. Would lay your life for him. He had been unsure, not willing to subject you to himself and all the baggage that came with his existence to begin with. Until he realised just how happy you could both be when you were together. How your mood dipped when he tried to distance himself.
All he wanted was for you to be happy and he soon realised that this could only happen when you were together. But you kept it intimate, something just for yourselves.
He had been given an experimental cure for his curse and for the most part, it seemed to be going really well. Because he knew for certain that if it wasn’t working he would have lost his soul a long time ago.
Just looking at you gave him this feeling of true happiness. It had almost been a year and he had never been so happy. It was all because of you.
You were more outgoing than him, would speak your mind easier. Communicate with him freely. This had helped him open up more, feel that you really wanted to hear what he had to say. He could lean on you, the way you so often did with him.
You were strong together. Completely in love and not able to part. Nothing could break you up.
But because you only turned up to the library when there was a reason to be there, the Scoobies weren’t entirely aware that you and Angel had even spoken more than one word to each other. You were older than them and had met them by chance when you and Willow were held hostage together.
You had been adopted into the dysfunctional family since and Giles was trying to figure out a way for you to work in the library so that you could be closer to the action when they needed you.
You currently worked at the Bronze which, wasn’t the most fun place to work. There was always something nasty going on and there was a very high staff turnaround. You were pretty sure you were the only member of staff that had lasted the month.
Since you and Angel had gotten together, he had been in a much better mood. He didn’t speak so much but it was more than he ever had. He felt lighter. You made him feel alive, made him appreciate living.
The Scoobies soon noticed this. His much better mood. And so they rounded on him one day trying to figure out the reason.
Angel had been concerned to begin with. The guilt he held in his chest never left. He had noticed it did ease, if only slightly when you were around. He had thought this was dangerous at first. But you allowed him to work through everything, to speak about the trauma without ever turning away from him.
So, he began to be unable to stop himself from speaking about you. About how much he adored you. How much you assisted him, loved him.
He ended up near-gushing. As he would end up always doing when they asked about his partner. They were all actually shocked that their interrogation worked.
Angel admitted to you as he lay beside you in bed that he told them. He was nervous about your reaction. That you may suddenly turn around and tell him you had changed your mind after everything. But you grinned, looping your arms around his neck and peppering his face in such adoring kisses.
That slight tug at his lips was visible again and you began to kiss softly at the corner of his mouth, trying to widen his smile. You loved it when he smiled. It brightened up his face.
You told him how excited you were that you could tell them of your love out in the open. Talk about how happy you were. How secure you were in this relationship. He exhaled, relieved that you felt this way.
The only thing was, he didn’t realise he hadn’t actually said your name to the Scoobies. He had been too excited to finally be able to express how amazing you were and how much he felt about you that he had never actually mentioned your name.
So, the next time you saw the Scoobies they were researching something about some demon. You were about to be invited to join in too. You had slipped in the back way through the stacks.
You greeted everyone and they shared a look before launching into another interrogation.
“So, are you gonna tell us about him?”
“Him?” You repeated and realised. They knew about you and Angel and you hadn’t seen them since he had told them.
Although, what you didn’t realise was that they had all overheard you calling Angel on your cell phone and being all sweet and telling him to hang up first. It had made them laugh and they had to ask. They had never seen you so soft or happy.
“Come on, we all know now”
“Yeah, what’s he like?”
“Well, with me he’s sensitive but still just as cool as ever. He really, really cares too… can make me laugh so much I’m almost crying sometimes!” You admitted, smiling down at the ground. You could have gone on forever, but you knew you had a tendency to talk a lot an didn’t want to allow them something they could pounce on – try to discourage you from Angel.
“Well, he sounds nice” Xander said sincerely, he thought you deserved someone that made you happy. You had to make a double glance at him. You squinted, trying to figure out if he was being cruel. Berating Angel again.
“You mean that?”
“Just want you happy, Y/N” He shrugged and then cracked some goofy joke to try and make you forget how sincere he had been. But this joke was interrupted by Buffy asking for more information.
“We need details! How did you meet? How did you know?!”
“Well, you all know how it is when you’re in love…” You smiled, practically glowing at even thinking of your boyfriend. They all knew Angel after all and they knew how deeply he felt things so of course he was so incredibly loving.
“Spill!”
“We, uh, were both reading this book and-”
“A reader, I like this man already - another win for the nerds!” Willow cheered which made you laugh at your friend.
“Well, I’m not sure he’d adopt that label himself but he’d definitely very thoughtful, he
“We’re glad you’re happy” Buffy nodded which really meant a lot to you. You smiled at her softly.
“He makes me so happy, but, uh you know we’re not dangerously happy” You insisted, knowing what must be on everyone’s minds despite their surprisingly supportive demeanours.
“Well, ah, yes, so long as you’re sensible” Giles nodded and your eyes bulged. This was going almost too well. But, again, why would you want them to be angry at you? You couldn’t help beaming around the room.
“Well, he truly is an angel, in name and nature” You joked and they all just smiled a little blankly at the term you had used. It had gone straight over their heads. They just hadn’t been able to put the two of you together.
You weren’t opposites but you were definitely more talkative. You barely shut up and you liked being centre of attention. Whereas he often kept to the shadows, spoke only when he felt he had something to contribute. You had a lot of shared interests and now a lot of shared hobbies that you did together.
But the Scoobies just didn’t even begin to think that you and Angel could be together. They barely saw you in the same room together and you didn’t ever appear in even a friendly way.
“Why don’t you bring him to the Bronze sometime?”
“Yeah, I guess, I mean he usually turns up sometime anyway. I can tell him to show, just give me a time” You smiled. You didn’t usually go to the Bronze just to relax, it was work and someone would recognise you and start barking their orders at you. But you did like to meet your friends and that was where they hung out, so you would often relent and just spend even more time at work too.
Sometimes you found yourself subconsciously wiping down tables and had to physically stop yourself. Angel went to the Bronze a lot to spend his evenings with you.
When you were there for leisure, he would sit near you with the others. But to the outside observer, you and he didn’t speak much. The reason was that you didn’t have to. You could communicate just through the looks in your eyes. Subtle nods and smiles.
He also wasn’t very big on pda so to the others wouldn’t notice it so easily. Sometimes he slid a hand on your thigh under the table, squeezing there. He needed to feel you under his hands. Wanted you as close to him as possibly whilst still being appropriate in public.
Other times, he reached to hold your hand. Clasping his hand to yours. Taking his strength from you. Comfortably attached to you, it made him feel so much happier just being in some kind of contact with you.
Hated the idea of being away from you for even a moment. But he would only ever show how needy he was to you. He would have to be subtle in front of others. Didn’t want to show how soft he could be for you or how much you mattered. He was always conscious of threat too. And the thought of losing you hurt his heart immensely.
Mostly, because he wanted to be close with you, he would suggest you left the Bronze and went to patrol or something instead. So your friends would turn around to say something to you and you and Angel will have disappeared into the night.
You trusted him, that you could have each other’s backs when it came down to it. You were completely in love with him after all. You trusted him implicitly.
Tonight though, you wanted time alone. Just the two of you. You had arranged to meet after dark and just go straight to patrolling.
Well, it was probably about 10% patrolling, 90% kissing and showing your affection. Angel’s senses were working overdrive to try and remain aware of the space around you. But it was so incredibly hard for him when you were around. You were everything to him, he completely succumbed to the way he felt.
Became some kind of love-drunk teenager when you were around him. His lips usually on your, he found your skin so soft. So kissable, it wouldn’t be right to leave any part unloved. His lips would have to press his adoration into your skin, the headlines being he was madly in love with you.
He pressed you against the mausoleum. Hungrily kissing each other as if you hadn’t seen each other in years. As if you were long-lost lovers. But in fact you had only been away for each other for about twelve hours.
His knee slid between your legs as he made sure his body was pressed as close to yours as physically possible. He gripped you in a way that was firm, telling you how urgent he needed this kiss whilst simultaneously being tender. Full of love and adoration.
Words or affection that he struggled to articulate at times and so sought to show you in this way. Show you just how much he adored you. Worshipped you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you and now, when he thought even a singe thing that reminded him of you he was suddenly telling anybody who would listen.
What you didn’t realise, while your lips were locked with his, was that you had an audience. They all gasped in horror. Assuming based on their misunderstanding that you had been cheating on your respective separate partners.
Neither you or Angel noticed though, you were too wrapped up in each other. It was a good job they weren’t vampires or the both of you would have been succumbed to the evil of the night. All because of how drunk you both were on love.
They left but couldn’t leave it for long though. They invited you both to the library one evening. All of them were pacing and squabbling over who should bring it up first. It was an intervention. But, neither of you understood what was happening for a moment.
“Look, we know about the temptation, the hormones-” Willow started.
“His hormones are dead-”
“Yeah, but we mean it - you could really be hurting people” Buffy nodded, concerned.
“What?” you frowned.
“The… cheating…”
You and Angel share a confused look. Neither of you had a clue what’s going on.
“You both seemed so happy, we don’t want you to throw it away for some lusty-lovin’” Xander relented, his hard tone disappearing. He tried his best to be supportive.
Angel finally understood and sighed. Whereas you were just staring as if they were speaking to you in an ancient demon language.
“Uh, guys… it’s Y/n that I’ve been talking about” he frowned at them all before adding, “I said this… right?”
He said as he curled his hand into yours. You squeezed his hand, a show of support that nobody missed. He looked scared, as if they would stake him for your love. As if they were going to tell him the main thing he feared: that he wasn’t good enough for you. That he shouldn’t be with you.
“No you didn’t!” They said, almost in unison. Which made you have to hide your laughter. He could be so awkward in public that he spoke in half-sentences, the other in his head.
“Huh” Angel said, squinting at their reactions. They were bemused but not horrified. Buffy was smiling slightly at the two of you together. She was happy for you. Truly.
And it made Angel relax. He slid the hand that had been in yours and instead moved his body closer to you. Emboldened by their apparent approval. He was behind you slightly, strong arms looping around your waist. Pressing a kiss against your temple.
“Oh my God, this was so obvious – how did we not see it?!”
“Yeah, Angel’s the guy I’ve been near-swooning over for months. I definitely said Angel… you all heard me!” You insisted. You had literally said angel after all.
“We, uh, thought that was a pet name”
You and Angel shared a look and laughed. You grinned at him, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks as the others ran through all the things he had said about you. For someone with a reputation for never speaking, he sure had said a lot about you. About how much he loved you.
He had been gushing and he hadn’t even realised. Even for that five minutes it took you to walk from the bar at the Bronze to the table. He had said so many complimentary and adoring things about you. And yet they still hadn’t realised. Until now.
They were so supportive of you both. Your friends lifting you up. Approving of your relationship. Of how happy you were. It was a relief. Not that you would ever been able to stop loving him. You would have followed him to the ends of the earth if he had tried to leave you. Create a distance.
You would never give up on him.
You glowed when you were together. Faces brightening. Hearts singing. Smiles never far from your faces. They couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed this before. Hadn’t figured it out.
Of course it was you and him. You were perfect for each other. Just the two of you. Together.
#Angel btvs#Angel btvs x reader#Angel x reader#Angel btvs imagine#Angel btvs x you#Angel x you#Angel imagine#Buffy The Vampire Slayer#buffy the vampire slayer imagines#btvs#btvs x you#btvs imagine#btvs x reader#buffyverse#Angel the series#ats#gender neutral#gn
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Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima Discovering Their S/O’s Last Partner Abused Them
Anonymous said:
hiii! could you write headcanons for bakugou, todoroki, and kirishima on how they would react to discovering their s/o’s last partner abused them, if you’re not comfortable it’s totally fine though!
hello! i hope these are fine and i hope i portrayed everything properly. if not, someone please let me know. i wasn’t that sure about posting these so please read at your own discretion! also, if you or anyone you know is stuck in an abusive situation, please reach out to someone :( these ended up pretty long once again, so there are some scenario-like sections in a few parts. please let me know what you think and i hope you like them!!! ♡
warning: mentions of/references to abuse and abusive relationships (if it helps, i didn’t explicitly describe/go into detail about what happened? it’s more so alluded to and there’s a heavy focus on the comfort aspect)
Bakugou Katsuki
He started to notice that something was wrong whenever you would flinch when he raised his voice. He didn’t mean to yell at you and most of the time it was just him talking at his normal, fired up volume. He didn’t like fighting with you, just playful banter in his own intense way, so it was even weirder that you were reacting like that.
But even if he was just ranting to you about his day, getting a little too into the story and his voice getting a little louder, he seemed to be constantly making you anxious, as though you were waiting for him to break bad news to you or something.
It was confusing and it frustrated Katsuki, always one to want to be in the know and be in charge of situations, but he wasn’t sure how to approach it. His usual blunt and gruff manner of demanding you tell him what was wrong would most likely only serve to worsen the situation exponentially, so he was sort of stuck.
After a while of going back and forth with himself, he came to the conclusion that he needed to change into the more caring boyfriend you deserved—soft spoken and sensitive to your emotions.
Although you had known what you had been getting into with his blatantly brash personality, he figured that actually dating him now and seeing it up close constantly were simply too much, and he really liked you so a bit of compromise here and there wouldn’t hurt.
But when he consciously lowered his voice, there seemed quite a few possibilities of what would happen.
You would likely seemingly relax and listen to his soothing tone at first, something he enjoyed because of the soft smile that would paint your features, but then it seemed as though you would snap back to reality, remembering that this was Bakugou Katsuki—resident hothead—who was suddenly using his “inside voice” unprompted, and would give him a suspicious look, as though you thought he was planning to reveal this had all been the cover up for some sort of trick.
You always seemed to catch yourself when you did that though and would look embarrassed, turning away and excusing yourself, as though hoping he hadn’t noticed your shift in emotion—which he thought was fucking stupid because of course he’s going to notice if something is up (he was always watching for little details when it came to you, admiring the tiny things that made you up because he was head over heels in love).
(Truth be told, you had had one too many startling surprises in your last relationship where you thought things were going good and finally getting back to normal, until you realized it had all been a trick—a sinister grin coating the face of your ex being all the confirmation you needed to realize how naive you had been. They always seemed to love watching your face crumble in mortified realization.)
(Every time you thought about that now around Katsuki, you always felt so guilty even associating him with something so horrible that you always had to step away and take a moment to breathe and re-organize your thoughts.)
(Under your breath, you always mumbled a quiet ‘sorry’ as you walked away, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. It made you feel better—someone like him didn’t deserve to be remembered alongside something so horrible.)
Eventually, Katuski had enough. He had no idea what to do at this point. Perhaps you really didn’t like being around him all that much?
Your contact prior to dating had been frequent since you two were good friends, but it had been fairly controlled and in minimal amounts compared to the long hours you frequently spent stuck to each other’s sides now. Maybe he was better off just being your friend.
You seemed to think that his rough exterior could be funny at times, especially because you liked to poke fun at him a lot, and found it overall charming how it roped back into his determined mindset.
Funny—that’s what it was. You could joke around playfully with him easily, but it seemed that when it came to a stable, (hopefully) long-term relationship, that sort of thing just wouldn’t cut it. The relationship was fairly new but he was already totally flubbing it. He couldn’t keep acting like your “friend” anymore, he was supposed to be your boyfriend, so he had to up the romantic act if he really wanted to make that clear.
But then you didn’t seem to be at ease if he tried being a lot more gentle though, so what should he do?
There wasn’t much else remaining as an option but to ask you directly what you wanted from him.
He didn’t want to make you unhappy, but if it was true that you two weren’t compatible in that way well… maybe he would have to… lose this one. And he never lost.
It was his attitude of striving for perfection and for a winning outcome in this relationship that he set aside his fear of the unknown and instead put you first.
A quiet evening front of the T.V.—you staying over at his house for an impromptu movie night—had the scene perfectly set for him asking you once and for all what was wrong.
He’d made a pact with himself—if you seemed even the slightest bit unsure, he’d… maybe have to let you go. But only for your own sake. He knew it was very likely he just wasn’t made for love, versus everyone else he knew that seemed very in-tune with both theirs and others emotions.
A commercial break had him drawing in a deep breath, your head shifting comfortably against his chest as he breathed in and you closed your eyes briefly as you felt the comforting rise and fall—only to snap your eyes back open within seconds once you heard his next words. That breath hadn’t been one of quiet comfort on a romantic evening, it had been him inhaling all of the courage in the room that he could before he asked you the question that had been burning in his chest for so long—“What’s wrong?”
It came out as more like a whisper than he would have liked and he almost wished it had been drowned out by the generic ad that was currently flashing across the screen, but of course with his luck it hadn’t. At least it was out in the air now, waiting for you to strike it down from the sky and puncture it with your answer.
A few beats of silence passed and he wasn’t sure if you were going to answer—wondering if you had even heard it—but truthfully you were trying to figure out if you had heard him correctly. You decided to play it safe. “What do you mean?”
Katuski wasn’t sure what else you wanted him to say—he’d done his best, you knew he wasn’t good with this sort of thing. “Don’t play dumb, babe, you know what I’m talking about.”
Unfortunately, his voice was louder this time, mostly from his irritation at not knowing what to do to get you to tell him. But then you were slinking away from the arm he had wrapped around you, breath caught in your throat. “Kat…”
“Wait, fuck, stop, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he was quick to gather you back up in his arms, turning to face you on the couch. “I’m just… I’m just worried about you, baby. Is it something I’m doing? I know I’m not always the perfect boyfriend so… if you want to break up…” You had to rush to stop him from finishing, the mere thought of that tugging at your heartstrings.
And so it was there, on that same couch you had spent so many afternoons together as friends falling in love with each other, that you tearfully told him about your last relationship—a shameful past you wished to completely forget, erase, pretend didn’t exist. But Katsuki coaxed it out of you gently, the light murmur of the T.V. with it’s volume low in the background (you had asked him not to turn it completely off, afraid of what the deafening silence would bring forth in you) and you felt so, so good despite the tears dripping down your face. So fucking happy to finally get it out. And when you had finally said your piece, he was on you in seconds, warm arms encasing you and your face firmly pressed into his t-shirt, the fabric already quickly dampening from your crying, and that felt like home.
As Katuski comforted you, he was internally fuming with anger—he was careful not to let it show and accidentally end up stressing you out further, but once his reassurances of how he would never, in a million years, ever want to hurt you seemed to ease you back down to Earth—you even managing to crack a smile that made his heart do somersaults—he was already composing a plan to track down the idiot that had hurt you.
He would be extra clingy in the coming days, which was saying a lot for your boyfriend who normally liked to grumble about how stop, you’re bothering him, no hugs right now while simultaneously pulling you closer to him every single time.
If it was someone he knew, next time he saw them he wouldn’t hesitate to pull them aside and unleash a slew of threats that were definitely not empty in meaning. He had a reputation and he knew how to use it, sadistic satisfaction creeping across his face in the form of a smirk as he watched the other person cower, withering under his intense gaze.
He restrained himself and didn’t resort to violence, as much as he would have liked, knowing that you would be more upset with him if you found out he had punched your ex’s lights out and risked getting in trouble just because of you.
You always encouraged him to be a better person and rise above letting others get to him, so it was only because you were such a nice person that the person who had hurt you was able to get away with all of their teeth still in tact after facing your explosive boyfriend—and Katsuki made sure to tell them you were the reason too. Making sure to let them know that they had lost the best person in the world and even in spite of all they had put you through you more forgiving than you ever should have been.
And if it wasn’t someone he already knew? Well, it wouldn’t be long until the two got acquainted. Katsuki was smart enough to figure out who exactly it was using his grapevine of connections and it wasn’t long until he was pulling aside the person for a little talk that went similar to the one he would give if he already knew them.
Whoever hurts you would never be allowed back in your life as long as he has a say in the matter, and while sometimes you may be more forgiving towards most people than he is (it’s really not that hard to surpass him in this aspect), he makes sure to put down his foot when it comes to even giving your ex an ounce of kindness that would let them think that everything is fine now, the past is forgotten, and that they were justified in their action. Yeah, no fucking way did they deserve closure.
Katsuki is usually stubborn, but he bends easily when it comes to you—even if it comes with a bit of complaining once in a while—although this matter? Just let him have his way with this. He’s just trying to protect you, even if he knows you can handle yourself well. That’s just the way it is between you two. You give each other the space to do whatever the other wants, but at the same time, if either of you sees the other person going astray and about to make a terrible decision, a little reality check is well deserved.
Any guilt or doubt you may feel accompanied by worrying if you were too harsh to your ex when you ended on bad terms would be immediately stomped out by Katsuki followed by his attempts at motivational words (paired with a string of curses every so often) and a (huge) sprinkle of slandering your ex’s name. The whole thing was pretty endearing, especially because you could tell he was really trying, plus his insults about anyone who ever hurt you (not just your ex) were always funny to listen to.
He looked cute when he was mad, you had to admit, and with your mood greatly improved, you really have no choice but to give your boyfriend a kiss, both to shut him up and as a thank you. The short press of your lips against his would have him leaning in for more before you could even fully pull away. You never knew how long you spent in each other’s arms like that, your heart soaring higher every moment with amazement that this was finally your life, but you did know that you gave Katuski countless kisses within that time frame—each one yet another silent thank you for being your rock through thick and thin, cheesiness be damned.
Todoroki Shouto
Shouto knew he was reserved at times—never wanting to burden you with his troubles or have you worry alongside him about some trivial thing he suddenly decided had some semblance of importance. But he was trying, okay? He knew you knew that.
If anything, he confided in you the most out of anyone else in his life. His hidden thoughts about certain subjects were easily spilled when you two were alone and talking, the words flooding out of his mouth and crashing in waves over the remains of the crumbled walls you had broken down in him. His insignificant worries became easy to discuss with you and you always smoothed over his fears—in fact it usually hurt more not to tell you things now than it did to just keep it all bottled up.
Displays of affection increased in boldness as his comfort grew with you—no longer silently wondering to himself if you thought his professions of love were too much, or if you were simply being nice to him when you returned his spontaneous kisses.
He felt a sense of security with you that had warmth coiling around his heart with every smile you gave him, a new feeling that both left him pondering the implications late into the night while simultaneously lulling him to sleep with the comfort it brought. It was confusing and he absolutely loved it.
Once he got over his initial reservations about entering a relationship, Shouto was able to see you for what you really were—someone who genuinely loved him. There was no doubt about it and he felt silly for ever questioning your bond at the start and thinking you would ever want to leave him for someone better any time soon.
As he shared more with you, slowly letting himself be consumed by your presence, your unwavering support became more and more apparent.
He was someone you trusted even before you officially started dating, sure (you two had had your fair share of late night over sharing more times than he’d like to admit), but this was different. Relationships could make or break anything. He had seen it himself with his parents after all.
It was terrifying at first, like falling in an endless black hole, but once he let himself relax—really lean into the fall—he came to appreciate the weightlessness, the wind carding through his hair.
Something still felt off though. Not necessarily wrong per say—nothing was ever wrong when you were around as far as he was concerned.
Shouto doesn’t know exactly when it was that he noticed it—it may have been when you dodged a question about what you did over the weekend, or maybe when you didn’t offer details about your own thoughts on a particular hero rescue mission video you two had seen online, or maybe it was the way you seemed painfully conscious of watching how much you revealed about your plans for the future. Or maybe it was a combination of all of those things.
Whatever it was, it was obvious you were hiding parts of yourself, almost as if you didn’t want to get too attached to him—that couldn’t be right, could it?
You really did seem to like him and he didn’t think he had misjudged your affection, but the more Shouto thought about it the more he realized how little he truly knew about you. It was as if you were prepared to disappear from his life at the drop of a hat. What was going on?
Once it became apparent to him, he began to notice it more and more, doubt creeping up in his mind with each and every incident. How had he never noticed this before? Perhaps it was because you revealed enough that he never questioned it—most surface level things seemed fair game, more or less, but it was the deeper things you seemed hesitant to share. The things in your life you held near and dear to your heart were always hidden under convoluted answers that blanketed the fact that everything you were saying was intentionally vague.
He had to get to the bottom of this and soon, otherwise he was sure he would combust from the overthinking.
Shouto was fairly straightforward and blunt at times, so he asked you point blank one night as you two sat out on his porch swing one night, facing his backyard with a giant blanket draped over both of you as you curled your legs up on the swing under it and leaned back on the array of fluffy pillows lining the back of the swing. The night was clear and the stars glimmered in the sky, which was the whole reason you two had planned this little “date” anyway—to do a bit of casual stargazing while relaxing together and enjoying each other’s presence.
Shouto couldn’t seem to completely relax though. There was something that kept tugging at his mind.
“You didn’t answer the question.” The biting statement had come out soft because he didn’t mean to sound like he was outright accusing you of anything, but you seemed to tense up all the same, turning to look at him bewildered.
‘Is it really that big a deal?’ he wondered. You seemed apprehensive at him “catching you,” as though being forced to reveal the information to him would have some sort of terrible consequence.
“W-what?” You blinked at him and he turned to fully face you, rather than glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
“I asked if you ended up going to the arcade or amusement park last weekend. I remember you told me that none of your friends could agree on which one to choose,” he said simply, eyebrows furrowing in confusion now—for some reason, he didn’t think it would go like this. You were reacting differently from how he thought you would, seeming more paranoid and anxious than ever. It made him worried. He genuinely wanted to know the answer as well. He had been contemplating an amusement park date, having heard his fair share of others gushing about sharing a romantic Ferris wheel ride at the end of the day, and he’d like to know if you enjoyed the experience if you did go, if you’d like to go with him if you didn’t end up going with your friends, or if he shouldn’t take you there at all because you’d already went and didn’t want to go back again.
“Um…” You looked away from him and back up at the stars illuminating the sky—your eyes swiped over them as you tried to count a few and calm the racing in your heart. “We, uh… we didn’t end up going to either of them. I just went over to one of their houses for a pizza night with two of the others. Not that many people, don’t worry.” That last detail of not interacting with a ton of people seemed important to include for you, but Shouto was simply puzzled by the way you spoke it—as though you were trying to convince him you hadn’t done anything wrong, rather than just mentioning as a causal detail. The emphasize on it had him wracking his brain, trying to decipher what cryptic meaning there was behind your words.
“Oh… but I saw you with a wristband when you came back. I just didn’t get to see if it said it was from the arcade or from the amusement park.”
It wasn’t like he was trying to set a trap for you—he had just simply remembered at that moment the purple band wrapped snugly around your wrist when you came back from your hang out session—the telltale sign of an admission bracelet to some sort of event. You were allowed to have fun of course—hell, he didn’t care, he wasn’t much of one to try and stop you from doing what you wanted anyway. He was just curious. To you though, the words took on a completely different meaning as you searched for the underlying truth of what he was really thinking and you felt cornered and small with the presentation of this new information. It was suffocating. What would he do now that he knew you lied?
“Ah… yeah, I forgot about that… must’ve slipped my mind…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say much more, not sure what else you would say anyway.
You glanced back at him and could see that he was still watching you. You looked away quickly, heart beating fast.
You heard him breath out through his nose and you could tell he was thinking. “It’s okay. You didn’t have to tell me. I was just wondering,” he spoke quietly and you instantly felt bad for hurting him like that and making him think you didn’t want to talk to him.
“Shouto, I-” You let the words die on your tongue, not knowing where you were going with them anyway.
“(Y/N)… you know, truthfully, I’ve been noticing it a lot.” You were looking at him fully now while his gaze was focused downwards, playing with the soft fabric of the blanket that was keeping you two warm. “You don’t have to tell me things if you don’t want to. It just feels like there’s a lot you’re not telling me. I just wanted to ask why. At first I thought it was just once or twice it happened, but now I see there’s a lot of little details I don’t know about you.” He was back to staring at you now, blanket still clenched between his hands as his fingers continuously soothed over the fabric. “Is there anything I can do better? I don’t know if you feel comfortable around me… but I feel comfortable around you if that helps…”
It was as though you were in a trance as you listened to him speak, hanging onto each and every word, and you bit your tongue lightly to break you out of your speechlessness and shake yourself back to reality.
You sighed and shifted uncomfortably in your seat, running your finger along the seam of one of the pillows you were leaning back against. “I, uh… just have a hard time trusting people… I don’t know…”
Shouto took your hesitation as a sign that he was digging into something much deeper than he originally thought and he decided he shouldn’t force it—if it really was something deeper than a surface level bump in a relationship that could be solved relatively quickly, then he would give you the time to tell him on your own.
He felt like such a jerk for how he brought it up—it seemed that this was tied to a deep issue and a sensitive topic for you and he had just brought it up like it was nothing. What kind of boyfriend was this obvious to your struggles?
He released his grip on the blanket and looked back at the stars, choosing instead now to fidget with his hair, running his fingers through it twice before realizing he should probably stop doing that. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but… I’d like to be someone you could trust.” He planned to leave it at that, aside from apologizing later again and showering you with affection, hoping you could forgive his embarrassing moment of pure insensitively and selfishness. His plans of how to smooth over the tension hanging thick in the air were put on hold though when he heard you speak again.
“No… you know what? You deserve to know. I’m sorry for all of this. I do trust you. I don’t know what got into me. If anything, I trust you the most to tell about this. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner.” Your bitter laugh at the end surprised him and he met your eyes. With you both looking at each other, you felt emboldened and ready to make the truth known.
You reached over to lace his fingers with yours and he let you, automatically moving so he could sit closer to you. “(Y/N)?”
“Shouto…” And with that you revealed the true reason you had always been so careful with your words around him, the source of your guardedness, and the experience that left your heart wounded—your last relationship.
Shouto, already having berated himself before for approaching the situation so brashly, knew to stay quiet now and let you speak, only reacting with twists of his face in shock, horror, or disgust because he was appalled that anyone would ever treat you like that. He could feel his blood boiling.
At last you were done—your hands staying intertwined and resting on the blanket between you two the whole time—and just in time too, because he couldn’t take any more of hearing the heart-wrenching things you had been through. And yet here you were, still standing strong after having experienced it. Meanwhile, just the words and the way the vivid descriptions came to life in his mind were enough to make him reel, thoughts flashing back to his own childhood.
As you had spoken, you two had somehow shifted closer together, the proximity comforting you as you told the story. Now Shouto closed the distance to reach over and pull you firmly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the soft brush of his lips there and his warm breath as he held you close, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You blinked for a second, shocked at his sudden display of affection, before tightly wrapping your arms around him as well. The tears you had been holding in the whole time and masking under your wavering words full with emotion all flowed out now, the dam broken and nothing holding you back from sobbing against his shoulder.
Shouto was apologizing for how harsh he had been with you before and you could tell he really meant it—it sounded like he was mentally beating himself up over the whole thing and he was. He felt even more stupid now. Something this serious and he had never pick up on it? He really felt like the worst and vowed to always protect you. His own childhood trauma had left him with no one to console him and he refused for the same to happen to you. Neither of you were sure which one of you started it, but there was a constant back and forth of “I love you”s professed as you sat there, tangling in each other’s arms. That little reminder meant everything to you.
Now that Shouto knew why you seemed to have difficulty telling him things, he knew not to try to pry information out of you, but rather let you know you had his constant trust and support, hoping that you would slowly come of your shell yourself—and you did, feeling as though you were able to be more open with him now. His reassurances that he would never try to control you in any way set your mind at ease and with each day that passed you felt lighter and more carefree, no longer cherry picking at your speed and wondering what you should say.
It took a bit for you to break out of the habit that you had so carefully accumulated and improved to protect yourself, but Shouto was patient and willing to help, and you found yourself falling in love with him all over again.
Shouto is someone with a lot of power, influence, and money at his disposal, all thanks to his father—as much as he hated to admit it (although he would say that it came in handy at times like this). He would never outright tell you that he now had a personal bone to pick with your ex but… let’s just say you won’t have to worry about accidentally running into them ever again.
It’s likely you may not even notice the change, having already cut that person completely out of your life and being used to avoiding them like the plague or flat out ignoring them.
Although if you did notice them appearing less in your life, you may mention it offhandedly to him, maybe even questioning him if he knew anything about it.
He would answer cryptically, either saying “Huh, that is strange,” or “Don’t worry about it,” if you were eyeing him suspiciously, taking a sip from the cup of tea he had been nursing in order to hide the small, knowing smile that he couldn’t keep off of his face.
Kirishima Eijirou
Eijirou had always been a touchy guy, and you knew this, yet it still didn’t make it any easier to completely relax when you were snuggled against his chest, or when he would drape an arm around you without warning.
During the dates you had gone on before officially entering a relationship, he was always careful with his touches, but still made mild gestures—asking if he could hold your hand, or sometimes resting his hand on the small of your back when leading you out of a restaurant. You liked that—his touches were sincere and made you feel wanted again. He really was perfect.
A gentleman at heart it seemed, Eijirou was always respectful, yet those baby steps towards increased physical contact still set your heart aflame, no matter how hard you tried to stomp the fire out and remind yourself to be careful, heart beating fast because what did you do to deserve something so wonderful (it was the type of adoration that seemed to continuously bloom, beginning from the very first time you met him).
It took a while before he worked up the courage to ask you to put a label on whatever it was that you two had. He had sensed your cautiousness from the start when you two went on your first date—although he didn’t know the true reason behind why you were so closed off to love—and he had kept that initial impression of you in mind the entire time.
Usually he was one for breaking down barriers, pushing past the tough exteriors of others, and he did the same to you, but he also knew the guarded feeling you carried seemed different and he didn’t want to pry, so he was careful in his approaches.
Those slow steps that you loved so much from the start (the small touches and the gradual opening up to each other), truly resulted because 1.) he really was a gentleman (you were correct in that assumption), but 2.) unbeknownst to you, his mind was always working around you and when he picked up on your initial coldness (you may try to hide it, but he knows how to read people well), he made sure to be extra careful when it came to advancing things with you.
Forwardness cast aside, he took things at the pace you wanted, hesitant to ask you the burning question to make it all completely official in case that scared you off. He absolutely loved you and it would take him forever to get over it if he really did mess this up.
There was also the issue of him not wanting to wait too long and make you think he was stringing you along or wasting your time. He wanted to make his intentions clear sooner rather than later, but it always felt too soon and he was constantly trying to gauge your reactions.
Stuck in this limbo, Eijirou ended up asking you to be in a relationship before he even truly realized what he was saying.
Hanging out together on yet another fairy tale date, the thought occurred to him that with the way you two were already so close, to not be dating would be pretty weird. It was the obvious next step now more than ever.
And then the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even realized it and you were laughing—his heart sunk for a moment at that because oh my god he’s so stupid no way you’d actually want to date him, he’d totally misread the situation, but also sent his heart fluttering because your laugh and smile and everything about you was so cute and beautiful and amazing and-).
His fears were put to rest when you leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lacing your fingers with his where they rested on the park bench you two were currently sitting on, laughter still spilling out of you, although a bit more controlled now.
You told him that honesty? You thought you two were basically dating already and he was just the type to not say anything and just assume you knew, so you’d been going along with it this whole time.
His mouth was hanging open at first, but then a giant dopey grin crossed his face and you were wrapped up in his arms, pulled to his chest in a bear hug.
You sighed contentedly—this felt right.
Your floating on cloud nine didn’t last forever though and soon you were spiraling back down to Earth, plummeting harder towards it than you had floated up.
It seemed that now that things had been said out loud and it was confirmed that you were really together, the whole thing began to weigh a little heavily on your heart. You were still head over heels in love, and being with him was definitely what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you accidentally did something wrong and completely ruined everything, whether due to your paranoia grating on his nerves eventually (as patient as he had proven to be, you knew everyone had their limits) or because he simply got fed up with you and things turned out like last time.
You had deluded yourself into believing you were fine before, but you really knew that the only reason you allowed yourself to be so comfortable around him during those first few dates was because he hadn’t officially asked you out yet. Now that he had and this relationship was a real thing, your breath caught in your throat the more you thought about how things went the last time—it had started off just like this, perfect… maybe even too perfect.
Eijirou wasn’t like that, you knew it, but you kept wondering what if this is the day that the switch flips?
Stuck in your own mind over the issue and reluctant to talk it out left you jumpy around your new boyfriend—fuck, you hated it, but you couldn’t stop your body from reacting before you mind could soothe it with rational thoughts that he was one of the most caring people, if not the most caring person, you have ever met.
He, of course, took the whole thing wonderfully like the perfect person he is, even if he didn’t know the real reason why you suddenly seemed so opposed to physical contact, just causing you to feel worse because how could you keep making him think that this was his fault.
Hugs, hand holding, and cuddling on the couch still seemed among his favorite things. You liked them too—the security and warmth was addicting—but what had been normal during the pre-dating phase, now became a sore spot for you.
You had felt butterflies at this touches before (now you wondered if perhaps the reason that you were able to lean easily into those touches were because you could just imagine he was one of your friends—a hot friend with soft lips who you kind of, sort of wanted to spend forever with—rather than some guy that held your heart in his hands), but now your mind was kicked into overdrive each and every time.
There were times where he would immediately pull away if you seemed overly stiff and unsure, apologizing profusely. You didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t him that was the problem—you wanted to be in his arms, protected and warm, you were just having a hard time adjusting to the intense love he always provided.
He was always so attentive, noticing if you had a distant look in your eye, asking you what was on your mind. You felt bad, absolutely horrible. Why were you always so tense around him? You had taken time to heal on your own, waiting a while before getting back into the dating scene. You knew what you needed, you knew how much time you needed, and you most of all knew that you didn’t need some big strong guy to save you from your thoughts. You just needed him to understand that. You thought you could forget the past, bury it—you were independent and didn’t need the support.
You briefly wondered for a while if perhaps you weren’t as ready for a relationship right now as you thought—maybe you need more time?
But then that idea was immediately squashed—no, you would not let what happened to you rule your life any longer. You deserved to have someone as great as Eijirou, and he deserved someone as amazing as you, and most of all, you really, really liked him. And it was because of the reasons you liked him—his caring attitude, his innate understanding, his watchful eyes that were always soft with emotion—that you decided to take the leap and just outright tell him everything.
A quiet evening of domesticity felt like the right time—a relaxed mood set as you two winded down from the day at his house. You were seated across the kitchen table from one another with him typing on his laptop and occasionally pausing to scroll or contemplate something (he would interlace his fingers, elbows propped up on the table and hands resting against his lips with a small frown before his eyes suddenly lit up with an answer to whatever question had been plaguing his mind). You, on the other hand, you very much attempting to write in your notebook, but so far all you had accomplished was to mark the edges of the pages with senseless scribbles, not even able to bring yourself to properly doodle little stars or hearts like you usually would.
You flicked your pen between your fingers, either quietly tapping it against the blank page in front of you (you wanted to tap it against the table to hear the satisfying thumping of the wood, but you didn’t want to disturb Eijirou) or against your cheek. You could feel his eyes on you every so often when he would very briefly glance up. He probably thought you were deep in concentration because he never said anything about your troubled look, although it seemed like he wanted to. Ah, damn, you really did love him—why was he always so caring, even if it came in little gestures like this? You hid a smile to yourself as you thought about how at times he could seem conflicted between always checking up on you but also loving to watch you work. Cute.
Truth be told, you were deep in concentration, but it wasn’t about what he thought it was. Rather, your initial concentration had been broken so many times by your incessant thoughts that you finally decided to give them the attention they had been demanding. There was no way you could work like this, as told by the tug on your heartstrings. There was really only one thing to do at a time like this and you just knew it was the right time. It’s now or never.
You chewed on the tip of the pen cap for a second in quiet contemplation, before steeling yourself and speaking. “Hey, um… can I talk to you about something?” You didn’t tear your gaze away from the page in front of you—eyes tracing the lines of scribbles as though they would give you courage—until you had finished your sentence. The words rang in your ears as they pierced the comfortable silence that had only been broken by small noises of shuffling before. As the last syllable slipped out, you looked up, watching to see what he would do.
Eijirou snapped his head up to you with wide eyes and blinked. “Of course, babe, what’s up?” He shoved his laptop to the side, but then after a quick moment seemed to decide that wasn’t enough and pushed the top down for good measure to make sure you knew you one hundred percent had his attention.
His immediate reaction to your words was both because he had heard the ting of worrying in your voice—your tone serious—and also because he always hung onto your every word anyway, always listening carefully to what you had to say. His attention was always yours.
You glanced away from his intense gaze and hummed in thought, twirling your pen around. You motioned for him to come sit next to you, which he did without hesitation, rounding the table and pulling out the chair next to you with a quiet squeak against the floor. While he did that, you pushed out your chair a bit also so you could comfortably turn to face him at your side.
As he sat down, he dragged his chair closer to yours until they were almost touching, and then when you pulled your legs up and angled yourself so you could sit crossed legged on your chair, he did the same, taking your cue—he was watching your moves so carefully, wondering what was wrong, that he mimicked the action barely thinking. Your knees rubbed together and you cracked a smile at that—one he mirrored—but then your solemn expression returned.
A deep breath and you let the pen slip from between your fingers, roll out of your hand, and land back on your still open and still embarrassingly blank notebook. Then, you turned to look Eijirou in the eye, determined not to back down now, and gave him another small grin to set his nerves at ease because he looked so worried (once again, cute).
“So…” And that was the shaky, uncertain word you began on before your story began to flow out of you, the words whistling past your lips with gradually increasing confidence as you went on—the way you saw it was that even if it was hard, you had gotten this far in the retelling so you might as well see it through. It took a lot of willpower, but you had set your mind to this and would not allow the past to ruin your current relationship. Eijirou was silent throughout it, although just having him there and watching his facial expressions (twisting in anger, sorrow, disbelief, and million other emotions that you didn’t know the names of but could feel deep in your heart with just one glance at him) was enough to keep you grounded and continuing to let it all out.
Despite your best efforts, tears managed to escape your eyes, increasing in ferocity the deeper you went , but you quickly wiped them away—a signal to him to just wait, give you a moment, you could handle this, even though it was very clear that he simply wanted to comfort you.
And then, as abruptly as you had started, you were done, the last tortured word coming out. “And, um, here we are I guess…,” you simply shrugged as you awkwardly tried to wrap up your monologue. “I don’t know…”
Eijirou was quiet for a moment, lips slightly parted, as though he was waiting for you to say something else and he didn’t want to accidentally interrupt you and stop the stream of raw emotions you had been so vulnerable to share and entrust with him—he wanted to know everything about what had been torturing this whole time so you would no longer have to step on eggshells around him. When you breathed out a deep sigh of relief, chest suddenly feeling airy and light, your head clear, only then did he accept that you were done and ready for his reaction.
He almost reached out immediately to pull you to his chest, but stopped himself quickly before his arms could even shoot out. You could see how his hand had twitched from where it lay in his lap—it was about to reach out, but he had stopped it almost right away, and it was clear that he really wanted to wrap you in a hug right now. As much as he wanted that though, he also knew that he didn’t want to suddenly grab you after you had just opened up to him and relived that horrible experience in your mind.
Memories of when he had so casually pulled you to his chest before without knowing what was wrong filled his head and he felt so guilty. How could he never have noticed this before? Would you even want his comfort right now?
You found his current display of just wanting to be supportive endearing though and gave him a slight nod to signal that it was okay. That was all the confirmation he needed before he had you pressed against him, arms tight as they looped around your back and warmth radiating from his chest. You took a breath in and could smell the soft, comforting scent that he always seemed to carry. Just being held like this as he rubbed soothing circles on your back with his thumb seemed to open the floodgates and soon you were openly sobbing, embarrassed because he had never seen you like this before, but also feeling encouraged to finally let everything out as he coaxed the tears out of you with quiet murmurs of “It’s okay, babe,” and “I’ve got you, baby.”
Not long later, after you guys had both calmed down—you from the overwhelming emotions that had taken over you, and him from his anger at your ex and his heart-aching feelings at thinking about what you had been through—you two were cuddled up in his bed.
Eijirou had made you a hot cup of tea and after you had chosen to burrow under the blankets, he followed suit as you asked him to join you (he was still being cautious about not doing anything you didn’t want).
You two discussed your relationship and what the new information you had shared meant for you both. Assurances of how much you loved each other were sprinkled throughout the conversation and Eijirou said he would ease up on the spontaneous touches for a little bit until you felt more comfortable (they still weren’t completely gone though because you loved them—it’s just that he now knew to be a little more cautious about that sort of thing), and you made sure to let him know that all those times you had tensed up before hadn’t been because of him but rather because of your memories. He knew what to look out for now and as observant he was about you, you knew that he would even pick up small cues of discomfort, although you could already feel yourself slowly letting go of your tension.
Now that you had explained everything and that weight was off of your chest, you felt so much better. Plus, hearing him directly assure you that he would never dare to hurt you like that gave you a feeling of relief and greater trust in him. Just something about you being open about the whole thing made you feel that things could finally be normal now.
Your suspicions were right, things were a lot better after that, and Eijirou could tell that you saw physical touches as a sign of comfort now, rather than something you had an internal struggle with, and through slow steps again like you had taken at the start, you were able to get to a place where you no longer felt apprehensive about the topic.
Eijirou would be your protective safety blanket whenever you needed it, although he also knew you were strong-willed and didn’t always need his help either, so he was content staying on the sidelines if you really seemed like you could work through something on your own, although he was always ready to comfort you if need be.
The tipping point when it was really confirmed that Eijirou would protect you no matter what it was when you two ran into your ex at a convenience store one day.
Eijirou was browsing the snack aisles not that far from you while you were looking over the sweets they had lining the counter near the door. You could still see each other over the top of the mini-aisles since the shelves were short, and Eijirou was talking to you about all the snacks he was contemplating on getting, asking your opinion as you occasionally replied to his chatter over your shoulder, piling the things you wanted into your arms as he no doubt did the same.
You were about to call back out to him and turned to look over your shoulder, stepping towards his direction automatically, having found one of his favorite flavors of a certain sweet you two always ate, when you noticed someone standing behind you, probably looking at the shelves for things they wanted as well since the place was pretty small and everything was cramped together.
“Oh, ah, sorry…” You awkwardly turned back to what you were doing, tucking the package of what you were going to show Eijirou under your arm to bring to him later, and shifting away so that the other person would have more room to continue shopping, feeling a little embarrassed. You hadn’t noticed their presence before because you had been so busy eyeing all of the delicious goods right in front of you.
“Hm? Oh, that’s alright,” they replied nonchalantly and you just nodded silently and gave them a small smile and a sideways glance in response.
You froze when you saw that they were looking back at you intensely and recognition flooded your senses. You knew that voice sounded familiar, plus when you had glanced at them before when you first bumped into them something seemed to ring a bell but you had simply brushed it off.
While you were filled with instant dread at realizing who it was, the other person, now able to see your face clearly, seemed to light up with delight at seeing that it was really you—as if they had just run into an old friend. “(Y/N)! Woah, is that you? Long time no see!” What was your ex doing here? What were the chances? It just seemed like the universe cursed you with bad luck.
You could vaguely make out Eijirou’s voice under the ringing in your ears as you took a step back, away from your ex—which they just seemed to take as cue to turn more fully towards you, both of you now facing each other.
Eijirou seemed to have noticed you not replying and came over to you, arms piled high with bags of chips and other packages of both of your favorite snacks. “What’s wrong, babe? Ooo, what’s that you’re holding, it looks g-” He paused, having followed your gaze to see you staring at another person, and finally noticing the newcomer just as they went on talking about how great it was to see you. Eijirou took this as a cue that you knew this person. “Who’s this? One of your friends?” he asked with a grin, looking back at you.
You ignored his question, unable to think, and shakily greeted the mysterious person back. Eijirou could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. But then you said the name of the other person in your greeting and something clicked in his mind—that was the name of your ex. How could he have forgotten? The memory of when you had told him all of the horrible things they had done to you was now at the forefront of his mind and he swiftly moved in front of you, gripping his snacks closely to his chest to prevent them from toppling out of his arms at the sudden movement. His warm expression had melted into one of distaste, glaring at the person in front of both of you, blocking them off from your path.
Eijirou tried to get your ex to leave peacefully with thinly veiled threats, making it know he knew exactly who they were and what they had done to you, but your ex fought back, saying that they were simply talking to you and refusing to go just yet. You were cowering behind Eijirou, still shell shocked, and tugging on his arm lightly, trying to get him to just forget about it and leave with you, not feeling up to deal with conflict of any sort right now, especially any involving your ex of all people.
“Who the hell are you anyway?” your ex bit out, fire in their eyes.
“Me? You mean the boyfriend who’s about to beat a nobody like you’s ass?” You could see how Eijirou’s fists clenched as he said that, packaging crinkling under his fingers.
Your ex scoffed and peered around Eijirou to look directly at you. “Boyfriend, huh? Can’t believe you managed to snag someone else.”
You had to grab Eijirou to hold him back after he heard that comment, trying to juggle your mountain of snacks in one arm while firmly gripping onto him with your free hand.
The look in your eyes when he glanced over at you in confusion and the way you refused to let him go made it clear that you didn’t want him to get in trouble just for you.
That didn’t stop him from slandering the other person with a healthy dose of threats though and despite your ex’s stubbornness, Eijirou finally managed to get them off your back. You two quickly paid for everything you had already picked up and left the store not long after. Eijirou would make sure to shoot your ex one final warning glare if they were still in the store or if he saw them right outside.
Expect him to check up on you after the incident as soon as you’re far away enough from the store, offering to carry all of the bags for you and do whatever you needed him to do. “Are you okay, babe?” he would ask and would keep assuring you that he loved you and would never let that person near you ever again until he was sure that you had calmed down. He had seen the panic-stricken expression on your face back there and never wanted to witness it ever again. A kiss on the temple would be his way of sealing the deal and his promises to keep you safe.
Following that day, if you still had any previous reservations about your boyfriend’s loyalty, they all dissipated after seeing how fired up and serious Eijirou had become when it came to protecting you. He would give you all the comfort you needed after the run-in if you were still shaken up and would be very clingy and attentive. He would give you space if you asked, but would be at your beck and call for a while, wanting to ease the pain of the traumatic experience.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you and I’ll never let you go,” he would mumble into the top of your shoulder as he held you close, hands on your sides and thumbs slowly soothing the skin there with small strokes. And you completely believed him with all of your heart, and your trust was the best thing he could ever ask for and receive from you.
#tw: abuse#bnha x reader#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#bnha headcanons#mha x reader#mha imagines#mha scenarios#mha headcanons#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski#bakugou headcanons#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki headcanons#todoroki shouto#kirishima eijirou x reader#kirishima x reader#kirishima headcanons#gn friendly!!!#both for the reader and for the ex :)#i wanted to make it inclusive!! i hope these are comforting <3
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I've been obsessed with Lady Gaga's, "Judas" Song...and it gave me an idea for a short Fic. A Devil's Angel Tags: PG13+, scene of violence/death, Angel/Human!MC, DiavoloxMc, Spoilers for lesson 16 Part 1/?
Diavolo was a glorified demon, rivaling strength to only 2 other realm leaders. Of course, if you asked any obedient servant of the throne, he was naturally the obvious winner. So what happens when you have all of the strength a being could dream of and more? You "make friends" apparently. There was no way this all-powerful man could be up to such a light-hearted task. Perhaps it was his butler, Barbatos, with such knowledge and time who guided Diavolo to urge such a conclusion. Had the green-haired demon known a war was to commence? Was Diavolo truly unfit to win such a battle, and therefore needed another way out? These questions filled your head as you stepped into your new dormitory. You were a human, just not too human entirely. Angels essence filled your being thanks to your ancestor, Lilith. You had even met Michael himself years back when her memories flooded yours as the angel essence was supposed to take you to heaven. Long story short, you were in a temporary coma after a car accident. Simeon shook you out of your head with a hand on your shoulder, "remember why you're here." He said, with the same smile he always gave. It was too suspicious for a soon-to-be demon lord to be asking for unity, and god wanted answers. This is where you came in: a seemingly innocent human whose in an extremely unique position to gain an advantage; and more importantly, knowledge. Solomon joined you for your first tea with Barbatos and Diavolo, time allowing. Knocking on the door, you were met with the tired eyes of the butler. "Welcome, over this way." Barbatos guided the pair of humans and you couldn't help but notice how unnervingly perfect this man was. It was as if a board has been placed against his back, perfectly aligning his spine starting at his hips, threaded through his neck. Finally, he motioned towards a satin couch placed within an openly lit common area, decorated with lavish antiques, artwork, and instruments. Solomon broke the silence, "Ah, Auguste Allaire?" "Indeed." The green-haired demon replied, understanding his question without having to look at the painting Solomon was referencing. "I would like to clarify this meeting is to get to know our human exchange students," He began lifting a tray off his serving cart, finished with matching teacups and plates for the both of us, "As humans, it's of upmost importan-" Doors burst open, featuring a particularly muscled demon prince. "Barbatos!" Diavolo smiled so wide his eyes managed to shut. Not only was his personality loud, his laugh was louder. "Sorry, sorry! I'm late, aren't I?" If you were embarrassed, you can imagine Barbatos' reaction in his own mind. He simply sat down and motioned for his Lord to follow suit. It was at this moment you thought it was a horrible prank you somehow got involved in. Months would pass, much like the meetings you had with the royals. During these moments you were allowed questions pre-approved by Simeon. "Why do you want to unite the realms?" and "What happened to the king?" All of which never satisfied any angels curiosity. It seemed for that you'd continue this way forever, until the day you knew of him. The sun gently glazed over your skin, sending shivers at the unexpected warmth of the devildom morning. Of course, it was Lucifer. "I know you better than to sleep in, MC." His gaze shifts to your own, as his back turns to face the now opened curtain of your room. "I'm sorry, I don't usually sleep in unless I'm sick." You weren't lying, it was unusual. "Oh? Perhaps it would be best for you to stay home. I'll have Satan take notes in your stead." Lucifer retorted, sparing you no opportunity to argue back. Then again...this would give you an opportunity to explore the house, especially to find anything Diavolo's "right hand man" might be keeping. Simply nodding, you rolled the covers over your head and set the alarm for another hour, knowing well a mostly human like yourself couldn't escape their well-trained eyes to watch them walk away. At 8 a.m, you awoke to find breakfast in a tightly-sealed container. However, hunger
could barely invade the anxiety creeping upon you. First in priority was making sure everyone was gone, no one in the kitchen, bedrooms, studies, or observatories. Now it was finally time...you took the steps towards Lucifer's room, each slower than the last. Lifting the back of your hand, you knock only to realize the door opening upon contact. The air was noticeably cooler, and his record player opened, as if suddenly stopped. You draw your attention towards his desk, the obvious choice. As you go through paperwork, you realize you can't find any, despite the mountains on his desk every night. Of course. They must've been brought to RAD along with his briefcase he brings every day. But there had to be something. Anything. Go through his bookshelves: nothing. Flip through his records: nothing. The closest lead you've got is a sticky-note in his book with a quote. You take off, looking for any other places he could possibly be storing such sensitive information, then it hit you: the upstairs. Lucifer had made it such a point to not venture upstairs, could he have been more oblivious of such a hint? Honestly, it was still scary to think about going up to an unknown part of the house, but you had no other choice. After checking the time, you begin making the climb only to find a hallway with one door. A loud bang comes from an unknown direction, and you flinch, thinking someone had come home. Then a low chuckle comes from the room in front of you, nearly taunting. Once you gather your emotions, you continue onward to face whatever lay in front of you, only to find a normal-looking human. "who-" "oh, are you the new playtoy?" he responds, "excuse me?" You step backwards, out of reach from his hands, "I don't know what you're talking about." His smile fades, "oh, you must be another human.." He's human, too? "I know what it looks like, but you're not safe here. Ask about Belphegor. Meet me again when it's safe. He's coming back." the blue-white haired male shrinks back into the darker area of the room, and before you can process, your feet run down to your room. Not too long after, a knock fills the empty air. The handle turns, and Satan makes his appearance visible. "Wow. You do look bad. Maybe you should get back to bed." you shake your head, attempting to mask the heartbeat in your chest. "No! No, I'm fine, I swear. What's in your hand?" attempting to avert his attention, you point to the notebook in his hand. "Oh, that. Well I came here to study with you since I heard you missed the day." Satan moved in towards your bed, laying the notebook on your bedstand and flipping to the nearest filled-in page. "Here's the theories we went over, and the elixir's following. I've already taken geography so I brought my old textbook to help, and then there's realm science." You hold your hand up for him to pause as you look over each notes. "Wait, Griffins horn? I thought it was powdered unicorn hoof." He smiles, "Nice catch. We go over it next semester, some things can be substituted for higher-grade materials depending on the molecular structure. If you take a look at..." Satan proceeds to take your mind off the previous situation for the next two hours. That is, until you get lost in thought. "MC? MC, snap out of-" "Who is Belphegor?" you interrupt, leaving him speechless. He clicks his tongue, hand on temple. Everytime he attempts to talk he groans in frustration. Panic settles upon your face unsure of what you had just asked. Had he just set you up? Was he another demon out to steal your soul? What will they do when they find out. "What do you know?" Satan manages to find words, "I-" you begin to lose yours. What does Belphegor mean? It seems like a name but what if- "You know what? I don't want to know. Keep it to yourself." He gets off from the edge of your bed and slams the door behind him. This wouldn't be the last time you heard of him, nor the last you saw. The next morning was eerie. You weren't dead, but..it somehow felt like it. No one came to let you know of breakfast, even after a few minutes of waiting. It
wasn't like you wanted to show your face either, you felt naked. When you did arrive, everyone at the table remained silent besides minimal conversations. Beelzebub no longer tried to steal your food, and Asmodeus wasn't trying to flirt with you. When Lucifer announced it was time to head to RAD, a weight had been lifted from the silence. After opening the door, you noticed another figure beside him. "Good morning, Mc. May I trouble you in taking you out of classes for another day?" Barbatos lightly tilted his head as his eyes looked upon your soul. "O-Of course." You took the hand provided, as he lead you to the castle. When you arrived, Barbatos told you to make yourself comfortable in the first living room. Before long, Diavolo appeared alongside him. "Mc! It's good to see you!" he beamed, arms opened for a hug. "And you as well, Diavolo." Quick to your feet, you met his courtesy. He brightened further when you returned his affection. "Do you by chance enjoy flowers?" Thinking back to the celestial realm, you nod. Taking your hand, he shows you to the garden out back. "Out of everything I was not expecting a garden.." "Really? What did you expect?" His arms crossed and he moved closer towards you, watching your expressions as you gathered your thoughts. "Well, for a demon, maybe stone statues or torture devices." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Is that what humans think now? Are we that cruel?" Diavolo jokes, until Barbatos chimes in, "Times have changed since young masters reign." as he finishes, you notice the plate of gourmet sandwiches prepared for the two of you, placed on a garden table not too far off. Together, you shared the next two hours together chatting alone. Without distractions clouding the brain, things seemed to appear as usual. The brothers began talking to you as normal, including Satan. Simeon hadn't brought up any information or lack thereof since the last meeting with Diavolo and Solomon. In fact, Diavolo seemed to be taking more time out of his schedule to spend with you alone, rather than the two human exchange students. It was nice, for a change; until you remembered what occurred with the Belphegor situation. "So, why did you ask me here in the first place?" Diavolo noticed your body language shifting for a few minutes now, but he knew something was coming at this point. "Today? Well, I enjoy the company of-" "No, Dia. When you first brought me to this garden." It couldn't be helped, you had now formed a friendship with Diavolo. He knew too much about you and how you truly acted when you were yourself, rather than the puppet an angel could use. Emotions conflicted, parts of you yearned to let loose, yet at the same time, what if it was all just an act? What if you had fallen right into his trap, and he knew all along? Just like the dictator Michael had expected. Putting his cup aside, he took a brief pause before answering. "Satan told me that day what had occurred. I thought it best to ensure my exchange student's --" Diavolo stopped as you stood up, allowing your exit. "Tired. So fucking tired." You thought to yourself as you made your way home to the house of Lamentation. Of course, not only did the oh-so-friendly prince take you out of classes once a week, he adjusted your course schedule to reflect such changes. All you could think was how pathetic you are for allowing this to happen under your watch. You never felt fit for this job, but never more so in this moment. Hesitation couldn't be found as you made your way up the stairs into the room. "You're back. Angry. Cat got your tongue?" He was obviously trying to rile you up and it was working. "So who is Belphegor? Are you trying to get me killed?" At this point, he bursts out laughing, "you think this is funny?!" you scream out. "Very." He stops, looking directly into your eyes. "And you're only helping me escape. How about I tell you a secret? I'm not even a human. I know you understand that by now, but I'm Belphegor, the last brother. And you just helped me escape." Before you knew it, hands wrapped around your neck. It was
gentle enough to find release, running downstairs and towards the front door. It was always apparent there was risks, but that's why you had the angels blessing! So why are you so close to death?? Before you could turn the handle, it moves itself. Belphie takes the chance to knock you off your feet, immobilizing you and landing you upon your back. The door opens as Belphegor protrudes claws into your most vital organ, and cold rushes over you, processing the last visuals of Lucifer's shock with Diavolo behind him. "Open your eyes." You wince. He's on top of you, how could you look? There's no way a human could escape the wrath of a demon. "Did you forget about me?" the voice echoes. What? Opening your eyes, you find nothing but white space. Suddenly, a door appears in front of your body. "Don't waste it. And don't forget where you came from." Lilith? There's no way...but then, this couldn't be a dream. It felt too real. On the other side of the doorframe was your last visual before you died, from another perspective. Glimpses flash from her own memories as it floods into your own.. in a flash, your perspective of yourself and the brothers around you changes. You could see the door Lucifer held opening in mere seconds. He froze, in shock of seeing Belphegor out. What's more, the man behind him couldn't see. The red haired demon pushed through, to find the worst fate. Immediately transforming, he flies to your dead body's side. Anger wouldn't be enough to describe what you witnessed in his eyes, nor the grief he was going through. This wasn't normal. Nothing in your body felt that what you were watching was normal. A king's priority should be on subduing Belphegor, and here he was at your deceased version's side. Suddenly, Belphegor's words filled the air. "DON'T FUCKING DARE, FOR THEM? HAHAHA!" You've never heard such a deranged laugh before. Lucifer's eyes opened even further upon processing what Diavolo was accomplishing. Tears couldn't be found in Diavolo's face, he was far beyond it. Whatever was happening, Belphegor didn't dare interrupt. "L-Lord Diavolo, you can't sacrifice yourself for-" Diavolo paid no mind to his right hand mans attempt at stopping him, taking a deep inhale, hands at his horns. "I apologize mother, but I can assure you I won't be wasting your gift." time slows further as Diavolo begins to pull away at his horns. "STOP." Every head turns to look at you, including Diavolo. It wasn't until you died that it hit you. The moments before anyone realized you came back you saw his selfless actions for yourself.
#obey me lucifer#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me fic#obey me diavolo#obey me fanfic#obey me mc#omswd#obey me swd
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and i repeat: anthropo-ceramics geto suguru is the type of toxic where he'd take your virginity, make a sculpture about the experience, then smash it on the ground as a metaphor
this ask is my entire life. this ask is my lifeblood. everyone please saddle up for the ride of a lifetime, otherwise known as 1500ish words of toxic geto featuring sukuna being a good fucking friend – please continue at ur own risk this absolutely contains geto being a pretentious toxic fucker and mentions of virginity/first time but yes i guarantee it does have a happy ending (link to the full college! cinematic universe here)
let’s begin with the basics – why wouldn’t you fuck geto suguru? he has the type of beauty that lingers on the back of your eyelids even after you’ve long since departed from him; it’s the kind of fragrant, lasting beauty that you think sculptors muse over when they coax life from their marble. he’s smooth, like still water, and calming, like the sound of birds rustling and leaves swaying at dawn. he is helen: a beauty that nations would go to war over.
and sure, he is pretentious, the kind of toxic pretentiousness that festers inside of all pretty boys who call themselves “leftists” but can’t be bothered to call their mothers or to care about their partners. but it’s the way he speaks, the way he looks at you with such fervor and attention in his eyes that you’re utterly willing to let him break your heart.
and maybe it’s not often that someone looks at you the way geto does: it’s not often that someone looks at you like they want you, body and soul. and it feels nice to be cared about, to be flirted with, even if the figure doing the flirting condescends you in a way that is different, harsher, colder, than the way ryomen sukuna does.
so geto suguru takes you on dates. after the avant-garde poetry reading, in which you feigned excitement as he recited a poem on global imperialism that you didn’t quite vibe with, he brings you to local bookstores with overpriced yuppie memoirs, farmers’ markets with organic fruit, human rights protests and philosophy meetings where greasy boys bitterly discuss the communist manifesto. he takes you to dinner, too, to vegan restaurants that you can’t help but rave about on yelp later and to bars where they serve your cocktails in mason jars.
geto suguru, for all his faults, is incredibly lighthearted with you; he makes you feel beautiful and desirable and warm, even when he’s explaining anthropology to you with such intense vigor that you lose track of his meaning. after everything, you’d be lying if you said you regretted your time with him.
after awhile you let geto fuck you – and yes, he was your first time, which you were naturally quite nervous about. but you appreciated him because he waited for you; he never pressured you into behaviors you didn’t want; he never asked you for services you weren’t ready to provide. and so when you slept with him, after an invigorating open-mic night at the fair-trade coffee shop near campus, you felt ready for the intimacy. geto made you feel attractive, comfortable, safe. he praised you the whole night, gave you caresses that lit you up like fireworks, provided such a level of god-tier aftercare you still reminisce about it, even now.
but that’s the thing about anthropology-ceramics major geto suguru: he’s quietly toxic. he’s a poison that sneaks up on you, infecting your bloodstream when you least expect it.
you weren’t sure if geto wanted to pursue a relationship, either. you’d fucked, sure, and you went on dates, but he was always the type to avoid long-term commitments. rumors float around campus of the many partners he’s ghosted, of the relationships he exploited for his own “artistic musings.” they aren’t loud rumors, to be sure, but they hang around his aura like a strange, ghostly scent.
geto is a pretentious little fuck. you’ve known it and agreed to enter his circle anyway. maybe you hoped, perhaps naively, that the rumors would simply not apply to you.
which was a stupid idea. three weeks after the experience, since which you have only spent one-on-one time with geto only a few times, mostly to talk about school, the art department hosts an art show. it’s a regular occurrence, where the art students show off their best works, grad students display their in-progress theses, and outsiders can browse the displays, drink wine, offer to give outstanding students jobs and internships. it’s truly a big fucking deal for the art department; many of the school’s the most successful artists received their first acclaim here.
you’ve always enjoyed attending, even if the level of talent and expertise sometimes intimidates you, even if you know you’ll never be on this level. you know sukuna’s got a few paintings lined up to be on display – paintings you’ve modeled for, drawings you’ve watched him labor over for hours on end. you reckon that for all your begrudging time together, you might as well show your face in support.
but what you didn’t count on was geto’s contribution.
at this art show, there are, every now and then, some interactive performances, speeches, explanations on certain works. so it happens that from the back of the auditorium you watch geto take the stage, wheeling a small, white sculpture behind him. from your perspective it could have been a flower – perhaps a lily, but you can’t be certain.
(geto always did like sculpting precious, dainty flowers.)
he doesn’t call you by name, but he doesn’t have to. he talks at great length in that smooth voice of his about the construct of virginity, the purity culture plaguing the globe, the emotional sensitivity of having your first time. geto seguru tells an avid audience what you felt about fucking for the first time. he recreates the entire night for two hundred listeners: he recalls the foreplay, the insecurity, the orgasms. he doesn’t call you by name. he doesn’t have to.
he may have asked for your consent the first time. but he certainly did not ask your permission to do this.
you’re not sure if you should laugh or cry when geto dramatically smashes his own sculpture, citing the “destruction of virginity” and the need “to demolish a social desire to classify one’s morality based upon their sexual activity” and “the symbolic popping of the cherry” among other phrases that are utter bullshit. you’re watching the fragments dance across the stage and you feel exploited. you feel used in a way that feels utterly worse than anything else geto could have done.
did he ever like you? or were you simply a muse for this moment?
you’re about to ditch the art show and go wallow in self pity at your apartment when a familiar presence slides in beside you.
“that’s kinda fucked,” sukuna says, hands in his jacket pockets. he’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye. his tone tells you he’s joking. maybe he just doesn’t know. “no one gives a shit about virginity constructs anymore, idiot.”
“yeah,” you respond, but the energy is gone. you feel strange, like you’re hovering outside of yourself. your head hurts: you’re angry. you decide you’d like to cry when you get home. “what a piece of shit.” it comes out strangled and lost.
sukuna notices the dejection in your voice, the sag in your shoulders, the way you’re just barely able to hold yourself together. he may be arrogant, not ryomen sukuna is not mean.
a familiar arm around your shoulders, keeping your sanity together. “shit’s lame. let’s get the fuck out of here.” it’s a phrase that captures everything that remains unsaid between you: i’m going to beat the shit out of geto the next time i see him. that’s absolutely unbelievable.
you never explicitly told sukuna about your weird relationship with geto: you didn’t have to. it was always evident to the both of you. it was written in the way you’d look a little bit longer in geto’s direction, in the way you let yourself be strung along and become someone else. you’ve hung around sukuna long enough that you know his body language and that he knows yours. you’ve hung around sukuna enough that there are a lifetime of stories that never need to be told.
you nod. “yeah.” thank you. i know.
you’re both uncharacteristically silent when you exit the auditorium, when you collect sukuna’s belongings that are still lounging by his artwork as you prepare to leave. ryomen sukuna is famous for never shutting the fuck up. but as you button your coat, he’s silent, and it’s strange. comfortable.
“thank you,” you say with uncharacteristic softness as he throws a sketchbook back into his backpack and zips it shut.
“why?”
“for asking my permission,” you say, gesturing to the gallery wall behind him, to the painting of you – “eros” – that you had posed for awhile back. even now, you find that it captures an essence you did not know you possessed. “he didn’t. ask, i mean.”
ryomen sukuna has always craved your attention. and maybe he’s glad he’s got it back – but it feels sour. he doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking upset for you. he doesn’t understand why he wants so badly for you to be happy again. what he does understand is that he plans for retribution.
“that’s fucked,” he settles on. “what bastard doesn’t ask for consent?”
you smile – and he does too, one that’s less feral and almost kind. and so you fall back into routine, already, some kind of weight lifting from your shoulders. ryomen sukuna may be a menace, but you can rely on him, trust him: that much you know.
“you know,” sukuna says offhandedly as you exit the building and enter the parking lot. “i know where geto’s car is, i’m just saying. and i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have an extra precision knife in my backpack right now.”
#IDK YALL#SMTH ABT THIS JUST MAKES ME FERAL#IF U NEED A FOLLOWUP U KNOW WHERE THE ASK BOX IS#sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#adele writes#artist!jjk#letters to adele#geto.seguru#ryomen.sukuna
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