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#instead of no mention of anything other than 3 choices all made at the very end of the last game
halfelf · 10 days
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how it feels with every new piece of info we get about veilguard
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bolognamayhem117 · 6 months
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Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.
Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.
There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.
He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.
He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.
He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.
He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.
He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.
The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.
In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.
Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.
Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.
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jarofstyles · 2 months
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Strawberry Sunrise
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Helloooo. Welcome to part one of a short series I’m doing. I’ve been dying to do a sporty/ personal trainer sort of thing so I’ve picked this back up after abandoning it for a bit! Please leave feedback if this is something you’d like to see more of on here!
Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2-3 and 180+ exclusive writings
Warnings- mention of stalking, consent, gym culture, men being creeps, smitten H, anxiety
WC- 3.8k
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Harry had always enjoyed the gym.
The burn in his muscles was his release of choice, choosing to express his innermost emotions with working up a sweat as he ran miles on the treadmill, muscles straining as he lifted and knuckles sore as he worked the bag. He’d spend hours working out purely for enjoyment and release in his time off, not only for the burn but from the community surrounding it. That being said, it made a lot of sense that when he got tired early on in the corporate world, he decided to become a personal trainer. A really successful one at that- thankfully, considering his father had been very skeptical at the profession change.
Working at a higher end gym, the facilities always remained spotless. There was a sauna and steam room, an in-ground heated pool and jacuzzi room, lush locker rooms with wooden locker cubbies and provided locks and fluffy white towels, and even held a boxing ring on the bottom floor which he loved to spar in in his free time. It was in a refashioned warehouse, lux looking in a rustic way.
He built his career and clientele over the span of a few years and had gotten into the groove of it fairly quickly. Working with positive reinforcement and meditative breathing before and after each session, people found his presence calming and many trusted him to help get them to their potential- which he proudly did. His routine varied but it always ended the day with a smoothie from the smoothie bar run inside the lobby. Choco PB, Mango Delight, or a Strawberry Sunrise with extra protein were his go tos.
One of his new favorite parts about his job, though, was the new receptionist at the front desk. Y/N.
A complete and utter sweetheart who, for a lack of better words, was a breath of fresh air in the usually gruff, testosterone filled setting. He loved watching her chat, even more watching her politely reject the many customers who tried to get her number. She didn’t seem to have a clue just how alluring she was. Her beaming smile and saccharine little giggle that made his toes curl, he was crushing on her big time. If he wasn’t afraid to risk her feeling comfortable at the work environment by potentially rejecting him, he’d have asked her out already but it was only 4 months in and she was a hit with everyone. He didn’t want to be the reason she left. Most of the other trainers were in relationships or married so she had been safe and had a good relationship with them all as colleagues, though Harry liked to flirt with her lightheartedly. He could tell she got her a little flustered and the arrogant son of a bit in him fucking loved it.
But what he didn’t love, though, was when she hesitantly found him with teary eyes after locking the front door with shaky hands as closing time finished and it was just employees of the gym. Her face was pale, spooked and Harry was not a fan of. Fear didn’t suit her.
“Harry?” Her shaky voice whispered. “I don’t mean to bother you at all, but if- could you wait for me before you leave? There’s… there’s that one guy, one of Liam’s clients? He kept asking me out and he got mad that I really said no and he’s been waiting outside at closing time and I’m just-‘I’m scared and….”’a quiver of her lip made his chest ache while also burning in rage.
Something he hated more than anything was someone who couldn’t take no for an answer, more specifically men who couldn’t let their bruised ego be healed in private, lick their wounds and accept that they’d not gotten what they wanted. Instead they harassed the other person as if the fucking answer would change. But to do it to Y/N? He felt enraged.
“He did what?” His mouth parted in surprise, brows pulling together as his shoulders squared up. Sure enough he could see a car parked right outside the door with the lights off, but someone visibly inside. Y/N parked close to the building and he must have known that. “Fuck, Sweets. M’sorry.” He groaned. “Absolutely not acceptable. M’gonna make sure Liam knows and that he’s dropped as a member here but of course I’ll walk you out. Are you almost done?” His hand reached for her shoulder to give an appreciative squeeze, bare skin meeting his palm. She wore a tank top with the gym’s logo and yoga pants, her name tag taken off already.
“Yeah- I just have to shut down the computers and sweep the front. Is that okay?” Her teeth chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry to keep you. I know you’ve had a long day and you have one tomorrow too, I just, I have a bad feeling and I’m scared. I wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t give me the creeps even before.”
Harry was vaguely familiar with the dude, mostly because he had snickered at Y/N’s polite attempt to tell him no to a date previously- but now, that wasn’t so funny. “Hey.” His thumb brushed over her skin. “Don’t apologize. I won’t hear it. Of course I’d do this for you, I care. I’d never let anyone be in danger, least of all you. You’re the best receptionist we’ve ever had and I’d be crushed if something happened to you. Everyone would.” Mostly him, though. His crush was real. However now wasn’t the time to deal with that.
“Thank you so much.” She sighed in relief, reaching up to squeeze his wrist. “I’ll only be a minute, okay? Just stand right there.”
And he did. He watched as she shut down the computers and grabbed the little broom to sweep up the little bits around the front desk, thanking Harry when he brought the trash can out from the front desk for her to pour the dust pan into. Her thanks was gracious, grabbing her keys and nervously following behind him as he made his way out first.
It seemed that the man hadn’t expected Harry to still be there, as he had parked further back in the lot. The look of surprise made Harry irritated as he directly went to the car, knocking on the window. The man hesitantly rolled it down a little bit, Harry’s arm braced on the hood as he leaned down to speak to him.
“Absolutely unacceptable.” He said straight. “She said no. Dunno what or how that translates to ‘wait for her after work to crowd and stalk her like a creep’, but let me spell it out for you.” His voice dropped lower. “You’re going to stay away from her. She isn’t available, not for you. You’re going to listen when women tell you no, and leave it fucking be. Know she’s a pretty thing but that doesn’t give you the right to follow her around.”
“What are you? Her boyfriend?” The man sneered, making Harry’s jaw clench. Was he dense? Truly?
“S’not your business who I am to her. All you need to know is that she isn’t on the market, stalking is unattractive and if you don’t leave her the fuck alone, I swear to you that there will be consequences. I’d suggest finding another gym, mate.” He patted the top of his car before pulling back, finding Y/N standing by the glass doors, wringing her hands. The look of relief on her face as Harry approached and the guy’s car peeled out of the lot made his anger worth every bit.
“Told ‘em off.” Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he walked with her to her car and made sure she got her bag in. “Hey- let me follow you home, yeah? I’ll give you my number and you can text me if he bugs you again but I’d feel better knowing you got in safe and he isn’t out there waiting for you somewhere else.” He wouldn’t put it past an idiot like that.
“Normally I’d try to tell you no, but I can’t tell you how much that would mean to me.” Her body sagged in relief as she took him by surprise, taking him in for a hug. “Thank you so much. I was so scared he’d try to take me or something, I watch too much Criminal Minds or something but.” She shrugged, pulling back far too soon. It had taken him by surprise and he hadn’t had nearly enough time to appreciate her sweet smelling, warm body against his own.
“Anytime, Y/N. Seriously. Your safety is important to me.” More than she’s known. “Let’s get going, yeah? Know you had an emotional day.”
—-
Harry had driven her home, smiling and beeping once she had gotten inside her apartment building but waiting to drive off before he had gotten her little text of ‘ inside!!! :-)’
He spent the rest of the night trying to work away his anger, cooking a quick meal before heading off to bed. Y/N was too good for shit like that. He’d shot a text to Liam letting him know he told his client to fuck off and he’d help find another but was assured that it was a good loss anyways, which only helped ease him. The girl wouldn’t have to deal with it again.
He just hoped she would be okay.
—-
The next morning he was greeted by her smiling face, melting off the apprehension he had felt all morning. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail with two loose tendrils around her face, looking as cute as ever as she waved at him.
“Hi, Harry!” She chirped. “I’ve got a smoothie with your name on it when you’re ready for it later. Thank you again for helping me last night.” His membership card was quickly scanned and handed back. Her smile was infectious, making his own rise on the corner of his lips.
“Yeah? I’m glad to have helped. I’m here for anything y’need, Sweets.” If only she knew how far that could go for her. Maybe it was better she didn’t. He was really into her but he was hyper aware of how it could come off now, so he would proceed with caution. “I’ll hold you to the smoothie when m’on my lunch.”
For the first time in quite a while, Harry had a hard time concentrating on his sessions. Of course he poured himself into it as much as he could, but he couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How shaken up Y/N had been and how she had been so appreciative. He couldn’t help it, because he’d already had a crush on her and the fact that she trusted him enough to come to him for help made him really happy. He was also still mad that the man had crossed such big boundary and genuinely scared the hell out of probably the sweetest girl anyone’s met.
Being in his own head also explained why said girl scared the shit out of him, making him jump as he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Jumping from the stool, he turned to a wide eyed Y/N and tore the earbuds out of his ears with a very, very embarrassing yelp. “Shit! Y/N, you scared me.”
As if it wasn’t obvious.
“I’m so sorry!” She peeped, hand over her mouth. “I said your name and I didn’t see you had in your earbuds. I’m so sorry.” Her babbling was very cute, but he didn’t want her to feel bad.
“It’s okay- just made me jump.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Shit, it’s my fault for sitting here with them on at work. You did nothing wrong.” His palm squeezed, making her shoulders relax just a bit. Thank god. There was no effort to remove it as he continued on, and no effort to step away from him. “Y’said something about a smoothie, yeah?”
His grin was probably a bit too big in regards to a smoothie but he hoped like hell that she would join him at the little tables they had set up. They were in the reception area, a bit public for his taste but considering what had happened last night he figured that was a better option than the break room. It was a delicate thing and he needed to go about it carefully. He really, really didn’t want to muck it up because his dick got ahead of his brain.
Although, she did look spectacular today, if he could say that.
“Yes! I was going to grab one too. What kind would you like?” One of the duties of the front desk people was to man the smoothie bar when needed. It wasn’t super demanding and the recipes were written out in a binder-
Harry would know because he’s had to do it before too- but she seemed to enjoy making them the times she’s done his. “I’m going for the Strawberry Sunrise and some energy boost.” Her hand squeezed his wrist before it was removed and she glided behind the bar, ponytail swaying as she did so.
“S’a good choice. Simple and effective.” He nodded in approval. “Think M’gonna go for… the chocolate peanut butter, if that’s alright?” His fingers drummed on the surface of the counter, slightly nervous habits showing when she was around. It was difficult to think. Even if he was this charming, charismatic, outgoing guy- he still got a bit flustered when talking to a pretty girl who was suspiciously angelic in looks and in appearance.
“Of course it’s okay.” Her laugh echoed in his ears. “I told you, it’s my way of saying thank you. Now sit and look pretty while I finish these.”
Harry was glad her back was turned because his face was most definitely flushed. Did she call him pretty? It seemed so. The man definitely didn’t go to the gym looking like a slob, but he had much better days outside of it. He liked to play around in fashion and the gym left little to experiment with unless he was okay with a sweat stain or ruining it. That’s why he wore cuter bandanas around his neck, or his stack of fabric bracelets that were meant to fall off. They were made of string and easily replaceable but they added color to his otherwise bland outfits he wore to keep from ruining his good outfits.
Apparently the last thing she had said was enough to keep him on his head until she finished, the large orange and white striped cup placed in front of him. “They’ve got to get rid of the styrofoam cups and do paper.”
Y/N sighed, looking at her own with a little frown. “I’ve suggested it but manager said we got to go through these before he’s gonna reorder. It’s only a few cents cheaper too, I was snooping on the order form.” She grumbled, making Harry smile. Y/N was known for her environmentalist tendencies and it only added to why he liked her. “Or, do like… have a bottle washing station and let us sell reusable cups with the gym logo and people can use those! Anything but these.” Leaning in closer to him, he caught her perfume as she let him in on a ‘secret’. “Plus, I fucking hate the sound of styrofoam. It makes my skin crawl. ASMR gone wrong.”
Harry swore he fell in love w little bit when she pulled back, laughing along with him as he nodded. She was fucking adorable and his hands itched to grab hold of that ponytail and keep her head still so he could kiss all over her face. Could you get cuteness aggression over another human?
“S’a great idea, actually.” He nodded, taking a sip with a hum. Y/N did the best smoothies. Shakes? He never was sure what to call them. “And you’re right. Styrofoam is awful for the environment and ears. I usually bring my water bottles every day but the amount of plastics we see here… S’a shame.”
“Exactly!” She slapped her hand on the counter. “It would only cost a little more to be more efficient. Do more water fountains so they don’t have to bring those plastic water bottles. Those are also on my hit list, when people crinkle those bottles…” her nose wrinkled in distaste, grabbing her cup and going around the counter. “Where did you want to sit, by the way?”
Harry’s heart grew three sizes, he thinks, when she was the one to initiate their time together. He’s been mulling it around in his mind, how to ask her to sit with him but apparently they were on the same page. “F’you want to sit out here we can, or we can go to the employee lounge. It’s your choice.”
“Do you mind if we go to the lounge? I had to talk to you about something, if you don’t mind.” It was then he could see her shifting nervously on her feet, cluing him in to something else. Was the guy still bothering her?
“Course we can. Lead the way.” He extended his hand, letting her lead as he tried to figure it out. Y/N was a somewhat nervous person by nature and he knew from watching her pick at her nails or bounce her leg, twirling her hair or rearranging pens often, but he didn’t like the idea of her nervous around him.
So when they sat down at one of the smaller tables in the empty lounge, he let his concerns be known. “Are you okay? You seem a little nervous.” He bumped his knee with hers, bringing the smoothie up to his mouth for a sip as he studied her face.
“Yeah! Yeah I just…” there was a pause, her nails dragging down the cup to make a pattern. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night. I felt really safe with you and I’m really grateful for your help- you’ve no idea. I was scared if end up in a ditch by the time anyone came in this morning but….”’her teeth worried her bottom lip. “I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else. You’re not always going to be here. And I know- I know the people here are very strong and bigger than me, most of them anyways- but I need a way to protect myself.” She took a big breath before the words rushed out. “Do you think you could help me with self defense? Even just a little bit, I can pay you or clean your house or something I just really….” Her frazzled expression broke his heart. “I don’t want to feel helpless again.”
He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That he would stay every night and walk her to his car, that he would take care of her but the truth remained that he couldn’t always guarantee that for her. Sometimes he had to leave early, sometimes he had to stay later than her and it was just not possible. What she asked was absolutely the right thing, but he hated that she felt helpless.
“Y/N.” He crooned. “Of course I will. It’s not even a question, I’d be more than willing to help you out.” She must really not know his crush on her if she couldn’t see how he was mentally tripping over himself at the idea of spending time with her. It would be a double win. She could help herself and he could spend time with her alone. “I want to say M’really fucking sorry that men are shit and that you even have to worry. If I’m here when you’re getting off of work, which I usually am, I’m more than happy to walk you to your car, but I understand.
I hate that you feel helpless. You’re a lot stronger than y’give yourself credit for.” His hand reached for the one laying on the table top, holding it a lot more confidently than he felt. She squeezed it back, though, so a win was a win! “We’ll have t’do it after hours, though, if that’s alright? Just stay a bit longer after work. My days are really full right now and I know you’re working most days here so it’ll have to be a weird schedule but you don’t need to pay me a cent. Let me do this for you for my own peace of mind, yeah?” His eyes searched her face, like he was trying to find an answer for a question he didn’t know. “Was worried out of my head last night about you.”’
Y/N seemed to visibly relax, a smile growing on her soft little lips and her entire energy moving to a warmer one. What he didn’t expect, though, was for her to throw herself into his lap for a big hug. Y/N had always been touchy, but he never thought he’d end up with a lap full of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen whispering her thanks as her face tucked into his neck.
God, he hoped he smelled decent.
His arm wrapped around her as he clumsily put his drink down in surprise, stroking her back as she squeezed him tight- and it was like a dream. Soft body against his own and engulfed in her scent? He was happy if she never moved from here. Unfortunately she did, peeling herself up and her beaming smile making him melt. “Thank you, thank you so fucking much. You can have anything you want in return. You don’t have to think of it kow but… I trust you the most here.” She admitted, clamoring back into her seat. “You’re the coolest, H. Thank you again. When can we start?”
Harry knew he was in trouble when he wanted to cancel the rest of his day and offer it to her. She’d sent him through a wind tunnel of wild thoughts and his body was still reeling from having her so close, but he had to try and hold it together.
“Why don’t we start tomorrow?” He offered. “But be prepared to work up a sweat.”
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erwinsvow · 8 months
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𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.
author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!
now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana
word count: 3.8k
warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.
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“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.
You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.
That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?
But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.
So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind. 
“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.
He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.
So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.
“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”
“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean. 
“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.” 
You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background. 
“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.
“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?” 
You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.
Then, Rafe looks down at you. 
“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”
You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before. 
They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone. 
So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.
The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.
It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project. 
You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.
“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.
You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.
Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction. 
“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.
You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.
You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you. 
He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.
He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times. 
You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.
Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.
In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call. 
He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.
“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.
He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.
“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”
Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.
You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.
Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.
Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear. 
“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.
He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet. 
“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-” 
It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.
Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you. 
He doesn’t.
“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”
When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.
“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?” 
He feels you nod your head slowly.
“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend. 
“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.
“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.
He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.
“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”
“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up. 
“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”
“I promise.”
“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”
“I promise, Rafe.”
“Good girl.”
He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything. 
Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.
You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy. 
When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.
“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t. 
“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”
“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”
You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.
So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying. 
“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.
“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.” 
“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”
“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.
The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.
“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.
He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting. 
You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.
“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.
“I should ask you that.”
“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”
“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck. 
“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence. 
“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. 
“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”
You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.
You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.
Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.
“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you. 
“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”
He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.
And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move. 
“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.
“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.
In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set. 
The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.
“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”
He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak. 
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”
“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly. 
Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.
“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-” 
Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow. 
He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over. 
You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.
He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it’s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.
“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.
Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck. 
He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal. 
“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you. 
“We’ll get it in a minute.” 
He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.
You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.
“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”
“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."
“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you. 
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Text
I See You, Darling (3)
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[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.| 
Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game
Part 2 here!!
Next Part here!!
As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.
Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.
The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.
And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.
Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.
By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps. 
This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.
As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you.  What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.
Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted  him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.
You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—
“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.
“Astarion,”  Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while. 
“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”
The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.
Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.
“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”
You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.
 “I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.
“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.” 
This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.
“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”
The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both. 
And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them. 
“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath. 
Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.
You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.
The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him. 
Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.
“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew. 
“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.
But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it. 
—————————
After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.
Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.
You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.
You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do  with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.
You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel. 
If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.
Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet. 
—————————————
As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.
You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.
Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake. 
But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself. 
The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.
“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.
In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.
‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.
“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”
“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.
“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.
“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…
What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.
He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.
Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.
“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him. 
He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.
With that, you strengthen your resolve. 
“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.
“Really? I–”
 “Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.
“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.
He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.
So he graces you with what mercy he can give.
The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.
A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.
You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.
When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.
Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.
You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.
Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.
You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.
But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.
As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself. 
“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.
The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.
You worry about waking up tomorrow.
But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.
For himself and for everyone else’s sake.
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Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!
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hearts4golbach · 3 months
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ABC fluff headcanons for carrington??
ABC Fluff Headcanons.
pairing:
Carrington x Fem!Reader.
a/n:
not proofread
warnings:
sexual stuff mentioned
word count:
1.2k.
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A- affection. (How affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)
he is so affectionate. sometimes you have to pry him off of you when you need to go to work or leave.
B- Best friend. (What would they be like as best friend? How would the friendship start?)
literally your dream best friend. you'd have the kind of friendship where you don't really know when it started, but you're super close and that's what matters. you'd run around and record with him all the time. you two would be like Jake and Johnnie, but y/n and Carrington. :).
C- Cuddles. (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
he loves cuddling. he loves being as close to you as possible and would never let go of you if he had a choice. spooning is his favorite. sometimes he lets you be the big spoon, and he loves it more than he'd like to admit.
D- domestic. (Do they want to settle down? are they good at cooling and cleaning?)
he definitely would want to settle down after a little while. he's pretty average at cleaning, and cooking isn't one of his strong suits. he'd learn to make your favorite meals perfectly, though. eventually, a few certain meals made by him would feel gourmet.
E- ending. (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
truthfully, he wouldn't be able to face you if he wanted to break up. he'd call or text, but most likely not break up with you in person.
F- fiance. (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)
Carrington thinks marriage is useless. he'd rather get you a promise ring and call you his wife instead of being legally married. Commitment doesn't scare him, but he thinks marriage is unnecessary.
G- gentle. (how gentle are they, both emotionally and phsyically?)
Carrington wouldn't hurt a fly. he's very gentle, even though he's very rambunctious. he knows how to comfort you, so there's never conflict. he doesn't treat you like you could break at any moment, but he is in fact very gentle. to him, you're more precious than anything and anyone and wants to prevent losing.
H- hugs. (Do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)
you usually hug him first, and he always appreciates it. he squeezes you tight. he lives when you hug him so he can smell the new shampoo you've been trying or your signature perfume that reminds him of your first date.
I- I love you. (how fast do they say the L-word?)
he'd say it pretty soon in the relationship, most likely before the 3 month mark. he doesn't go throw the phrase 'i love you' around. if he says it, he means it.
J- jealousy. (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)
he gets extremely jealous. no questions. he doesn't care who it is or what the situation is, he always gets jealous over the smallest things. he's not overbearing, though.
K- kisses. (What are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you?)
his kisses are actually magical. his lips are very soft, for sure. he loves to kiss your lips, that's his favorite. he also loves kissing your stomach (especially when he goes down on you) and your neck, of course.
L- little ones. (How are they around children?)
since he acts like a little kid (sometimes) he's amazing with children. if it's not annoying kid, he has fun whenever he's entertaining them. he loves to entertain people in general, and kids are probably the easiest to do so.
M- morning. (How are mornings spent with them?)
'you rested your head on Carringtons bare chest, cuddling up closer to him. it was a cool morning, if 11 am is considered morning, and you were laying in bed comfortably with your boyfriend. one hand gently scratched your back while the other ran through your hair. he loved spending the mornings like this.'
N- Night. (how are nights spent with them?)
whenever you stay the night, he loves having mini dates. whether you order out, make dinner, watch a movie, or just cuddle he never leaves your side. especially since his schedule is super busy, he gives you his full attention.
O- open. (when would they start revealing things about themselves? would they say everything all at once or slowly reveal things?)
if you're open with him, he's open with you. hell come to you about problems and you do the same. he tries very hard to communicate effectively and in a healthy way.
P- patience. (how easily annoyed are they?)
you two go around annoying eachother. since your humor aligns, it's hard to really annoy him.
Q- quizzes. (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail or easily forget aspects of you?)
his brain sucks up every little detail about you like a sponge. he knows you like the back of his hand.
R- remember. (what's their favorite moment of your relationship?)
his favorite moment would be the first time you played minecraft on stream with him. that night caused so many inside jokes to be created. gaming together really strengthened your bond.
S- security. (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)
he is veryyy protective. someone looks at you in any suggestive way? he makes sure it's known that you're his. if someone is threatening you, he's ready to take a bullet. he really loves it when you protect him from hate online, but he doesn't need that kind of help.
T- try. (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
he loves celebrating any tiny event. whether it's a birthday, anniversary, collab, promotion, you two are celebrating. whether it's in bed or a small get together, it's recognized. Celebrating anniversaries is one way he shows how he loves you. he brings you little gifts and trinkets from the places he records or events he goes to.
U- ugly. (What would some bad habits of theirs be?)
whenever he sleeps in, he just gives up the whole day. he spends the rest of the day being lazy in bed (if his schedule allows.) he also has a habit of being exactly 2 minutes late to almost everything.
V- vanity. (how concerned are they with their looks?)
he's always overparanoid about his looks, especially around you. he knows he's somewhat attractive, but always wants to look the best he can. he wants to be perfect around you.
W- whole. (would they feel incomplete without you?)
is this even a question? you're his other half, and if you're not with him he's not totally himself.
X- Xtra. (a random head canon for them.)
sleeps with socks on. you hate it when you're cuddling and his clothed foot tickles your leg.
Y- yuck. (What are some things they wouldn't like?)
he is definitely not the type of boy to go on outdoorsy dates. in the city, it's hard to do so and he doesn't enjoy them.
Z- ZZZ. (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
he'll either sleep in until noon or wake up at 6 in the morning. there is no in-between for him. he talks to himself while he sleeps. he'd be sleeping and you'd hear "boi what the hell boi?"
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penkura · 5 months
Text
last forever [6/13]
Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.
Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)
Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on
Note: This got away from me, it's over 6k words, I'm so sorry. But, here's Robin and a bit of development between our lovely couple, I suppose. I do love Zoro, I promise.
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[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5]
“Looks like we've shaken them.”
A round of whines from your crewmates is heard, making you smile slightly.
“You guys should be happy.”
Another whine, this time making you giggle while Zoro stares at everyone else.
“Stop that. What's wrong with you all?”
“I miss her!!”
Leaving Alabasta the way you did, barely able to say goodbye to Vivi and Karoo, with her decision to stay in the kingdom rather than join you all at sea, it was rough. You missed her greatly too, but understood her choice and accepted it. You still had Nami, at the very least it wasn't just you and a bunch of boys.
“If you wanted her to stay, you should've taken her by force!”
Hearing the insults everyone throws towards Zoro makes you laugh, even as he looks up at you on the upper deck in annoyance. You wave with a smile still on your face before he looks away. Strangely, things haven't changed much between you since he told you nothing romantic would be happening. Sometimes you feel an ache in your chest when you look at him, thinking about it, but you've come to accept Zoro probably would never take back what he said or try to court you. Once you had some kind of response from your parents, you two would sign your annulment papers and move on, living as crewmates instead of faking being husband and wife for your safety.
“I do agree with Zoro, you guys,” your smile softens as everyone looks up at you in surprise, “I love Vivi too, but if we wanted her to come along, we should've just kidnapped her.”
“[Y/N]!”
“Of course, that would've made us worse criminals,” jumping down from the upper deck, you stand beside Zoro with your arms crossed, “so it's better we let Vivi stay like she decided to. We'll see her again.”
While the rest of the crew agrees with you, Zoro is surprised you're being so agreeable with him after your discussion the other night.
Well ‘discussion’ is putting it lightly and in more positive terms. Sanji confronted him the next morning and mentioned how you'd ended up in tears over what Zoro said to you, making your temporary husband feel bad for a bit. He hadn't meant to make you cry, he was just telling you the truth. Romance was the farthest thing from his mind, it shouldn't even be in yours right now. There are too many other things to worry about, your goals and helping Luffy become King of the Pirates were the main ones. Helping everyone else with theirs was secondary, romance or anything like that was so far out of his mind, he never thought of it being a thing he'd have to worry about.
When he looks at you, all you do is smile, before Zoro shakes his head to move on and get those thoughts that you're still upset out of his head. You probably are, but it's not something to worry about right now.
“Looks like we finally escaped the firing squad.”
“Yeah, finally.”
“Excellent work, swordsman.”
The newest voice makes you all freeze in shock before everyone starts to freak out. Your hand is on your sword but Zoro is in front of you before anything happens, the rest of your crew moving into position against the dark haired woman on board. You barely recognize her as Crocodile's partner Ms. All Sunday, and you're curious about her reasons for being on your ship.
While Sanji swoons over her, Nami and Chopper start to hide behind you behind Zoro, Usopp is shouting warnings, and Luffy is shouting questions, Nico Robin does little more than smile, before saying she wants to join the crew, giving her reason being that Luffy saved her life back in Alabasta.
“I was determined to die, and you saved my life. That's your crime. So I decided I would join you.”
“Well,” Luffy nods and crosses his arms, “Guess it can't be helped. Welcome aboard!”
“Luffy!!”
The next little while is spent with everyone quickly changing their minds about Robin, for the most part. Usopp interrogates her but still believes her to be dangerous, until she pulls a trick with her Devil Fruit powers making him, Luffy, and Chopper burst out laughing. Sanji is smitten simply due to her being a woman, and Robin handing over a bag of jewels to Nami has them in each other's good graces.
Zoro intends to hold out, he's not going to trust her so easily when she was out to get you all until just a few minutes ago. He halfway expects you to do the same, though he doesn't expect the next exchange between you and Luffy a few moments later, once everyone has settled and you're able to pull your captain aside.
“Luffy,” you stay quiet, only he and Zoro can really hear you while Sanji continues to fawn over Robin as Usopp and Chopper ask her to show more of her powers, “Do you really trust her? I mean…she did work with Crocodile.”
Luffy gives you a bright grin and nod, which you return slightly. “Yeah, it's fine! She's not a bad person! You can tell too, can't you?”
“Mm.” You nod, deciding to trust in Luffy and his decision. You climb up on the railing beside him, taking the extra fishing rod to help him get something for dinner. “I'll trust you then, Luffy.”
“Great! Now let's get something good for Sanji to cook for dinner!”
“Haha, right.”
No, you don't miss how Zoro doesn't say anything, instead turning away from you and Luffy, avoiding Robin as she attempts to speak to him before looking at Luffy and asking if he'd gotten any bites yet. She was trying to fit in with you all, Luffy trusted her and she seemed to trust him. You're willing to give her a chance, even if Zoro isn't.
You're sure there's going to be a discussion about this later, and you definitely aren't looking forward to it.
+!+
“You can't be serious that you trust her.”
“Zoro,” you sigh and shake your head, rubbing your forehead a bit. Your head is starting to ache at the thought of a possible argument, “I didn't say I trust her.”
“Oh, and what's your reasoning for not being skeptical? She was our enemy not even three days ago!”
“I get that…but it sounds like she trusts Luffy.”
Zoro sighs heavily and shakes his head at you this time. He's not sure what to do with you, he doesn't want to fight with you about this, but it seems to be the way it's going to go.
He just doesn't trust Robin and doesn't get why you, who seemed to have worse trust issues than he did, ever would.
“And when she betrays us?”
“She won't, Zoro.”
“You don't know that! She could be using Luffy saving her as an excuse to get information and take it to the government or another pirate crew!”
“Oh good lord,” You're nearly glaring at Zoro while he almost snarls at you over the situation, “you are the most untrusting, stubborn man I've ever met! I don't trust her yet, who I trust is Luffy!”
“Luffy doesn't know what he's doing with her! She said something she knew he'd like to hear, she's not safe!”
“Luffy is our captain!” You didn't know your voice could get this loud, nor did you think Zoro's ever would. The rest of the crew must be getting one hell of a show if they could hear you from the storeroom right now. Though, if they could, you're certain Sanji would have run in to defend you and Robin by now.
“What does that have to do with this?!”
“He makes the decisions! If he thinks Robin is safe, I'll trust Luffy!”
“You're being as much of an idiot as our captain is!”
No, he doesn't really mean it, but Zoro wants to get his point across. You should be cautious, wary of this new person who, yes, was your enemy just a few days ago. You get that, you really do, but if Luffy thinks she's a good person, then…
“Yeah, sure! I'm an idiot because I trust our captain's choice!”
“Yes you are!”
“And you're a stubborn, untrusting dumbass!”
Well you've never called him such a name before, and that's more surprising to Zoro than anything that's happened today. You've both said too many things, probably things you don't mean, but it's enough now that he's done with it all. Done with yelling or trying to talk to you about it. He knows you won't listen, you'll both just end up trading insults and he doesn't want that anymore than you do.
So instead, Zoro pushes past you to leave, stopping briefly for one more thing.
“I want those papers later. We don't need to wait on your parents anymore.”
Zoro doesn't let you respond before he's heading back up the stairs, Luffy calling him for something that he's more than willing to do if it means being away from you for now.
You, however, do feel bad for the names you called him, and wish you had stopped him quickly enough to apologize. Had you been able to properly get your words out, maybe Zoro would have listened instead of fighting with you about Robin's recruitment. Instead you both let your emotions take over, said things you didn't mean, and now he was wanting the annulment papers.
Way to go, [Y/N]. You're getting an annulment and probably losing your closest friend.
+!+
Robin finds you with the logbook a couple days later, while everyone else is off the ship checking out the latest island you've docked at. She's not that surprised that you're the one who's keeping track of your adventure, you just seemed like the right person to write out everything that happened. If it wasn't you, she would've expected Nami to be keeping track.
“Anything interesting to record, Miss Logkeep?”
Humming a bit, you nod and finish the sentence you were writing, leaning back as Robin sits across from you. You're still recording all the events of Alabasta, trying to find the words to put everyone's perspective into the log appropriately. Making sure you had all the information meant having to speak with everyone, and with you and Zoro at odds for the moment, it felt like somethings were missing, and you likely weren't going to get anything from him until you two made up somehow.
You haven't taken your annulment papers to him, he hasn't asked again since your argument. Honestly you hope he's forgotten and will let things be until you hear from your parents or he changes his mind entirely. Maybe it's useless to hope for that, but until he asked for them again, you're going to hold onto that hope.
“Yeah, trying to finish Alabasta but…”
“Need someone else's side?”
“Mm…” You nod again, and Robin gives you a smile.
She had heard the argument you and Zoro had, so she knew very well that you two weren't really speaking. Even though it was due to her presence, she didn't say anything to let on that she knew, instead deciding to keep that to herself to see where things went with the two of you. It sounded like you were extremely close, and she'd like to see what your relationship with Zoro really was like.
“Forgive me if I'm prying, but are you and the swordsman close?”
You bite your lip a bit, wondering if you really should trust her with such information. It's not like you have to reveal your temporary marriage to Robin, Zoro would likely demand the papers again and actually sign them this time if you did so. After a moment of back and forth with yourself, you sigh and nod, closing the log with your bookmark in place.
“Yeah, we traveled together before we met Luffy. About eighteen months, I think.”
While you start to relay your story of how you met Zoro, met Luffy, and came to suddenly be a pirate, Robin just smiles and listens to you. Though you and Zoro aren't speaking much right now, you seem happy to be talking about him, like there's something there that even Robin is missing. She's not sure yet, if you have feelings for him, but the smile on your face and the slight blush you seem to have tells her she's on the right track.
“He's saved me from drowning, you know.”
“Has he now?”
You nod again, still smiling. “Not since before we joined Luffy, but a few times. My parents didn't teach me how to swim, Zoro's tried a few times,” you laugh and look at Robin, “I'm not very good!”
Robin laughs with you and gives you a smile. “Sounds like you really like him.”
She has you figured out, Robin thinks, while you blush a little and smile slightly before nodding. You simply have a crush on Zoro, and it seems he doesn't reciprocate it right now. That might change, because she has seen how protective of you Zoro is, having witnessed it first hand when she showed herself on Merry and he was in front of you almost instantly. Although she doesn't yet know all the details of your relationship, she's keen to see what happens.
When Sanji calls you all for dinner, Robin watches you and Zoro. You may not be talking to each other, but you still stay close, seated by each other without much thought, though you don't say anything to Zoro nor does he to you.
Robin knows you two will make up somehow, eventually. It seems as though you've been through far too much together to let one fight come between you.
And if you all do make it to the sky island, there might be a decent chance of seeing how well you two work together in battle.
+!+
“Come on, it's not water.”
You stare at Zoro from the Merry's deck, unsure if you believe him enough to jump down and join your crew. Finally arriving at Skypiea was a weight off and on your shoulders, with how thin the air was you felt like you couldn't breathe at first. Once you were used to that, you thought you were away from the water enough that you didn't need to worry about drowning, until watching Usopp nearly drown to death in the endless cloud sea.
Even with seeing Luffy, Chopper, and Robin freely walk through the clouds without any effects, you still weren't sure about it. Of course, you had no real fear of the water, you'd be a terrible pirate if you did.
However, knowing your inability to swim, you try to be careful on the ship, and not knowing how the Sky Island was, you were more worried than anything, even with Zoro trying to coax you off the ship and say you'd be safe.
You two have barely spoken since your argument about Robin joining the crew, so seeing him try to help you is a surprise. You're both stubborn but Zoro more so than you, which is what led to you spending more time with Robin and getting to know her, trusting her and knowing that she's no longer a threat.
Zoro's not at all impressed with you and how you've avoided speaking to him lately, but leaving you on the ship was not happening in his mind, not when everyone else had left and others were even calling for you. Luffy shouting for you to hurry up, Nami promising it was safe and you wouldn't drown, and even Sanji calling for you and saying he'd found something for you (likely the same flower you'd seen him give Nami and Robin, but it was a sweet gesture).
After another moment watching you debate, Zoro sighs and sticks a hand out to you, making you tilt your head.
“I won't let you fall. You know that.”
He's right, so you finally decide to go with your friends. Stepping onto and jumping off the railing with your shoes in one hand, the other grabbing Zoro's so he pulls you to him and keeps you from hitting the ground immediately, his other arm around your waist to help with that.
“Told ya.” Zoro sets you down and lets go of you once he sees you're stable, turning to follow after the rest of the crew before you grab his arm and stop him. “What?”
“I’m…sorry, thank you.”
“The hell you sorry about?”
“Not talking to you, calling you a dumbass, and fighting with you about Robin. I…we can…sign the papers later…”
Oh, that's what it was. Zoro wondered for a few days why you hadn't said anything to him about your marriage or your fight, he thought you'd just bring the papers to him later and say you wanted the annulment, not worrying about whatever your parents may think. He would've signed them if you did, but hearing the way you spoke just now, the slightest bit of concern and maybe sadness in your voice, it makes him shake his head in response.
“No, just…just leave it alone for now,” Zoro sighs but places his hand on your shoulder, moving you to walk in front of him, “Let's just join the others.”
Nodding, you don't miss how Zoro slightly squeezes your shoulder, before moving to keep his hand on your back and guide you, likely so you knew he wasn't letting you go so you wouldn't fall. It's a strange but kind gesture, even after he'd told you that he didn't have feelings for you and you two weren't going to be a couple.
Part of you wonders if he's lying, whether to you or himself, you're not sure yet though.
+!+
With all the trouble that Skypiea has brought you all, a night of rest and drinking was greatly needed, in your opinion. You'd all split off the next day to search for the city of gold and make your way to the end of sky island, but for now, you'll indulge in some drinks and laughs with your friends.
While he's still busy making food and handing it out, Sanji does, at one point, notice you grab a couple drinks and almost run back over to Zoro to give him one, before you go back to Nami and Robin nearby. How strange you two still are, in his eyes. You fight to the point of silent treatment, then start speaking again just earlier that day, and you're back to your usual self, bringing the mosshead things whether he asks or not. You're far too kind to Zoro, he doesn't deserve you, even though Sanji knows and understands the two of you aren't together. You do too much for him with nothing in return.
Although, rarely, Sanji has noticed that sometimes, it's Zoro who brings things to you in return. You've asked for a book once, something to drink a few times, and more recently had voiced your want for a snack, and were surprised by it a bit later when Sanji brought it to you.
“I…didn't even come ask you yet.”
Sanji shakes his head, scowling slightly before saying “Mosshead came and told me you wanted something to eat. Said I should just bring it right to you.”
You're surprised, mostly because you and Zoro haven't been speaking since your argument the other day.
“I…see…”
The blond knows of your fight, you'd gone to him shortly after and maybe you cried a little while telling him everything, but Sanji's of the belief you two must've made up if Zoro came and asked him to bring you something.
“Guess you guys made up then.”
“No…” this time you shake your head, accepting the small plate of food from Sanji with a slight smile, “We haven't…but this was sweet of him.”
Sanji was surprised at that, but now, he's more annoyed than anything. While you talk and laugh with Nami and Robin, Zoro stays where you left him, every now and then, Sanji catches him watching you. He's probably drunk, that's the only reason Sanji can think of to explain the look Zoro has on his face. It's something soft and almost faraway, like he's thinking too much about something. It only stops when you look over and smile at him, like you had back in Cocoyashi Village, making Zoro look away quickly and down the last of his drink.
There's something there, Sanji knows there is.
He's just not sure what it is yet.
+!+
Robin fully believes she knows what it is between you and Zoro, after watching you two the next day. You'd gone with her to search for the city of gold, Zoro not thinking that was a smart idea but you convinced him you'd be fine and he relented. He didn't want to have another argument leading into a silent treatment event happen. Seeing you without Zoro around, you seemed extremely interested in whatever history Robin told you. You chose to tell Robin about your situation with your family, explaining up to your meeting Zoro and leaving off your current marriage to him. You'd tell her one day, maybe once you'd come to know her more and trust her fully. Robin, though, knows there's something missing from your story. She can see it in your eyes, but she can't see exactly what it is.
What she does see happens when Eneru is nearly about to electrocute the five of you standing before him, Nami hiding behind a bit of debris. Once again Zoro has placed you behind him, and Robin can hear him quietly telling you to go to Nami, which you deny.
“I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to help you.”
Zoro's trying so hard to get you to safety that he nearly misses Eneru targeting Robin, only really noticing when you'd pushed away from him and ran to her, only to be hit with Eneru's attack after you'd shoved her out of the way.
“[Y/N]!!”
Robin's by your side and making sure you're still breathing, relief washing over her when she sees you've just been knocked out. She's more surprised at your actions and how Zoro's sending the worst glare she's ever seen towards Eneru, placing himself between the three of you.
“Don't you dare touch her again.”
“She's likely dead now so that won't be a problem.”
Eneru’s comment nearly pushes Zoro over the edge before Robin calls him.
“Swordsman, calm down! She's still breathing!”
“Doesn't matter! He shouldn't…she shouldn't have…”
Watching Zoro fight for his words and grip his swords tighter, it makes Robin realize she just might be right.
She believes it more so when you all have defeated Eneru, and are recuperating afterwards during a celebration with the Skypieans and Shandorians. Zoro had stayed by your side most of the time, constantly checking to make sure you were alright despite his injuries being worse. You barely seemed to notice, but Robin definitely did. Eventually she sees the same thing Sanji had the night before. You'd gone off with Nami once again, but also Luffy, Chopper, and Aisa this time, the five of you playing some game the little Shandorian girl had come up with, and Robin sees Zoro watching you all, but mostly you. She sees his eyes soften just a bit, the slightest smile on his face while he watches you laugh, especially when Luffy tosses Aisa to you and you catch her, making her squeal in laughter as well. This was the most peaceful she'd seen Zoro yet, and it was all because of you it seems.
How sweet.
You two are the last to wake the next morning, before your abrupt departure, and Robin is sure her hunch is right seeing you snuggled up close to Zoro with one of his arms around you before Sanji kicks Zoro to wake him up. Of course this causes an argument as soon as Zoro is up and in Sanji's face, you barely awake and rubbing your eyes to figure out what's happening.
“What the hell, I was sleeping.”
“You and the swordsman were,” Robin starts to smile while your eyes widen and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, “but we need to get going soon.”
“R-Right… did um… anyone–”
“Yeah you were really cozy with Zoro all night.” Nami grins and you have to hide your face in your hands, Zoro and Sanji still shouting at each other while Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper are gathering their things like it's a game.
Once you all do take off, as you're running to leave, you nearly trip over the ground to the point Zoro grabs you like the sack of gold everyone has and throws you over his shoulder.
“Wait, Zoro!! Put me down!!” You pound on his back a bit before he adjusts you over his shoulder better.
“Not if you're gonna trip like that!”
You don't even bother to fight him and just hang there the rest of the way to Merry, Zoro finally putting you down once you all get there, Robin hears the quietest apology from him while you shake your head and move to help get everything ready to go.
They're very interesting, those two…maybe he does actually like her.
+!+
Landing back in the sea did not go as planned for you. Your air filled octopus balloon friend let you down easily for the most part, until he suddenly ran out of air and the Merry was being quickly dropped into the water. You grabbed as tightly to the railing as you could while everyone else did the same, or grabbed each other in the case of Luffy, Usopp and Chopper, and Sanji not at all complaining as Nami latched onto him. The splash down flooded the deck with water, but once it drained enough, Merry settled and you were back as close to solid ground as possible.
“Everyone good?!” Luffy shouts a bit, Usopp and Chopper still holding onto him while most everyone states they're fine. He furrows his brow when he doesn't hear your voice or see you. “Where's [Y/N]?”
“Did she get swept out when the water drained?!” Nami feels panic seep into her bones while she looks for you in the water.
The second Nami's question reaches him, Zoro is in the water on the side of the ship you'd been on, making what felt like the millionth rescue from water he'd done in his life, most of them being for you due to your inability to swim. The first time it happened you'd been pushed in by one of your bounty targets before Zoro struck them down, quick enough that he was able to reach in and pull you out by your shirt collar like a cat by the scruff of its neck while you flailed about. You didn't eat a Devil Fruit, your parents simply never taught you to swim. Your brother attempted to, but only for so long before your parents heard and barred you from doing so. A lady didn't need to know how to swim, your mother tried to reason with you.
Zoro's able to reach you in time before you get too far down in the sea, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you upwards, surfacing not even a minute after he'd jumped in, making you gasp for air and cling tightly to him, almost suffocating your constant savior while you spit up water from your lungs.
“Zoro's got [Y/N]!! Let the ladder down!”
You hated this, hated needing to be saved anytime you ended up in the water. It's become so much that you aren't sure if you really are crying while you grip onto Zoro, or if it's just water dripping down your face, despite how hard you're biting your lip and tightening your hold on him. It's not like you had a good excuse, not like those who had eaten Devil Fruits.
Zoro puts an arm around your shoulders and stops for just a second once he gets the both of you to the ladder before starting to climb up.
“Hey,” you almost miss him speaking to you, even once he starts trying to soothe you by rubbing your back, “I've got you. You're all right.”
He's quiet while he speaks to you, whispering reassurances that all is well, you're okay, he's not going to let you go until you're on the deck again. You're alive, he's saved you again, kept you from drowning like he has Chopper and Luffy in the past. Like he always has.
Sometimes it feels like all you do is take and take and take from Zoro, from all of them. You wonder sometimes if your parents were right, when they said you were nothing more than a greedy child still, always taking but never giving back. Despite the fact you do your fair share on the ship, in battles, it feels like you shouldn't be here.
Once you're back on the deck, you still don't let go of Zoro, even when he tells you to at least loosen your grip before you choke him to death. You do, at the very least, release your grip on his shoulders and instead hide your face in his shirt, trying to keep your worried crewmates from realizing you are crying after all. Zoro simply holds your head in place, even with Luffy and Usopp trying to check you over while Chopper runs to get his bag and help you. Sanji is quickly throwing his suit jacket around you and trying to get Luffy and Usopp away so they don't cause you more distress, while Robin suggests bringing you to your bed, and Nami's run off to your room to get dry, warm clothes for you. Despite the slight distrust he still feels for Robin, Zoro nods at her suggestion, bringing Sanji's jacket around you a bit more before lifting you up in his arms, knowing you weren't letting him go anytime soon. You don't let go, not even for a second, until you're in your room and Zoro has laid you on your bed, telling you to wait for Chopper to get there while he tries to leave and change into dry clothes himself. He's stopped only by you grabbing his wrist, wanting him to stay, before Zoro promises he'll come right back. You only let go after that, giving a slight nod when he turns to leave you to change clothes yourself.
“Zoro?”
He's almost out of the room before you stop him, making him look over his shoulder to you.
“Thank you…again.”
He shakes his head, telling you not to mention it.
“I'll always save you if you need it, wife.”
+!+
You're struck with a nasty fever and congested cough the next day, blaming it on the unexpected swim you'd taken and the slightly colder area you were in. Chopper's given you all the medicine you can take for now, to try and bring your fever down, the rest was up to your own body to fight it off. Your crewmates were kind enough to take turns watching you, as you all had done when Nami was ill before you brought Chopper on board. She and Zoro are the ones to spend the most time watching you; Luffy tries to cheer you up with jokes, Usopp tells you more of his tall tales, Robin has taken to reading to you from a book she'd let you borrow, Sanji is mostly quiet so you can sleep, and Chopper is in and out checking on you and seeing if your fever has reduced any. Nami is almost as quiet as Sanji, working on a map while you rest.
Then Zoro.
He continues to reassure you that everything is OK, not constantly while he's there but he can tell, when you trail off in your sentences and look away from him, that you feel bad about something. He's not sure what, but he tells you everything is alright, you're alive and you made it out of a fight against a false god and a near drowning.
“‘M sorry you have to watch me…instead of doing your training.”
If he'd been any closer to sleep, Zoro would've missed what you said entirely. Luckily for you, he's awake enough to raise an eyebrow and shake his head.
“Don't worry about it. It's what crewmates do.”
It's what a husband does too…
“I feel like all I do is take from you…”
You don't look at him, finding your ceiling more interesting as you look over the wood pattern to avoid his eyes. You know he'll try to reassure you again, Zoro was good at that, despite his indifference to your pretend marriage. He'd never made you feel like you were a burden or less than, even if you really did mostly take and rarely give in return.
Zoro's not even sure why he always tries to make you realize things are okay, that you haven't done anything wrong. He knows about your parents acting like you should be seen and not heard, such a crappy thing to do to your own child in his opinion. Your parents were well off, they’d give to you and your brother constantly, then make you feel like you were selfish for not returning the “favor” by marrying who they chose for you. They really seemed to embody the “not every parent deserves a child” belief.
Thank God you had someone who cared for you though.
Before even saying a word in response, Zoro quietly takes hold of your free hand, letting you lace your fingers with his and making you look him in the eye again.
“Take all you want, I'll give you what I can. You can return it another time, all right?”
You want to cry, as Zoro strokes your hand with his thumb, and you nod a bit, swallowing down the tears before they can start. The things he does to you, even after telling you he isn’t here for romance. The way he acts, the way he treats you, it really makes you want to believe he’s lying to himself, lying to you to keep up his image. It gives you the slightest bit of hope that things could change one day.
“O-okay…”
We're not a couple…I don't know why you put up with me…
Once your fever is past, you're back to your normal routine of helping out wherever possible on the ship, spending your free time in the kitchen with Sanji, helping Nami with a map, or staying near Zoro while he goes back to training. He doesn't mind if you quietly sit near him, whatever book you've borrowed from Robin in your lap. It feels almost domestic to him, and Zoro has to brush that thought away quickly, lest he start fantasizing about keeping you as his wife. He stops any random thoughts of you two sharing a bed permanently, of taking you out somewhere on the next island for a date, or convincing you to stay up with him during his night watch, just to talk about your relationship and future. No, those thoughts can't be entertained, not now at least, he can't be distracted by such frivolous feelings like wanting to hold your hand all of sudden, or expecting a good morning hug or whatever. Romance isn't in his plans, it's not on his radar. You being his wife isn't supposed to be permanent.
Still though, a thought lingers despite his pushing the others out, when Zoro catches you dozing off in the corner, still fatigued from your body fighting off that fever.
Would it really be so bad to stay married to her?
He's not sure, even as he sets his weight back in place, wiping away any sweat he can and putting on a shirt before settling himself next to you, gently leaning you against him as you sleep. You stir a bit but he quickly quiets you.
“Just me. Go back to sleep.”
“Mm…’kay…”
Despite the scent of steel and sweat, you snuggle closer to Zoro, him wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you still. He lays his head on top of yours, closing his eyes and letting those thoughts come back, not stopping a single one this time.
Thoughts of a possible future where you two stay married and act like it, where you treat each other as husband and wife, where you've both reached your goals, where you're settled down somewhere safe enough to have a child or two perhaps.
Thoughts Zoro never once imagined entertaining, but now they take over his dreams to the point he's started changing his mind.
Maybe not so bad.
208 notes · View notes
byunejoo · 1 year
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four seventeen p.m 𐦍
pairing asakura jo x fem reader
content est relationship, virgin!jo, inexperienced boyf!jo, big dick!jo, he’s kinda massive, oral (m rec), handjobs, fingering (f rec), finger sucking, kind of dom!reader but not really, virginity loss, protected and mentioned unprotected sex, condom breaking, he’s embarrassed, he lowkey has a praise kink, potential size kink, mentioned pulling out (but only barely)
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word count 3.8k
notes not a request! (where are the jo requests </3) lol i told myself when i was writing this that it wouldn’t be long bc i wasn’t attracted to jo like that…..brain said “u wanna bet dani?” also this is not proofread and the ending was rushed so don’t mind any mistakes please
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To say that Jo was nervous would be a major understatement.
You’d been dating Jo for a few months now and it was nothing short of wonderful. It seemed that the two of you operated on the same wavelength; you both shared the same hobbies, opinions, interests, and even your differences didn’t clash, but instead balanced each other out. It almost felt like you were made for one another.
On the other hand, though, he felt very nervous for the next step in your relationship. So far, all you have done was minimal affection—a kiss here and there, hugging and some slightly-stiff cuddling. But he’d noticed lately how much more clingy you were, how your touches lingered, kisses were longer, and your eyes wandered. He wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were thinking about.
But the issue comes when it actually gets down to it.
It’s not that Jo is a virgin by choice. Well—his own choice. There were times where he brushed off his nerves with others he was interested in, but once they had gotten his pants down, all plans fell through. In short, Jo’s dick is big. Much bigger than most people know how to handle. And instead of making him cocky and confident about his size, it did the complete opposite. He felt almost ashamed.
So, when you took initiative one afternoon, kissing him a little harder and longer than you usually do, he got nervous. He tried to keep up with kissing you back, but all he could focus on was your hand that dropped past his shoulder, sneaking further and further down his front. When he felt your fingertips brush past his belly button, he gasped and pulled back from the kiss. You, shocked from the abrupt action, pulled your hand away quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. Have you done something wrong? Did you make him uncomfortable?
“I’m sorry—,” you both started. The two of you gestured to one another to continue, awkwardly laughing.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” You shared a laugh about speaking again at the same time, but a blanket of seriousness covered the two of you after that. It was quiet and a little awkward. Neither of you wanted to be the one to break the silence after that. You watched as Jo avoided your gaze and fidgeted with his fingers. Those fingers that you often find yourself staring at as of late. Just thinking, wondering, imagining how they would feel—. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous to…do anything.”
You regained your focus, letting your eyes snap back up to look at his face. His cheeks were tinted a slightly pink shade, his ears red, and although he was trying to look at you, he couldn’t stop his shifty eyes. “We don’t have to do anything, JoJo, that’s okay.”
“I want to!” If you hadn’t been staring at him so intently, you would’ve been startled by his sudden burst. “Sorry…. I-I want…to do stuff. I’m just nervous.”
Reaching a comforting hand out, you patted him on the shoulder. “Why’s that, babe? What makes you so nervous?”
Jo finally made eye contact with you. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your gaze yet again. He’s not sure if he could tell you while you’re looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to see the look of disappointment when he tells you “I’m a virgin.”
You snort a little, breathing out a sigh of relief. Scooting closer to him, you pressed right up against him to lean your head on his shoulder. “Thank god. I thought it was something I had done. You know I don’t care if you’re a virgin or not. We can do whatever you want, and not do whatever you don’t.”
He couldn’t deny how he hardened in his pants, thinking about finally having that moment, and with you of all people, being someone he cares about deeply. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the bulge in his pants, but kept your eyes trained on his face as you reached for it. You were searching for any sign of hesitation, any sign he wants you to stop. But there wasn’t one.
And when you finally placed your hand over it, Jo felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but that didn’t matter. In just a matter of time, with the way your hand was now working over his pants, he would be.
“Is this okay?” You could feel the way his thighs tense beside your hand. He was still avoiding your gaze, but you could see that he was looking at where you touch him. He nods. “I want to hear you say it.”
“It-It’s o-kay.” His voice was a little shaky, but it gave you all the confirmation you needed.
You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw. Adding a little more pressure, you cupped your hand more firmly around him, squeezing occasionally. His cock hardened, becoming more solid in your grasp. He gasped, taking shallow breaths as you kissed along his jaw and neck while you moved your hand. “Can I take your pants off?”
Your fingers slipped under his waistband when he said yes, hooking around his pants and underwear, pulling them both down to his thigh. His—now fully hard—cock sprung up, hitting against his stomach with a soft thud. Heat rushed from his chest all the way up to his forehead, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He groaned, reaching for his half-discarded pants. But you pushed his hands away and pinned his wrists to his side. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move. Were you going to laugh at him? Humiliate him and tell him he was too big to do anything with, like everyone else?
No, you didn’t do any of that. “Is this what you were worried about, puppy?” He almost sighed at the petname. “Were you worried that your big dick would scare me away?” He nodded. You couldn’t help but let out another laugh. Not because you were laughing at him, nor making fun of him, but you can’t believe that all this time it was only because of something he has no control over.
“Please don’t laugh at me.”
You coo. “I’m not laughing at you. I think it’s cute that you were worried about this. But I promise it doesn’t scare me. Actually, it’s kind of arousing.” As you spoke, you smoothed over the skin of his thighs, hoping to make him less tense. “I’ll only do what you allow me to do. Can I touch you?”
“Yes. I want you to touch me, please.”
As you move to straddle his legs, Jo feels the bed shift under the movement of your knees, much like the way his stomach turns and dips at the realization that it’s happening. You are about to touch him, you’re going to make him cum, being the first person other than himself to do so. Your steady hands reach out, and after what feels like centuries, you finally wrap them around his cock. Two of your hands don’t even cover him completely from base to the tip. You give him a few experimental, dry pumps first before removing one hand. Spitting into the palm of it, you then used it to lubricate the glide of your hands on his length.
It felt much different having your hands on him versus his own. Your touch, although firm, was a lot softer. Gentler. You moved your hands a lot more slowly, familiarizing yourself with the heavy feeling of him in your hands. Feeling every inch of him, every little vein, and embedding that feeling into your mind. Your thumb swipes over his tip, dragging little beads of precum down, making every tug and twist of your hands on his cock even wetter and more slick. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and let out low moans. He could barely register when you asked if you could use your mouth, which he agreed to, of course.
The contact from your tongue had his eyes shooting open, feeling like all the air was knocked out of his lungs. He managed to let his eyes wander down, and he was met by the sight of you already looking at him, kitten licking over his tip while stroking him. Then, while he kept eye contact with you, you wrapped your lips around him. Only the tip at first. Gently suckling, hollowing your cheeks, then pulling off. After a few moments, you began to take more of him into your mouth. Just a couple of inches, little by little, until you felt you couldn’t take any more. You used one hand to follow behind your mouth so not one inch of his cock went untouched as you moved your head, bobbing up and down, back and forth. Jo could only grip the sheets beside his legs tightly, moaning and sighing. It was a feeling he’d never felt before. One that he could only think about in his dirty fantasies. The idea of someone being brave enough to pleasure him and his big dick was something he thought was too far-fetched, something he thought he’d never experience in his entire life. But here you are, sucking him off and giving him pleasure he could only dream of.
Before he realizes it, a tight feeling spreads from his flexed abdomen down to his toes, where he curls them while trying to fend off his pending orgasm. He knows he can’t hold off much longer, but he selfishly wants to have your mouth around him as long as he can have it. “Ah, I-I’m gonna c-um…” His words were broken from the sounds he’d been making previously. You didn’t stop nor slow down, and instead attempted to take just a little more between your lips. One hand moved to shuffle his shirt out of the way, the other holding his length steady as you moved your focus to rolling your tongue over and suckling what you have stuffed in your mouth. His thighs tensed and shook lightly as you pushed him right over the edge, humming around him. Your tongue laps up every drop he spills, causing broken moans to rumble from his chest straight to your core. You’d pretty much tuned out your own reactions, focusing on pleasuring him for the first time, but you can’t deny how badly it had affected you.
Once you’d swallowed every drop you could, and he was twitching from overstimulation, you climbed off of Jo’s legs and sat by his side. “Was that okay?” You pressed your thighs together looking at him. His chest was heaving up and down with the deep breaths he was taking to regulate his breathing, his hair was slightly tousled from your previous kiss, and the slight sheen of sweat on his flushed cheeks looked all too good to you. Not to mention the faintest of red marks on his neck from where you’d attached your lips earlier and the way his eyes are squeezed shut. He nodded, not confident in his voice yet. Yes, it was good, he wanted to tell you. Better than I could’ve imagined.
A heavy, but comfortable, silence fell upon the both of you as you allowed Jo to catch his breath. However, you couldn't deny that his labored breathing next to you, and the desire bubbling up and finally coming to a head once you’d finally seen what you’d been longing for didn’t make you want more. But you promised, you’d only do what Jo wanted. You’d go at his pace. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though, would it?
“Do you want to go…further?” Yet again, his breath caught in his throat at your bold question. “It’s okay if not.”
He nods, seemingly the only reaction he can manage at this point. And with a few more questions, answered with a shake or a nod of his head, you had switched positions. Now you were laying in the spot he previously had been, knees bent and pressed together as Jo sits on his heels, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted him to do. He’d never gotten this far with anyone else, either.
“Take off my shorts. Just the shorts.” You stared at him, watching him nervously lick his lips. His plump lips that you can’t wait to feel all over you—but that’s for next time. This time, you wanted the focus to be less about you, despite how his full attention was on you now. This was his first time, and you want the experience to be all about him. But you aren’t sure if you could take him without some sort of preparation first. So you watch as his trembling fingers hook around the waistband of your flimsy shorts, gently tugging them off of your skin. You lift your hips so he could pull them off easier. Then, you moved your feet once the fabric pooled around your ankles, watching as he dropped them to the side. He struggled to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, totally unsure of where he’s allowed to look. “Look at me, babe. I want you to take my panties off, and I want you to see how wet I am for you.”
Jo feels like he’s going to explode with the words you’re saying. You’re wet? For him? These words are so simple yet so new and vulgar to him, but he thinks he likes them. He wants to hear more. So he hooks his fingers around the fabric of your underwear, much like he had done with your shorts before, only this time more confidently. However, he wasn’t ready for the sight in front of him when he’d pulled them off. Naturally, his eyes followed an imaginary line from your ankles all the way down your legs, where he saw what he thinks is one of his new favorite sights. You’d spread your thighs as he slipped your panties off of your legs, and he had a clear view of your gorgeous pussy. It was so pretty, and you hadn’t lied when you said you were wet. He couldn’t help but admire how some of your arousal had leaked into the seat of your underwear, spreading across your folds that glisten now that he’d removed the clothing.
“Give me your hand.” You reached out for him, and without much thought, he placed his large hand in your own. One by one, you curled his fingers down until he had just his pointer finger standing. Then, you guided his hand between your legs. You helped him slide his finger through your slick arousal, wetting his finger and dragging it back up to your clit. “You feel that? All for you.” After that, you let go of his wrist and let him feel for himself.
He timidly ran his finger through your slit like you’d done, then stopped at your entrance. His fingertip breached the opening, being met with little resistance. Inch by inch, little by little, he pushes his finger into you slowly. Pulling it out, pushing back in, he sets an inexperienced, slow pace. Jo was fascinated with watching his finger disappear inside you. “More. Another one, please.” You breathed out. He hadn’t even noticed any of the sounds you were making before. But he obliged and added a second finger beside his first one. The feeling was new to him, having you squeeze around his fingers each time he thrust them in. And every moan and shaky breath you let out was something he could get used to. “Oh, Jo, your fingers are so good. Doing so well.” Every praise sent a shock through his body, and in turn caused him to fuck his fingers into you just a little faster. Twisting his wrist, curling his fingertips—anything to get you to make those noises again.
Suddenly, your hand shoots down to grasp at his wrist. He freezes in shock, halting all movement. “Mm, don’t stop, please. Almost there.” With barely enough time to register the words that slipped past your lips, Jo watches as you begin to grind yourself on his fingers. Whines, whimpers, gasps, all noises floating through the air make him twitch, already getting hard again. You’re fully fucking yourself on his fingers now, taking charge and pushing yourself closer to orgasm. And when your thighs start to tremble and your hips jerk, Jo finally snaps out of his trance and begins to move his fingers. He curls them and drags them against your walls, feeling you clench down on them. His thumb brushes against the spot you showed him earlier, your clit, and starts rubbing gentle circles on it. Your hips jerked, stomach caving in with the pleasure. A few swears mixed with broken moans ripped through your throat at the added sensation, riding out your high until you lightly twitched with overwhelming sensitivity.
He pulled his fingers out of you, covered and soaked by your slick release. Staring, he’s a little uncertain of what to do now; does he wipe them off? What is he supposed to do now that they’re sticky and covered in you? Luckily, he didn’t have to think much before you sat up on weak arms to take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swipes up, down, and between his two fingers, licking him clean of any trace of arousal left behind. His mouth drops open in shock watching you, eyes following your every move closely. You hum around his fingers and pull off with a lewd pop sound. He couldn’t deny that he was hard again, mind racing with thoughts as you stare at him with eyes clouded by lust.
“Can-Can we…keep going?” He’s the one to ask this time. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shakiness in his voice, but you confidently nodded.
You rolled over to your side, stretching to reach your bedside table and pulling open the drawer on it. Reaching in, you fished around before pulling your hand back out with a shiny foil packet. “Have you ever put a condom on before?” He shook his head no and you beckoned him closer. Sitting up, you watch as he awkwardly shuffles his way to you, hard cock pathetically bobbing with each movement. “Watch me do it.”
With a firm grip, you held the base of his cock steady. You pinched the very end of the condom with one hand, and slowly started to roll it down his length with the other. It was a bit hard to do, but you managed to completely unroll it. The entire time, Jo’s eyes were trained on the work your hands were doing, trying to etch it into his memory for later use.
“It’s a bit tight.” He almost chokes on air at your words. “The condom, I mean. Does it feel alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jo looks at where you’re staring, and he sees the condom stretched tightly around his girth. He shakes his head no again, and you lay back, allowing him to continue.
He shuffles between your spread legs and tries to line himself up. When you realize that he’s just a little bit too shaky, you grab his wrist. “Jo. Are you sure you want to do this? You seem really nervous.”
He nods. You shake your head, urging him to use his words. “I’m…okay. I want to…do this. Please.”
“Okay. Okay. Take your time, babe.” You leaned back, relaxed. “There’s no rush.”
To Jo, it felt like an eternity before he was able to calm down enough to do anything. He was nervous, and excited. It was finally happening; he’d finally lose his virginity if he could just—. He presses his tip into you. The stretch was a lot, almost too much, but your slick wetness and the extra lubrication on the condom made the glide easier. Coupled with the fact that Jo was taking his time — he was pressing into you so slowly that if you couldn’t feel how he was stretching you out, you wouldn’t believe he was moving at all.
Jo braced himself on his hands beside your body. He slowly pushed his length into you until you couldn’t take any more. The two of you let out shaky breaths in unison, adjusting to the feeling. Of you being so full and of him being squeezed so tightly.
It was unlike any time he touched himself. For a while, he’d wrap his large fist around his equally long and thick cock, dreaming about this moment. He knew it would feel different. He just didn’t know it would feel this different. Having your gummy walls stretched and squeezing so tightly around him had his head spinning, and before he knew it, he was absentmindedly rutting his hips into you, trying to pathetically bury himself deeper inside you.
You gasped, grasping his shoulders, lightly digging your fingernails in. “Oh, Jo.” Small moans floated through the room. “You’re doing so good.”
He sits up on his knees to better drive his hips into yours, slightly jolting your body with every thrust. He, too, was letting out small noises of pleasure, trying to focus on what he was doing so it was pleasurable for both of you. But all of a sudden, he stops.
It took everything in you to not whine. Instead, you kept your composure. Maybe he didn’t want to continue anymore? This is a lot to take in, going from completely inexperienced to having your first everything in one night. You glided your hands down from his shoulders to his bicep, all the way down to his wrists to squeeze comfortingly. “Are you okay, Jo?”
He nods, shakes his head, then nods again. “I-Um. I’m…fine. It’s just,” you gently encourage him to speak. “I think…I think it broke.”
“The condom?” He nods. “Pull out. Pull out and let me see.” It took some urging, but he did eventually, hesitantly, pull out. And he was right — the condom had split and now had to be discarded. Jo had a pout on his face as he watched you gently pull off the ripped condom and toss it aside. He was fully prepared for you to tell him you can’t continue, and he accepted that. But you didn’t.
He lets out a confused noise. “We can keep going if you want.” You repeat. “Just let me know when you’re going to finish so you can pull out, okay?”
The feeling of being inside you without that extra barrier is so mind numbing that he almost doesn’t pull out. Almost.
283 notes · View notes
oceansblvds · 3 months
Text
void in blue (gojo satoru) — chapter one
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pairing ; satoru gojo x reader (suguru's sister)
words ; 2.7k
summary ; satoru gojo comes to your door after weeks of silence, with a proposition that will change your lives forever.
warning(s) ; mentions of sex, swearing, gojo clan being gojo clan, mentions of breeding, overall a messy argument, mentions of death
masterlist can be found here !
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Gojo Satoru was in bed with another woman when he got the call that he was dreading for most of his life. 
He always knew that the clan would try to pull something like this. They were all meddling in his business whether he wanted them to or not. That’s what he got for being born the strongest in all of the world, with Six Eyes and Limitless all packed into a 6 '3 package with a nice little bow on it, a gift to a clan who spent too much time worrying about the future and what it could hold. From the moment that he was old enough to comprehend the idea of marriage, he knew that it wasn’t going to be his choice. When it happened and who it would be with were out of the question. In some ways, he thought that perhaps this whole mess over the last year and a half would’ve stalled them a bit. It was the least that they could do for what happened, the turmoil being both physical and emotional for so many parties involved. 
He should’ve known that they wouldn’t be that generous. 
Typically, he didn’t like to stay the night for his hookups. It was better to fuck and be out the door within the next ten minutes so that he didn’t have to answer constant questions about whether or not he would come back. He found himself somewhat in a loop, where he would go out during the nights that he couldn’t sleep for fear of plaguing nightmares, find someone to spend his company with, and then leave before the sun came up the next morning. No matter how disheartening the loop was to the others involved, he kept telling himself that it was for the better this way. It was better to not get close to anyone again, for fear that something like Geto would happen again. In some other timeline, perhaps things would be different. His best friend would still be here and they would be teaching the next generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers together. But things weren’t different. Suguru was dead. Satoru was broken. End of story.
“Where are you going?” The woman uttered, her bright eyes finding his own under the dim light of the lamp she had turned on when he began to rustle out of bed. “You don’t want to stay for round three?” 
“I’ll call you.” 
He wouldn’t. 
You couldn’t tell if Satoru was trying to be an asshole or if this was something that your rose colored glasses had hid from you for all the years that you considered him your friend. He barely reached your eye when he told you that he had something to talk to you about, looking at you, though more like looking through you. There was a time that you would’ve gone to the ends of the Earth to understand what his facial expressions meant, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you allowed him to push past you into your apartment.  
The silence between the two of you wasn’t even deafening, it was just awkward. Satoru made his way to the island counter, pulling back the stool and sitting on it so that he was eye level with you. He patted to the seat next to him, something that he would always do to you to get you to do what he wanted for all those years before. You refused, instead coming to the opposite side and leaning against the cool granite. He had his sunglasses on, cool blue toned eyes shining against them, right into the core of your very being. Like he was trying to rip you apart with his gaze, ripping through your ribcage and bearing your organs on display for him so that he could see the hidden depths of your emotions. You didn’t allow him to see anything, a stoic look on your face as you raised an eyebrow, pushing silently for him to begin. You didn’t want him to be here any longer than he needed to be. It seemed he was in the same boat, he looked like he wanted to run off as soon as he bore whatever news he had in store. 
“Where’d the pictures go?” Satoru asked, motioning towards the empty walls. You knew exactly what he was talking about, and yet you turned your head to look at them anyway. When you looked back at Satoru, he was glaring at you. 
You shrugged. “Seemed fitting.” 
“Do you plan on just erasing his memory all together? Even the good parts?” 
You could’ve hit him for that. 
You had never been a particularly violent person, always preferring talking something out rather than resorting to punches and kicks. It seemed like that part of you had been taken and stored away somewhere, tucked between the junction of your heart and lungs, slowly being squeezed to death every second your pulse beat. Satoru always liked getting under your skin, something that came with the title of being your brother's best friend. But to do it now? It was like he was trying to make you mad. 
“You tell me, you’re the one that killed him.” 
“Don’t act like you didn’t have any part of that, like I wasn’t doing what was best for everyone.” 
You scoffed. “Oh yes, the great Satoru Gojo. Man of the people.” 
A silence fell, to where you could only glare at him and he could pretend to be hurt. It was clear that he wasn’t able to fool you, to charm you like the rest of his friends into thinking that any of this was okay. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t ever be okay. You wished to live in a world where you didn’t have to think about Satoru, where you could forget all about him and what happened to your brother, to your family. 
However, in some sick way, you could only hope to cling onto him. Whether that be with hatred or disgust or anything in between. He was the only one who could even begin to understand what you were going through, and as much as you hated to admit it, you would never be rid of Satoru Gojo. 
“Why are you here, Satoru? It’s the middle of the night,” You asked. You turned around and turned on the electric stove, putting the water filled kettle on like it was muscle memory. When a friend came over, you always made tea for them. It turns out that the body remembers those types of things even if your mind doesn’t. You reached for the glass container that held different types of tea bags, from herbal to caffeinated, instinctively grabbing the sweetest one for him. Some things never did change.
“There’s something that I need to talk to you about.” 
“You already said that,” You snapped. “Do you plan on dragging this out or would you like to tell me what is so important that you couldn’t wait until morn—” 
“The clan wants us to marry.” 
Your movements stalled, your hand hovering over the handle of the kettle as it started to squeak with the pressure of the steam coming out of the spout. Instead of relieving it and allowing for it to cool off, you stood there, staring at it, as the kettle started to get louder and louder. If Satoru was talking, you couldn’t hear it, the shrieking filling up the walls of the apartment until you decided to relieve it, pushing it away and burning yourself in the process. You couldn’t feel it though, numbness seeping ever so slightly into your entire body as you processed the word he spoke over and over again. Marry. 
Satoru continued to speak. “The clan,” a sigh, “my clan, thinks that it’s in everyone's best interest if I marry someone in order to provide for the future. I thought that they were going to choose someone from their own families, to further some type of political agenda, but they want you.” 
You couldn’t believe your ears. You were sure that your family was blacklisted from Jujutsu society after what happened with your brother. You were the only one left, and you were fine with being shunned and whatever came from that, but to be integrated into it in such an . . . intimate way? It sounded almost comical, like he was making it up. For a moment, you thought about the notion that maybe he was making it up. But as you turned around and looked at him, there wasn’t a hint of enjoyment scattered across the part of his face that you could say. In fact, this was probably the most distressed that you had ever seen him. 
“You can’t expect me to accept this,” You said. “This doesn’t even make sense, why me? They want us to marry, after everything that happened?” 
Satoru nodded, as if it was black and white, like this was the easiest thing in the world to talk about. It made you want to rip out your hair, that he was able to act so emotionless about something like this. Your future. His future. He acted like it was something that could be controlled by people who had no idea what the fuck was going on, people who only saw your lives as something to be meddled in and played with like you were toy dolls. “They believe that it’s the only way to secure the future of Jujutsu society. Your bloodline is powerful, whether you want to admit it or not. They think our union could produce the strongest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” 
You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe a word he was saying. “So, this is about breeding a powerful sorcerer? Like we’re some kind of livestock? Do they actually think that this will work? That I would agree to this with no questions asked?” 
“It’s more than that,” Satoru said, his voice strained. “The recent rise in cursed spirits has everyone on edge. The clan elders believe that combining our strengths is the only way to ensure our survival. It’s not just politics; it’s the world’s survival. It’s what’s best for everyone.” 
“I’m supposed to marry you to save the world? Do they really think that a forced marriage will do that?” You scoffed, the bitterness in your tone ever so clear. “What’s best for everyone,” You repeated, disbelief lacing each syllable of your words. “And what about what’s best for us? For me? My brother is dead because of you, there’s no mending that.” 
Satoru leaned against the counter, his hand reaching for your own, which you pulled away before he could touch, going back to making the tea so that you had something to do instead of staying idle and listening to this . . . this bullshit. “They think it’s our best shot,” He replied. “They’re desperate, and desperate people do desperate things.” 
With the weight of his words and the reality of the situation pressing down on you both, you poured the boiling water into two cups, the motions automatic and detached. “You’re actually considering this,” You spoke, more a statement than a question. You felt a wave of anger rising, mixed with sadness and confusion. None of this made sense to you, really. There seemed to be a better option, but when you thought about it, you couldn’t come to any conclusions. You felt as dumb as the rest of the clan was.  “I can’t believe you’d go along with this bullshit.” 
“I don’t want to force you into anything,” Satoru said, his usual arrogance gone, laced with something you couldn’t quite put your fingers on. “But if we don’t do this, the consequences could be disastrous, more people could get hurt. We could lose everything.” 
“And you think marrying me will prevent that?” You shot back, putting the teabag in both of your cups and turning to push the cup towards him on the table. You then crossed your arms over your chest. “Do you really believe that, or is this just another way for your clan to control us? To control you?” 
“This isn’t about control; it’s about survival.” 
“Satoru, I don’t know if you have noticed, but I don’t necessarily care about my survival,” You spat, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air. You didn’t care if you lived or if you died, you didn’t care what happened to Jujutsu society, especially if the future meant more Satoru’s running around the world. It was all in ruin, and to you, everything could just get worse. Why would you contribute to that? 
Satoru flinched, but he held his ground, as he always did. His expression tightened, his brows furrowing slightly at your words.  “You should care,” He said, his voice low but firm. “Survival isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about everyone who depends on us.” 
You scoffed bitterly, the irony of the situation seeping into your voice. “Everyone who depends on us? Like my brother who depended on you? Look where that got him.” You could almost hear your brother’s laugh through the silence. 
His jaw clenched visibly, the usually composed facade beginning to crack under your words. “I didn’t ask for any of this to happen,” He retorted, a flicker of defensiveness in his tone. “I tried to protect him, tried to get him to see reason, tried to get him —”
“Did you?” You shot back, your voice rising with accusation that was all too familiar these days. “Or were you too busy playing the hero, too blinded by your own arrogance to see the consequences? To see that he was hurting too. That he could’ve been detained.” 
Satoru took a sharp breath, as if your words were a physical blow. “I did what I thought was right,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just like I’m trying to do now.” 
“Right?” You scoffed. “There’s nothing right about any of this.” 
He reached out again, his hand hovering in the air between the two of you as if he wanted to comfort you but knew better than to try. Not if he wanted to have boiling water thrown into his face and cuts from a broken teacup along his pale cheeks. “I wish there was another way,” He said. “We have to figure out a way to navigate this together. Maybe there’s a way we can turn this situation to our advantage.” 
“Advantage?” You echoed incredulously. “There’s no advantage in being shackled to you.” 
“Maybe not now,” He admitted, his gaze almost pleading. You almost felt bad for him. “But if we work together—”
“I won’t be your pawn,” You interrupted, your voice trembling with a raw defiance you had thought you lost the moment your brother died. “Not now, not ever.” There was no world where you would bend to the whims of Satoru Gojo and let him walk all over you. Not him or his clan elders. 
Satoru looked at you with a mix of . . . what? Was it anger? Annoyance? Pity? You were unsure. Perhaps it was unfair of you to be this unruly about it, when he was the bearer of bad news. You knew that this decision wasn’t his deep down, but that didn’t stop you from being angry at him for it. This was the first time that you have seen him in days, since everything that happened, and he was telling you this? He made it seem like you had a choice in the matter. The truth was that you didn’t. “Suguru would want you—” 
“Do not bring him into this,” You said, your stern tone wavering with a mixture of unshed tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “I don’t want you to ever say his name to me. You don’t deserve to.” 
Satoru sighed, a mix of resignation and determination mixed into his expression. “I didn’t expect you to make this easy. But I hope you’ll at least consider what’s at stake.” 
You turned away from him. “I’ll consider it,” you finally said. “But don’t expect me to agree to this without a fight.” 
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” 
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geekgirles · 8 months
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"I would've preferred it if Amalia were our Queen instead."
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"Like many others, sweetie, but you can't say that right now."
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"Where did Amalia go, Mum?"
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"She's gone explore the world, like she usually does."
Okay, but this little piece of dialogue is crucial to understand so many things about the Sadida and their opinion on their royal family.
And we stan that little girl. Yes, baby, I, too, wish Amalia was queen instead. I don't trust Armand and Aurora as far as I can throw them.
It's already been established Armand resents his sister not only because of her wanderlust or the fact that their father seemed to favour her, but because so does their people.
The fact that there are apparently many who support Amalia, the younger princess, over her brother, the Crown Prince, comes to show that for the Sadida actions speak louder than words.
There is no denying that both royal siblings care immensely about their kingdom. Armand was in the front lines when Nox attacked alongside King Oakheart and many of Amalia's best, most mature moments were in relation to her wanting to protect and serve her people. Like when she decided to stand up against Armand and inform their father of Nox's attacks back in season one, or how she was more than willing to forego her chance to marry for love and marry Harebourg instead if that meant her kingdom would survive Ogrest's Chaos in the OVA.
The difference between the two of them, however, especially in the eyes of their people, is their actions or, more accurately, the consequences of said actions.
Armand is the Crown Prince, and he remains in their kingdom carrying out his duties while Amalia went off to explore the world and have fun, away from her duties. At first glance, that should make Armand the better choice in the eyes of the Sadida, except that also means they've probably been far more subjected to his less pleasant moments.
Having to watch your tongue out of fear of severe punishment or even death just because the prince is sensitive over his bad breath is overkill, plain and simple.
Not to mention, every time Amalia left her kingdom, her adventuring evolved into a life-or-death mission to save the world.
With Nox, the fact that she ran away allowed her to gain the intel needed to go back home and warn them of the upcoming attack. Something Armand refused to do anything about until King Oakheart entered the picture and took matters into his own hands, all because he couldn't believe his sister would ever be more than a spoiled brat trying to run away from her responsibilities.
With Quilby, what at first was a simple, humanitarian mission to retrieve his dofus and welcome the Eliatrope children eventually turned into a desperate battle for the survival of their world.
Again, in the OVAs, the entirety of the Sadida kingdom was aware and celebrated Amalia's sense of responsibility and selfless decision to enter an arranged marriage for their sake. I haven't watched beyond the Throne of Ice, so I don't know if the Sadida ever found out Harebourg's true plans for their forest, but if they did, all the more reason to respect Amalia for refusing to put her people in jeopardy.
Finally, people talk. In season 3, it's made apparent that since Aurora entered the picture (at the very least), the royal siblings' relationship has strained practically to the point of no return. And while Amalia isolated herself and mourned her father's deteriorating health, it's very likely the castle guards and servants bore witness to how the prince's treatment of his sister worsened each day. So I wouldn't be surprised if word got out and the rest of the kingdom sympathised with Amalia either.
Now, it is true that while Amalia does have a sense of responsibility and duty to her kingdom and a deep love for her people, despite her royal upbringing, she is not really made for the stifling life of royalty. Hence, her constant wanderlust. In that regard, Armand is indeed the most reliable of the two.
It just so happens that when it comes to personal flaws and his treatment of others he is wholly unreliable. It's his way or the highway. And that is a very terrifying quality for a king to have, to be unable to compromise.
But most importantly, what really sets these two apart in the way their people perceive them is that while Armand is a prince, Amalia is a hero. And she has proven time and time again that she will do everything in her power to assure everyone's safety and well-being.
And that alone speaks volumes of a ruler's true character.
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bunnys-babies · 1 year
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Talk To You, pt. 2
Megumi Fushiguro x gn!reader
wc: 1.2k
pt. 2 / ?
warning(s): mentions of puke, mentions of taxidermy - so if any of that really icks you out tread lightly :)
a/n: it’s been a while, but if anyone recalls pt. 1 of this, it’s just a continuation 🥰 (feel free to read hehe) but it’s not necessarily required! Could be read as a stand alone :)) just a silly and nervous first date 🤍🤍 reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! I hope you enjoy :3 also, I am very behind on JJK, please do not spoil anything in the tags because I do see them! So if this is “canon divergent”, that’s why LMAO
pt. 1
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He’s going to puke. He’s absolutely, 100%, sure of it.
He’s so sweaty that he’s certain he must stink, he hates his outfit, and why is his hair so frizzy? He knew he shouldn’t have listened to Kugisaki and let her “do him up”.
The bus seat vibrates beneath him and emits one of the most brain piercing rattles he thinks he’s ever heard as he impatiently waits for his stop.
Oh god, they aren’t gonna think I’m a loser for taking the bus, are they?
Sighing and picking at the cuticle along his thumb nail, he does his best to focus on keeping track of the colors of the cars passing by. What good would dwelling on your perception of him do when it’s only making him continue to profusely sweat anyways?
It’s been a week since he got your number. Well, since Yuuji got your number for him, sort of.
And over the course of that week, Megumi’s convinced himself he’s done nothing besides behave like a fool.
He’s spelt your name wrong, twice, and then wondered why he even felt the need to address you by name in text. He sent you a list of options for dates, listing location and expected cost, as well as sending them in order of “most to least active”. And then, when you surprisingly agreed and made a choice, he sent you a calendar invite.
Nothing about this even seemed remotely out of the ordinary to him until Kugisaki asked how you both ended up deciding on going through a “local, close up walkthrough” of a taxidermist’s home.
“Huh?” Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open after she spoke, eager, and a little scared, to hear Megumi’s response.
“Well, out of our options, it was the most cost effective and productive choice. Lots of conversation starters. They seemed pretty interested.”
Doubt and embarrassment began to knot his stomach at the lack of response from Kugisaki.
“What? They picked it. So clearly they wanted to go to this thing.”
Still no response.
“Right?”
Crickets.
“Kugisaki.”
Pressing her mouth into a thin line, she stops her relentless fidgeting over Megumi’s hair and clothes and crosses her arms over her chest instead.
“Fushiguro,”, she spoke slowly and softly, “couple questions. One, did you offer this idea? Two, if so, what were the other options?”
Something about the way she spoke only increased his anxiety.
Oh, he messed up.
Unfortunately, after explaining himself, there wasn’t any time left to get some sort of reassurance from her that he hadn’t completely fucked this all up.
And god, why did he have to approach this so… professionally?
He stopped himself from letting out a groan before the brakes squealed at an alarming volume as the bus came to a stop.
Muttering out a nearly silent thanks to the driver, he takes a step out onto the darkened sidewalk. It must have rained earlier.
It takes him about 20 minutes to locate and walk to the house, his shoes covered in a shine from the dew still fresh on the grass.
As he waits, part of him is wishing you just don’t show up. This has just all played out in the worst way, and he’d rather take the embarrassment of being stood up than being around you for an hour, possibly multiple, while you pretend he isn’t a freak and that you aren’t showing up out of anything but pity.
His stomach churns at the sound of a car door shutting, and he’s back to that god forbidden feeling like he’s going to hurl, when he hears a soft “Fushiguro?” being called out to him from his left.
A visibly strained smile is offered to you as Megumi turns to greet you.
God, you knew this sweater was too gaudy.
“How was the drive for yo-“
“Looks like it rain-“
Awkward laughs are exchanged at the sudden silence you both sit in after accidentally interrupting each other.
After, Megumi silently insists you continue to speak with a few hand gestures and nod of his head.
“Yeah, I was just gonna ask how the drive was for you! It rained pretty hard where I was coming from, and I swear my wipers were ready to fly off.”
Damnit.
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t drive.” He turned his body to face the front of the house, hoping his embarrassment was less visible from the side of his face.
“Oh nice idea, I hate driving in the rain. I totally should’ve considered that.” Turning to face the house yourself, you wait for him to take the first steps before walking forward.
A mixture of relief and bashfulness wash over him at your simple response and unexpected, but welcoming, flattery.
Nice idea.
Fighting back the small smile and pride swelling in his chest, he begins to walk forward, doing his best to strike conversation as you make your way to the front door despite the nagging stomach ache he’s gotten.
He’s never been so nervous before.
Kugisaki has no idea what she was talking about, this is going to be simply lovely.
The vomit covering the top of your shoes as you rub the spot between Megumi’s shoulder blades is staring at him. And if it could laugh and point it’d probably be doing that, too.
“You okay?” You speak so soft he almost doesn’t hear you ask.
No, he’s not okay.
He just blew chunks all over both of your shoes (and the eclectic man’s maroon carpet), vomited again at the smell, and then nearly tripped his way down the front steps as he continued to puke into the Taxidermist’s front lawn.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
Maybe it was a little more than just his nerves making him nauseous.
“Y’know, if I knew you were gonna get this freaked out over the ‘Pope Mouse’, I would’ve gone with the bird watching option instead.”
It takes him a minute to realize you’re joking. You’re actually joking with him and trying to salvage whatever this is.
Whether it was out of shock, sympathy at your mediocre attempt of a joke, or the image of that poor dead rat dressed up as the pope, he let out a low chuckle.
He kept his posture leaned over and his head down, waiting to make sure he truly was all done, when you realized your hand was still rubbing gentle circles into his upper back. Gingerly, you lifted your hand and placed it in your pocket, trying not to focus on the vomit on your shoes.
All things considered, you really were having a great time.
He’s strange, definitely a little shy, maybe even abrasive, not the best at conversation, has interesting ideas of fun, and literally threw up on your shoes, but he was such a sweetheart. It helped he was more than nice to look at sure, but his nervousness and slightly off-putting personality did nothing but attract you even more.
You’ve never been on a more eventful date, that’s for sure. And you’ve never met someone who clearly put so much thought into spending time with you, and his anxiety was more than obvious. Did he really like you that much?
Regardless, you thought he at least deserved another chance at a second date, one where you could actually get to know more about him other than the fact he might have a weak stomach.
“If you promise not to puke in my car, and help me clean off our shoes, we can try again. Probably somewhere we can sit and chat instead of stare at poorly done taxidermy.”
Unfortunately, before you could offer up any good ideas, he was back to busying himself with vomiting.
At least he’s really cute.
——————
taglist: @plutowrites @lunarsap @alonezz @softjaegerhours @onismikasa (if you’d like to be removed/added please let me know!)
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sevensoulmates · 6 months
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Buddie Meta 7x04 Part 3 (of 4)
Click here for part 1, part 2 or part 4.
Onto gay scene number four.
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This is ONCE AGAIN a direct parallel to 2x01. Ya know, the gym scene where everyone was like "why is Buck puffing his chest and trying to look hotter and stronger than Eddie"? Tim Minear would have us believe it's because he was threatened by Eddie, but those of us with our third eye open all know the man was attracted to Eddie, and Eddie was attracted right back.
Even down to putting the extra weights on the lift machine, it's almost beat for beat the same Buck trying to get Eddie's attention, only this time they have six years of love and devotion under their belt. This peacocking isn't about trying to prove Buck is better than Eddie, and it's most definitely not about Tommy. Tommy isn't here, neither is he mentioned. The object of Buck's attention is purely Eddie. Buck wants Eddie to look over and notice him without a spotter and come running over to be his partner, and maybe he also wants Eddie to notice that Buck is also strong and capable and sexy. Y'all ever seen those mating rituals where the male tries to prove he's big and strong and interesting so that the female will choose him? Buck is trying to make himself appear sexier than Tommy, and in my opinion, there's no other way to read this scene than that.
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He keeps looking to see if Eddie is noticing him, and when Ravi offers to be Buck's spot he shoos him away. What's also interesting is the framing of the camera. Eddie is positioned in the background between Buck's spread legs and his open arms. I'm not a filmmaker so I don't really know 100% what that means, but I just think it's an interesting choice to have Buck purposefully putting his crotch forward for Eddie to see, and keeping Eddie constantly in view only through Buck's spread arms and legs. Idk, it's givingggmmmgaysex. But what do I know?
Also keep in mind we (and probably Buck too) don't actually know who Eddie is talking to on the phone. We're meant to assume it's Tommy, but it could be Marisol, right? The last time Eddie had this kind of giggly little phone interaction it was in 6x18 with Marisol. But the show wants us to believe it's Tommy and to connect all of Eddie's actions with Tommy to being potentially romantic.
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Buck specifically has a basketball delivered to the station instead of, you know, his home, in order for Eddie to notice that Buck is suddenly interested in basketball and invite him again to play with them on Thursday. And again, I don't blame Eddie for missing the signs here. Buck has made it clear multiple times in the past that he does not want to play basketball with the other firefighters. So why would Eddie suddenly assume he's interested now? Plus he's distracted on the phone, so he might not have even really fully processed what Buck said or the insinuation of wanting to play basketball on Thursday. Buck sits down completely rejected because his latest attempt to gain EDDIE'S ATTENTION (not Tommy's) has been foiled. But thankfully Chimney comes along and provides Buck another access point.
Even Chimney is confused as to why Buck suddenly wants to play basketball. His excuses are weak, and Chimney instantly clocks that Buck isn't really there to play basketball with him but because he's trying to get in with Eddie and Tommy. Whether or not Chimney knows that Buck's trying to do it for Eddie's attention is unknown. We know that he was partially around when Buck was blabbing to Maddie, but he may not have caught the full context.
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Again, Buck is witness to how easily Tommy and Eddie touch, even though this in particular is much more "bro-y" than anything Buck and Eddie have ever done before. It's interesting that even though the episode is trying to show that the Tommy/Eddie relationship is similar to the Buck/Eddie relationship, there are still pointed times like this where the show still frames Tommy/Eddie as very very different, platonic-only, much more "bro-like" friendship.
This time however EDDIE is the one who calls Tommy "his boy!". Now we're finally getting the reversal of Tommy in Eddie's possessive. BUT this doesn't shift Eddie out of Tommy's possessive just yet. Instead, it is a mutual claim in conjunction with the rest of the scene that follows. So now it's not just a fear that Buck has that Eddie would choose Tommy over him, it's metaphorically come true. Now Tommy is Eddie's boy, and if that's the case, where does that leave Buck?
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Eddie, as lovingly oblivious as always, is shocked to see Buck here and subtly showcases his own jealousy. It's not anywhere near on the same level, but it does show Eddie noticing that Buck never says yes to him to play basketball, but somehow Chim got him to come? It does show that Eddie is still thinking about Buck here and thinking about what Eddie wasn't able to do to convince him.
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This little exchange shows yet another little way in which Tommy is encroaching on Buck's place with Eddie. The trope of "battlefield boyfriends" aka the two of them against the world. Tommy is extremely confident that he and Eddie will be able to beat Buck and Chim, and that rubs Buck the wrong way. Because up until now it's been BuckAndEddie against everyone else, and now it's TommyAndEddie. They're each other's "men". They're the team against Buck. Now it's become something hostile.
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This is a poke at Buck because he figures out he's bisexual at the end of the episode. But it's also funny because back in the day there used to be a lot of talk around Eddie in particular having beards. Beards can be both a conscious or unconscious choice on the part of a queer person. For some people, they don't know they're using someone as a beard because they're still deep in compulsive heterosexuality. In my opinion, this description fits Eddie and Marisol best at this point in time. I'm not saying that this Chim line is about Eddie, but it does bring up the question of beards in canon and who/what might be considered a beard in the current storyline.
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Buck, honey, Eddie was paying you so much attention here. He was trying to have a fun game of basketball game here, but Buck couldn't even let himself enjoy it because he couldn't get it out of his mind that Eddie wasn't on his team, that Eddie's playing against him, with Tommy.
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Eddie says an interesting line here to Buck: "You ain't getting past me" and it's so true, Eddie. Buck is probably not ever gonna be able to move past his feelings for you, regardless of who he dates in the middle.
And then we have yet another directorial camera shot that mimics the same dynamic at the end of 7x03. Eddie is running forward, Buck is desperately following behind him, and Tommy's running behind both of them. This could be foreshadowing again how no matter how much Tommy might try, Buck will always be chasing after Eddie.
Something else interesting to me is how the Buck/Eddie body slam is similar to the Eddie/Tommy body slam. These "intricate rituals" queer men will have in order to find socially acceptable ways to touch each other. It also takes me back to earlier in the meta where I talked about men using fighting/physical violence as an excuse to touch each other, hence why wrestling is a homoerotic sport. I don't know what was going through Buck's head, but I do think he was trying in some way, to force back that physical touch with Eddie, and take it away from Tommy. And in a way, it does also feel like a punishment. Like Buck's trying to make Eddie feel bad for being this physical with Tommy. And yes, Buck was in the wrong here. He let his hurt and jealousy get the best of him here and hurt Eddie in the process.
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I've seen people wonder why Buck wasn't freaking out about Eddie the way he has in the past. Well, one, this isn't a life or death scenario, and two, this is the first time it's ever been Buck's fault that Eddie's hurt. I think Buck's in shock. He's probably stunned and disgusted with himself and his desire to help Eddie is being hindered by extreme guilt, hurt, shame, and a whirlwind of other emotions he probably can't process in the moment. And that leads him to just stand still and watch instead of trying to help. He likely also thinks that Eddie wouldn't accept his help at this moment either. Buck does try to be the one who takes Eddie to the hospital, and likely would've apologized along the way. It could've been a good time for them to talk, to confront and work out the issue, but Tommy (once again) swoops in to be the one to help Tommy, effectively cutting off Buck's last chance to prove himself to Eddie.
Now, Buck's lost the last thing he can provide to Eddie over Tommy: safety, having his back, and being the one person he can always trust above all else. Buck probably thinks he's broken Eddie's trust and will lose him to Tommy for sure now. That's the kind of catastrophizing I can see him leaping to at this point in time.
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Buck then does what he does best, and pulls away. Not because he doesn't care about Eddie, but because he's already accepted that he's lost Eddie.
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Buck admits that this was a backward way of punishing Eddie, and Maddie rightfully puts him in his place for that. But then again, Maddie is speaking from a place of knowing what it's like to be physically abused (not saying this is abuse but it does still inform Maddie's perspective). Buck however is acting not from a place of an abuser or actually wanting to hurt someone, but from a place of living his whole life only knowing one way of getting people's attention. And for the longest time, that method involved hurting himself. And this time when hurting himself wasn't an option, it ended up coming out as hurting Eddie. Again, I am not trying to condone or excuse Buck's actions, but I am trying to provide a reason so we're not out here writing a million think pieces and fics about how Buck is suddenly a horrible physically abusive person (we're NOT having a repeat of the way y'all treated Eddie after the streetfighting arc). He made a mistake and obviously, he's going to apologize to Eddie and sincerely understand his actions were absolutely not it in the next episode. So, just like we're giving Eddie some grace here, let's give Buck some grace too. Moving on.
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Maddie does have a point, and she's right in a lot of ways, however, she, as a (as far as we know) straight woman, is coming at this from the perspective of being "friend-jealous" which we all know is disproven for Buck less than 10 minutes later. This talk with Maddie does give Buck good advice, but at the same time, I do believe it's likely confused him further. Because now he believes that the way he was feeling was normal best friend jealousy feelings when they really were not. Her advice is solid but doesn't really push Buck to think deeper about why all of a sudden he felt like Eddie making a new friend was the end of the goddamn world. And she can't really know to push him in that direction because she's operating under the assumption that Buck is straight. But he's not. They're both missing fundamental information here and without that, Buck still cannot truly process the depth of his feelings. I think this is a large part of why when Tommy comes over and kisses him in the next scene, Buck finds it very easy to glom onto the "out of nowhere" notion that the reason he was acting this way the entire episode is because he wants Tommy. It's very well true that Buck could've been experiencing physical attraction and an infatuation/crush on Tommy, but now, with Maddie's misinformed permission, switches targets and projects all of his big bi feelings onto Tommy.
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Buck is surprised Tommy came over, the audience and Buck both expect Eddie to be standing on the other side of the door. Tommy seems like a very observant character. He picks up on Buck's queerness (and likely Eddie's) and picks up on why Buck has been acting out of character the whole episode. Buck owns up to his actions and admits that yes, Tommy and Eddie can be friends and Eddie can have more than one friend.
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We then get an acknowledgment from Tommy that actually when he spends time with Eddie and Chris, the two of them talk about Buck a lot. Eddie isn't specifically mentioned, but it's implied that Eddie has told Tommy a lot about Buck if Tommy already knows that Buck is an irreplaceable part of both their lives. It's also funny because the last time someone said this, it was Buck trying to reassure Christopher that none of his dad's girlfriends would ever replace his mom. This once again firmly places Buck in the category of an irreplaceable parent for Christopher.
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This is another callback to season 3, the last time Buck and Eddie fought over the lawsuit, and Buck "making it about himself". This is a consistent character flaw in Buck, and at least now all of the characters can recognize it for what it is. It's also a callback to the 3x09 scene "You're gonna make it about you? again?" But see the thing is, I don't really think Buck was making Tommy and Eddie's friendship about him. I think he was hit with a rush of fear of missing out on what he and Eddie could be, and because he still didn't have the words to explain what exactly that meant, it came out in the only way he could think to communicate it: through trying to get Eddie's attention like a little kid pulling a girl's pigtails. It's unhealthy, yes, but it's all Buck really knows at this point.
Tommy admits that he was also jealous, not exactly of Buck and Eddie, but of the 118 and how they've built an unbreakable family bond that only came to be right after he left. Tommy wanted to be a part of that, and oh boy, if that's something Buck can relate to. The specific black hole craving to find a family that accepts you.
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And I absolutely believe that Buck is curious about Tommy, does want to be his friend, and does think he's super cool and probably thinks he's super hot and attractive as well. But the vibe I'm getting here is that Buck is seeking out in Tommy what he craves from Eddie.
Go to part 4 for the last part I swear!!
Part 4. Part 1, Part 2.
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army93bangya · 9 months
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The Moon Goddess’s Chosen | Chapter 3 | MYG [M]
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*Chapter 3
*Summary: A mate connection has been made between Y/N and Alpha Min. What will Y/N's Father and Darius do now? How will Yoongi and Y/N react?
*Genre/Rating: Mature, 18+, Werewolf/Fated mates, eventual smut? 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️
*Warnings/Potential Triggers: Talks of Child Abuse, Abuse, Non-con Touching, Mistreatment, Non-con Confinement, Angst, Anxiety, Nervousness, Character Poisoning, Explicit Language, Mention of plotting Murder, Mention of Murder/Massacre, Reader is going thru it, Confrontation, Violence, Choking, Panic Attack, Possible future Smut,….more to be added in future chapters
*Disclaimer: This work was written and owned by Army93bangya and there is no consent for anyone else to post it as theirs, this story is intended for entertainment purposes only, this is a work of fantasy, seems a bit ridiculous to say but I do not own or have rights to BTS or the members and the characters in this story are a fictional interpretation of members.
*Words: 3780
*Notes: This chapter was harder to type out than the previous ones. I knew how I wanted this to go in my head but getting it out and written took me awhile. Nevertheless, I am satisfied with how it turned out and I hope you the readers can pick up on the words and emotions that are unspoken here. I have a feeling the next chapter might take me longer to get out but please be patient with me. 😊 I would love to hear thoughts after reading, it makes me very happy! As always thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!
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Fuck her. When you come back to yourself that's the first thought you have, being faced with the situation before you. Alpha Min is your fated mate. The alpha that massacred not one, not two, but three packs. The alpha that enlisted rogues, criminals, to aid him in his atrocious endeavors. She supposedly blessed him, giving him strength more immense than any other living alpha. Then she gave him her mage wolf, you, as his fated mate. She champions this alpha that murders, who seems to have no benevolence for innocent life among the bad. What is her vision? Whatever it is you want no part of it anymore, and yet she has once again chosen your path in life for you, she compelled you to make eye contact, commanded you to make the connection to this alpha with a force so powerful you had no choice but to oblige.
Alpha Min is standing about ten feet from you, who is just about being fully held up by Darius’s grip at this point. You loathe to admit that to you, he is the most attractive man you have ever laid eyes upon. With pale skin, eyes that seem to be able to glimpse into a person's soul, hair so dark it is almost black, and long enough to reach the nap of his neck while also framing his face. And what an exquisite face it is. What is surprising is that for a wolf who is said to be some high-powered alpha, his stature does not match up to his speculated reputation. You now understand Darius’s outburst earlier a little more now, but you of all people know that looks can be deceiving. If you yourself were to stand right in front of Alpha Min, the top of your head would probably reach slightly above his shoulders. You're supposed to be powerful as well, but you are short for a wolf and at the moment you just look and feel pitiful.
He does not acknowledge the person that greeted him. No, instead he is staring you down with an expression so blank you wonder if he has any emotions at all. What is he going to do? He knows you’re his mate now. Holy shit your father! Your father and Darius are right here too! Throwing a quick glance towards the man, your fathers body language speaks of his frustration and rage at the situation before him. His fists clenched and the look behind his eyes burning with intent to kill, although you know he won’t pull anything with so many people around to witness. You internally start to be filled with even more panic. What is your father going to do now that you have made the connection to your mate? Darius and him have both told you if you bonded, they would kill your mate. But this alpha is formidable, you can feel the power radiating off of him while you are left feeling faint from all the stress you have gone through today, the wolfsbane, the mate connection being made, it is all too much.
“You're Unwell.” Eyes growing wider you stare at his now back to normal dark brown ones as those are the first two words he utters and they’re directed at you. You can't even process what he means by his words to think of a response before Darius is answering for you. “She is fine, Alpha Min, just tired. The day has been long already and we were just about to retire back to our camp.” Fuck! Darius' arm that's almost fully holding you up looks possessive, his scent is still all over you, and now he is speaking for you. To any wolf that sees the two of you it's blatantly obvious that he is laying claim to you. At this point though you pray that this alpha does not dispute or is hopefully disgusted by this display and walks away, walks away from his fated mate, from you. You who has obviously been chosen by another, even without being marked, and you never thought you would see the day when you would be okay with Darius’s disgusting possessive nature of you. But the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know, and right now Alpha Min is definitely not someone you want to get to know. His entire aura feels threatening. The concerning part though is how Alpha Min is reacting, even with you in Darius’s arms, and his words.
Like before Alpha Min does not physically respond to Darius’s words either, which you just know is infuriating the bonehead to no end, being so disregarded has got to bruise that over-inflated ego. He just continues to gaze upon you, but there is a flicker of expression on his face, you try to decipher the best you can, but are left confused when the only thing you can come up with for that fleeting change was apprehension? Concern? You're not sure but don't have time to consider anymore, because Alpha Min, for the first time since you made eye contact with him, and a mate connection, looks away from you.
He looks away from you, then directly at Darius in a way that seems to say he has less worth than a bug underneath the alphas boot, before finally settling on your father, who has been quietly observing and assessing the situation so far. Probably trying to come up with a new plan, because there is no way in hell they thought an alpha this powerful would be your mate, even with all the stories of a mage wolf's mate being born strong enough to protect the goddesses chosen. Oh. Well now that makes sense, why the moon goddess would bless this alpha. The fact that you had yet to put together this corresponding correlation makes you feel incredibly dumb. Alpha Min's posture is relaxed and you can't help but think that it is done in an arrogant, mocking manner. To appear so unbothered being surrounded by so many who might wish you harm shows an extreme level of either confidence or ignorance, and you just know it's the former. 
“Rumors almost always have a measure of truth to them. Shall I enlighten you on some of those truths?” Holy Shit! How? How could he have known that's what was being discussed by these three, they were speaking low enough, and he had to be far enough away that even wolf hearing should not have been able to pick up on it! Darius' mouth falls open in shock surprise, Alpha Sharp takes a quick inhale of breath, and your father impressively appears undisturbed, which does not bode well. Gone is the subtle rage you were able to discern from being ‘raised’ by the man, when he presents such a passive exterior, you know that he is conspiring. Suddenly three of your fathers betas appear and position themselves around your group, ready to defend or attack at command. Alpha Min does not respond to the betas whatsoever, doesn't move or withdraw even a inch. Your father studies the younger alpha before responding. “If you wish to regale us with the truths of mindless gossip, Alpha Sharp and I shall oblige you. Darius, why don't you take Y/N back to camp now to rest?”
Darius starts to turn with you when Alpha Min's eyes transfer to him with such a sinister look you can't help the shiver that runs through your body, reminding you of your pain all over again. “Move one step and both your arms will be removed from your body before your pack betas can even think to intervene.” Five men appear and stand behind Alpha Min forming a half circle, faces serious and ready for trouble. His betas. You freeze, Darius freezes. Before anyone else can respond Alpha Min shoots a quick glance at the arm wrapped around you and then looks away from the two of you, focusing back on your father like he didn’t just issue a threat. 
“The ‘mindless’ gossip questions if I have been blessed by the goddess and born stronger than that of a normal wolf. But if the goddess truly was to bless me upon my birth would she just give me enhanced strength? Or enhanced senses as well. For example, hearing amplified enough that it is effortless for me to hear conversations and gossip better done in private.” You're stunned. In fact you think everybody on your side of this confrontation is mutely astounded. He smirks. “Or maybe even my sense of smell so heightened I could smell my mate from a half a mile away, even with her completely enveloped in your mutts scent.” He looks back at you, smirk gone, and you can definitely see the scarce worry in his eyes now. It leaves you feeling bewildered and uncomfortable. 
“While Alpha Sharp was relaying you with all the humorous stories that are being told about myself and my pack, I couldn't help but inspect my mate's appearance. What's concerning is how unwell she appears to be while you three chatter on around her outwardly unaware of her distress.” His expression turns tense while still somehow appearing calm. “I was puzzled as to why none of you seemed to notice or care about her noticeable discomfort. So I decided to come over to check on her myself.” His eyes have now turned frigid, the murderous aura radiating off him enough to have just about any wolf running for it with their tail between their legs. “Imagine my surprise when I got closer only to notice another scent coming from her. A normal wolf would not be able to pick up the scent with such a miniscule amount.” He turns his full body to your father, giving him a look promising hell on earth and retribution. “Wolfsbane. This she-wolf has wolfsbane in her system, and judging by the fact that you two seem untroubled this entire time, I can only conclude that you are both aware of the poison coursing through her.”
Silence. Utter silence with what must be shock before Alpha Sharp seems to recover and respond. “That is a serious accusation Alpha Min, One that only you can seemingly prove if you can smell the wolfsbane on her like you say you can.” Your Father immediately cuts in. “It's insulting and incredulous is what it is! Why on earth would you think that I, her father, or my successor, who is to be her chosen mate, would poison her!?” He's quite the actor, he seems considerably offended. Studying the man you can see his body is radiating stress, this day has not gone the way he was hoping and now he has to come up with a different plan immediately. The tension is permeating the area surrounding you and starting to draw attention from onlookers. 
Alpha Min turns his head back towards you and inspects your person with an intense expression. You refuse to look at him instead choosing to stare at the ground before your feet. You didn’t need to see this alpha viewing you with such pity and aversion, Or worse would be  him inspecting you like you are his property. That is about all you feel like anymore, seen as nothing but property. He must notice the attention that has been brought to this conflict, because his next words are much lower to only be heard by the wolves in his vicinity. “Some of the Min packs history is known by all. But as the last Alpha of that pack's son, I was raised learning so much history of not just the Min pack, but the Kim pack as well. History that other packs were not privy too. I know what the gifts that were given to me by the moon goddess means, know what purpose they are meant to serve.” He focuses back on your father with an amused look, like catching a petulant child in a poorly made scheme. 
“Did you honestly think her mate wouldn’t be able to tell who she is? Even without my knowledge of what she is I could tell as soon as the connection was made. You’ve been hiding her from the world Alpha Y/L/N. Which explains the wolfsbane and her current state, i'm guessing you poisoned her to keep her weak and compliant, your lackey scenting her enough to mask her scent, It's quite a clever plan but in the end proved futile.” Your mate is quite perceptive and you can't help but think that doesn’t bode well for you either. This entire situation is fucked. You look up and survey Alpha Sharp. At Alpha Min's words, he is looking at your father with confusion. As his ally and close friend, maybe he is hoping the man will enlighten him as to what the hell the younger alpha is going on about. Despite your jest about his intelligence earlier, you know that Alpha Sharp is very clever and it will not take him long for the puzzle to be put together.
“What do you want? You can not have my daughter, she has been promised to Darius and even if she wasn’t I will not allow her to leave my pack. So we will have to come to some other arrangement.” Astonished. You are utterly astonished that your father has now sunk to bargaining with this alpha. Your mind racing, you begin to ponder what could possibly be going through his head right now. He must be desperate in his desire to keep your abilities to himself. After analyzing your father for a long moment, Alpha Min finally opens his mouth to respond. “Other than my mate you have nothing that I could possibly want. And you are going to give her to me, Otherwise it would be quite unfortunate for you to have your secret come out here. With so many packs gathered I can not begin to imagine how they would take hearing such deception all together, what actions would arise from such treachery. My only internal conflict is would I stand by and watch the brutal justice that would most likely ensue, or partake in the execution that I am sure would be quite creative. As for your lapdog, I find that he is too ignorant and would be an inadequate mate for someone such as her. A very poor choice on your part.”
The scene that unfolds before you has you on the verge of passing out, whether it be from terror or your current condition finally taking its toll is undetermined. Darius for the first time since you got to this clearing releases you from his hold causing you to drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and begins to charge at Alpha Min. The betas all move to respond, but it is the Bangtan pack betas that advance quicker. Three of the unknown men have your fathers betas on the ground pinned at the same moment like it was some synchronized dance they practiced for months. Another of your fated mates betas has made the decision to progress to you. Kneeling himself behind you, he then gently lifts you into a sitting position, taking your weight and cradling you in a protective way. Utterly alarmed you begin to attempt to move away but he shushes you in a comforting manner before whispering in your ear. “It is okay Luna, we will get you out of here and seen by a healer soon. Just rest.” What the hell did he just call you!?! Hearing that title directed at you from this betas lips has left you completely dumbstruck causing you to cease any half-assed attempt to flee.
A hair-raising growl rings out, drawing your attention away from the beta that is basically back hugging you, to the scene developing a few paces in front of you. Alpha Min has Darius lifted in the air with a hand around his throat, his last remaining beta positioned in a defensive stance between his leader and the two remaining alphas. But both Alpha Sharp and your father are motionless as if they have been paralyzed. It is an inconceivable thing to behold that would make you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind, if not for the shock that has seemed to grip everyone. Alpha Min, who is perhaps four inches shorter and weighing maybe thirty-five to forty pounds less than Darius, has his arm locked and raised completely above his head with your fathers chosen heir in his grasp. His wolf side has come forth through his eyes again and a fierce look on his face promising suffering to the man he is depriving of oxygen. 
Darius has both hands at work between gripping the hand attached to his neck trying to pry it off and slapping at the alphas arm attempting to break the hold. He has panic in his eyes and you wonder if this alpha, your fated mate, is about to kill him in front of all these packs. But Darius changes his efforts realizing due to the height difference just how close he is to the alphas body that has him hoisted in the air. He draws his right leg back with the intent to drive it into Alpha Min’s body, hopefully landing a blow that will cause the alpha to release him. But the now proven blessed alpha is quicker, right when Darius’s leg is drawn back as far as it can go and before he can propel it forward, Alpha Min swings his body and the arm that he is using to restrain Darius and launches him toward your father. 
Darius lands right at your fathers' feet and begins coughing with quick attempted inhales while clutching his neck. The man that has done his part in tormenting you for the last few years is curled on the ground looking as pitiful as he always tried to make you feel. Your father is glaring at Alpha Min with a look full of hatred. The younger alpha composes himself and looks to you in the arms of his beta before examining the rest of the situation at hand. At his nod the three betas that have been subduing your fathers' wolves release them and immediately two of them come over to guard you while the third joins the beta at his alphas side and resumes a defensive position. Alpha Sharp has disappeared from the area, probably to find his betas. You didn't think he would be one to abandon his closest ally and friend, but then again if he has figured out the implications of Alpha Min's words you do not know how he will take your fathers deception.
Your father has been bested and he knows it. If he tries to object to your mate taking you he will be outed and most likely killed with his head spiked onto a piece of wood from one of the many piles in the clearing. If he engages in a fight with the Bangtan pack there is no guarantee that he would come out victorious, in-fact with the display the younger alpha and three of his betas just demonstrated you father has no chance if he attacks head on. Not to mention in the midst of a mate gathering, spilling blood or killing will get your pack banned from future gatherings which would be detrimental to the pack. As it is right now, this skirmish can be concealed as two wolves disputing over a mate, which is not uncommon at gatherings and a believable excuse.  You see the moment your fathers expression changes to a beaten frustration, resigning himself to the inevitable outcome.  
You know that this isn't the end of it, your father will not go quietly and accept defeat so easily. He is probably currently fuming with rage over everything that has occurred this day. Your mate finding you and it being none other than the blessed Alpha Min Yoongi. Not being able to manipulate the situation and turn it in his favor, which he is an expert at. The embarrassment he is probably feeling over Darius’s failed attack and that he was defeated so easily. No, your father is going to yield and comply today so that he can regroup, come up with a sinister plan he can execute in the shadows, and be able to get away with. All of this deductive reasoning brings you to a horrifying realization, your father is going to let Alpha Min take you. He is going to take you and there is nothing that you can do to stop it, too weak to fight back and you hardly think he is the type to listen to you if you verbally refuse. 
The new wave of panic you feel is too much, you're breathing harder now. Ears ringing and your vision going in and out of focus, you know you are very close to passing out. It is all too much, you can't hold on for much longer. You feel arms tighten on you a fraction before you are being lifted with an arm around your back and another under your knees. You hear the beta carrying you, the one that named you his luna, call out to his alpha. Alpha Min has been staring down your father looking for the cue that there will be no further intervention from him or his pathetic protege, who is just now sitting up from the fetal position he was in. Upon hearing his beta, he glances to see you in the man's arms struggling to remain conscious.
“I’ve got her Jimin, we need to get her back to camp quickly and have the healer take a look at her.” Those are the words that you hear but it all sounds hazy, like you are underwater and there is a loud boom coming from above. You feel slightly jostled as you are being transferred from one pair of arms into another. Oh. These arms smell nice. In your unaware state, you find yourself shifting your head to bury your face where the scent is strongest. Nose pressed directly against skin, you inhale and begin to feel your entire body relax as it sinks further into the depths of a comatose like state. It smells like comfort, like settling into a warm comfy bed after a long day. It is utter relief. The last thing your senses pick up on before you are plunged completely under is a rumbling coming from the soothing scent, and you think it means contentment.
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pigeonwhumps · 7 days
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Alphabet of Whump: H is for Home
A recently discarded, desperate pet approaches a house he hopes might hold kind people.
(or, Charlie finds a home)
CWs: BBU, pet whump, zip ties, restrained, mention of possible amputation (non-medical), starvation, implied non-con, self-dehumanisation, crawling
The pet crouches in the mouth of the alleyway, watching the house opposite.
Not– not directly opposite. But nearly. Shiny bronze numbers on a polished wooden door. Neat brickwork. Big front garden filled with native plants. Polished swirly fence and gate. Sparkling tiled path.
The pet has been watching this house for a while now, and he has learned three things.
1) He has never heard shouting. Not at anyone, not even the woman who works there. The man sometimes speaks sternly into his phone but nobody ever shouts or screams or yells.
2) Everything is neat. But he doesn't think it's a show house where only perfect people live (he's nowhere near a perfect pet (a perfect pet wouldn't think) (a perfect pet wouldn't be thrown away)).
3) The man has a dog. A puppy. He walks it, and the woman walks it, and sometimes the pet can see around the side to watch the puppy being played with. He got close, once, and the puppy sensed him but didn't attack. It doesn't have any scars that he can see. Maybe, if they're kind to that puppy, they'll be kind to this one too.
The pet's stomach cramps, hard enough to force him to double over, feeling nauseous. Even if they're not kind, it'll be better than starving.
Maybe.
Probably.
He's good at begging.
It'll be better than being found here. Then he'll be hurt, and hurt again, and sent back to the people who took his name and threw him away. And then they'll chop his forearm off to get rid of the barcode and leave him to bleed out.
He doesn't want to die yet. He wants to be loved useful again first.
(Pets don't have wants. Bad mutt.)
He stands. The puppy will be let out into the garden at some point, and that's his best option for getting in. Pleading his case.
He hopes he's made a good choice. He's not known for it.
(He shouldn't be making decisions at all.)
It still feels profoundly wrong to walk instead of crawl, something in his body twitches and burns and aches with punishment, but he's learned that he has to, especially when crossing the road. People look at him with disgust if he doesn't.
His knees threaten to give out, but he keeps walking. It's the longest he's walked without stopping. Maybe not ever, though. He still has longings for a hike with the good kind of ache.
(Pets shouldn't long for anything that isn't their owners.)
(Bad mutt.)
The pet pushes the latch of the side gate up with his bound hands and shuts it again once he's on the other side. It's very fiddly.
There. There's the garden, in all its green glory. He settles in the bushes to wait for the puppy to emerge, half lying down, leaning on his elbows.
It's not long before the back door opens. Or maybe it is, maybe he's retreated again like he's prone to when he's not required to be an active participant in being used.
(He's not supposed to do that. Bad mutt.)
The dog comes charging into the garden. It's round, with stubby legs and a too-long tail that it hits itself in the face with. The pet loves it.
(Pets don't have likes. Bad mutt.)
He shakes himself out of his head and starts pushing himself towards the open back door, towards where he needs to wait until whoever let the dog out returns. He doesn't want to miss his chance.
He's walked too much today. It's tricky to crawl with his hands tied in front of him, but he manages it, pulling himself along. He settles into a kneeling position just behind the door.
Footsteps approach. A woman sticks her head out of the door and calls, "Mathonwy! Here, boy!"
The pet pushes himself the last few inches he needs to go to make it to within her sight. She looks... friendly, he hopes. Not too polished.
(He's allowed to hope.)
She sees him and freezes.
"Well, you're not Mathonwy."
The pet looks up at her with his best puppy dog eyes, hands resting on his legs. He yips pathetically.
Most people don't like dogs that talk.
"No, you don't have to– you can talk. Can– can you talk?"
"Yes, miss," he whispers hoarsely. It's been a while, and his mouth is so dry.
She smiles, though it looks a little forced. The pet hears thundering behind him and Mathonwy barrels into his side. He falls and the puppy starts licking his face.
"Oh, for– Mathonwy, come!" Mathonwy lets him go reluctantly and returns to the woman for ear scratches. "Sorry about that. Young staffie cross, and we're still training him. This is Mathonwy, and I'm Mandy. Are you okay?"
The pet nods and sits back up. He's always okay, although no-one's ever asked him before. "Right. Well. I assume you wouldn't be here if you had anywhere else to go, so come inside. No– you can walk, you don't need to– I mean, whatever makes you feel comfortable I guess. What do I call you?"
The pet heaves himself up against the doorframe. His name was Fido, but that was taken when he was thrown away. He's not their dog anymore either, not if he's not there. He can still be a puppy, he was sometimes that for clients and nobody's said he can't be, but he doesn't even have the ears for it. And it might get confusing. He's not a mutt, he's not being bad, he's sure he's not. Is he? That's not a status he can give himself, only a person can decide that. All he can remember otherwise is his designation.
"I– this puppy is– I– my designation is 726E, miss."
Maybe he is a mutt. That was a mess, and not even a cute one, which clients sometimes excuse because puppies make messes.
"Okay, well, that isn't much of a name. No offence."
How could the pet take any offence? He's not supposed to feel anything.
And yet, he knows that isn't true.
(Just another reason to add to the list of why he's so unwanted.)
Miss pulls a chair out from the table and swivels it around, patting the dark wood. "Sit down here, hun. We'll cut those zip ties and your collar too, and then I think you could do with a bath and some food. What do you think?"
Baths are icy with soap that stings, and he hasn't been able to keep any food down for a while (it's part of the reason he was thrown away and what if she discovers and does it too?). Not having a collar means he's unwanted or about to be used so heavily, so violently, that it might be damaged or stained. But there's only one possible answer.
"Yes, miss."
Miss brings over a pair of scissors as he manoeuvres himself into the chair, crouching down (which is wrong, wrong, wrong) and taking his hands. With a couple of cuts, none of which break his skin, the cable ties are on the floor.
Cutting the collar is much less pleasant. It's thick, heavy leather, and stuck to his skin in places. He can't stop himself from crying out, especially when she starts dabbing at the edges with a wet sponge to loosen it.
"I'm sorry, hun. Nearly done now."
Miss' touch is quick and efficient, no lingering or stroking that's always a prelude to something awful that he was trained to do, and he finds himself leaning into it. He has no ears to scratch behind but this is almost as good.
"Oh, hun." She sets the scissors down and drops the sections of collar onto the floor (his neck feels so much lighter, and so wrong), gathering him into her arms. He stiffens, startled, and then realises this is just gentle. It's not sexual or painful part of his function, it just is, and he leans his head on her shoulder, giving up on stopping the tears escaping.
Dogs don't cry, they can't, but nobody's ever managed to train it out of him.
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obislittleone · 1 year
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Temple of the Forbidden Eye (3)
Indiana Jones x OC
Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid. 
A/n: since indy came out this weekend, here’s a veeeery long chapter to suffice your indy needs
Warnings: oh boy… bullying, good ol’ fashioned misogyny, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood and bruises (not explicitly), like.. one swear word.
(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)
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The late night work became a regular occurrence, along with her occupying the guest room for those nights. She was always gone when Dr. Jones woke up. It concerned him at first, but he figured she just didn't want to be a burden, not that she ever was. The more time he spent around her, the more it became obvious to him that she tried her best to take up as little space as she possibly could. 
Since her presence in his home became a regular event, he started keeping food stocked. He made it very clear that he did it for her benefit and she was welcome to anything he has. This led to her making dinner for the both of them often while they worked. He would bring whatever they had been working on with him and set it up on the breakfast counter connected to the rest of his kitchen. She would read between steps or they'd talk about whatever the work was. He came to enjoy these times, even if it was only subconsciously. 
Of course, spending as much time with him as she was, it was bound to come back around to bite her. The rumors started relatively quickly. She was able to handle rumors; they'd unfortunately been a major part of her life growing up, and mostly just drew attention from those stupid enough to believe them. That didn't mean she enjoyed the staring, though. She much preferred when she was more or less invisible to her peers and professors. She knew they looked before, that was fine. They were surprised to see a woman in their fancy, expensive classes, let alone one who wears trousers. She didn't mind those looks. Those looks at least were respectful enough to look away when she caught them. Those looks were only because they were shocked to have seen something of her nature…
Now, it's different. Now, they don't look away when she sees them looking. Instead, they throw daggers with their eyes and whisper to each other as she passes. She has had things like this happen before but never for her own decisions. It is different when one makes the choice to continue doing the thing everyone is gossiping about. It made everything more… obvious to her. 
Scarlet was many things; traits that she knew she had and traits that people who she entrusted told her she had. Paranoid was not on the list of said traits. She had never had a reason to be paranoid. Perhaps she did now. Jealousy can make a person do terrible things, especially when the person believes they are more entitled to whatever the object of their envy has. Boys don’t like when they are shown up by girls who are supposedly smarter than they are. Little rich boys hate it more than anything else in the world. 
The twenty-some year old college goers who sat in front of and across her in Professor Jones’ class, only looking behind or to the side of them when he called on her for every question he asked the students. She was smart, but they all had reason to believe he was favoring her over one thing. Her good looks and time available after school. Everyone had heard about their little arrangement, with her as his ‘apprentice’ though she had never done any work in the field. It all seemed too suspicious for a young girl to be residing at her Professor’s home every other day. Her test scores didn’t lie, but the boys in the class did not exactly have access to those. They only saw what was right in front of their eyes, and it looked to them like a scandal. Teacher’s pet, the favorite of them all. She had what they couldn’t have. They couldn’t possibly look at their own merit and decide that it was the real reason for their lacking, so they insisted it must be the fact that she was getting special attention. 
There were two boys in particular, that were especially miffed about her enhanced situation. They had discussed it with one another and took it upon themselves to be the voice of reason, deciding it would be best if she were brought down a few pegs. Just enough to be sure that she wouldn’t feel as high and mighty anymore. 
They waited by the glass case of school awards in the hallway closest to Professor Jones’ classroom, pretending to be in full conversation whilst their colleagues walked by. Some of them entered the class, completely unaware of what the foolish boys planned to do. 
Down the hall came Scarlet Ledger, accompanied by none other than Henry Jones. No other heads were turned as they walked, however, for it was a rather busy time of day, and the students were more focussed on getting to their next class, rather than who they saw in the way of their destination. Last night, they had gone over a series of notes from an old friend of his, who was unable to finish an expedition on an artifact he’d spent years preparing to find. Having received the journals and maps from the retired associate was like being handed the answers to a test. It was all there, and all he had to do now was go out and find it. She had been helping him to figure out the little details, and now the discussion was if she would be joining him or not on this wild endeavor. He, of course, claimed it was too dangerous for a first timer to be brought along on such an elaborate journey. 
“You should start with something more local, like I did,” he turned to her, trying to convey that he did not think her unable, but only inexperienced in the field thus far to take on something so big. 
“It’s not like I’m going alone,” she replied with a small laugh. He made it sound like she would be single handedly making the trek to the treasure. It was a silly notion to think that he was so worried, when he himself was running point on the entire thing. “Not to overestimate you Professor Jones, but I believe you have the ability to defend me if the need should arise. Not that I think it will, I’ll only be assisting you when needed, hence the title of ‘Apprentice.’”
His chuckle was combated by the shake of his head. He knew that eventually he would be giving in to her, because she had this trait of arguing, and just plainly talking her way into something she hadn’t been a part of before. It was often infuriating, but he never walked away from a challenge, even one he knew there was no chance of winning. 
“We’ll talk more after school,” he said, temporarily ending the conversation and walking ahead of her to his classroom. She stopped in her tracks, smiling like a ten year old school girl that was about to be on summer vacation. 
He curved his steps, stepping into the doorway and out of her vision. She usually lingered in the hallway for a few moments, as to avoid the stares when she walked in precisely after he did. It sounded ridiculous that she would even make such efforts, but she made the decision consciously, and it often worked.
She kicked her heels over the ground and clutched her books tightly to her chest, wandering about for a few seconds more. She took steps towards the door, but collided with two young men, and had to back away quickly. 
“I’m so sorry,” she looked to the floor, where one of the boy’s papers had been dropped. She knelt quickly and grabbed them before the breezy open hallway could send them fluttering about. She stood back up to face them with a smile, handing the shorter boy his papers back. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m afraid I’m a bit clumsier than usual.”
They didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. Strange boys, she thought. She attempted to simply nod and pass around them, but the taller one blocked her way, making himself like a brick wall between her and her favorite class. 
“Pardon me,” she said sweetly, trying once more to walk around him but failing to do so when the other boy decided to also stand in her way. She was peeved, but wouldn't show it on her face. “Gentlemen, I am very sorry for bumping into you, but I really need to get to my class.”
“Hear that, Jim? She really needs to get to her class,” the taller boy said tauntingly. She furrowed her brow, misunderstanding why they could possibly have the need to bother her at this precise moment. She recognized them, they sat in front and across from her. Shouldn’t they also be running along to be seated in time? 
“I think Professor Jones can do without his pet for a few minutes,” the other one spoke with a humorless chuckle. It was clear to her now that they had meant to hold her up, and probably to start a scuffle. These boys were obviously clued into the rumors and false gossip that spread through the halls, but actually having the balls to instigate a fight over it was a rarity. 
“Please, if you could just let me pass,” she tried once more to barrel through the small gap between them, but they shoved her back, and she tumbled to the side a little from the force. She readjusted her grip on her books, trying to compose her posture once more. This all seemed so juvenile, like they would be the school bullies on an elementary school playground. 
“No, I don’t think I will,” one laughed, taking a step closer to her with crossed arms, the other followed. It was beginning to make her feel uneasy, and her usually confident stature was caving in upon being forced into a corner. 
As uneasy as the boys made her, she still tried her best to talk her way out. “Honestly, gentlemen. What are we, children? We all have a class to attend. I doubt you want to be late and risk missing important material.”
“I’ll take my chances,” the taller one said as he took a step closer. 
-
Henry was nothing if not observant, and furthermore, he was intricately observant. When the pair of boys walked into his class three minutes late, along with the fact that his best student was still missing from the crowd, he was able to deduce that something happened in the short time he was separated from her, and it involved the two of them. He didn’t know how, but he was quite sure. It was also notable that the two young men were the ones that sat closest to her in the room. She didn’t have a deskmate, for obvious reasons, so the fact that they were in the near vicinity also made him think that they were involved somehow. She was never late, and she was never one to ditch a class of any kind, much less her favorite. 
“Looking for someone?” one of the students asked, clearly referencing the teacher’s pet. It was funny, or at least the rest of the class thought so, breaking into small fits of quiet giggles that filled the classroom. Henry was far from amused, and did not even hesitate to ask about his prized student. 
“Has anyone seen Miss Ledger?” 
The question reverberated against the walls of the room, and made everyone quiet down. There was a hand that had been raised in the very back, it was the boy who had come in late, and sat directly across from Scarlett on most days. After being pointed at, the boy wore a proud look on his face, the expression was enough to send adrenaline coursing through Henry’s veins. 
“I saw her in the hallway only a minute ago. She seemed to be going mad, something about needing to get home so she could find more trousers,” he said, his comedic tone indicating it may have been partially a joke. The classroom again erupted into muffled laughter, but the look on their professor’s face made them straighten up very quickly. 
He wasn’t exactly worried over her, per se, but now very paranoid as to what really occurred in that hallway when he had left her there. She wouldn’t just miss a class for the reason of finding a new pair of trousers. She was his most dedicated student, and would walk through hell or high water to be in her seat by the time attendance was taken. It all just seemed too suspicious for his liking, and as annoyed as he was, he heaved a sigh, continuing his class. 
“Everyone, pay attention,” he began, droning on all the notes he had prepared with Scarlet the evening before. 
She did not leave his mind the entirety of his lesson, which made sense, given half the time he read from the papers, it was her perfect handwriting that was scrawled over the small lines. He was thankful for the release of the bell ringing through everyone’s ears when the hour was over. He only had two classes in the day, and once they were done, he was free to either sit in the Professor’s lounge, or go home. He’d much prefer to go home, considering the circumstances he’d been met with on this particular day. Avoiding the multitudes of female students as he left his office, he nearly ran to his car in the lot, trying his best not to seem like he was in a hurry. The rumors had been heard by his ears, too, and he didn’t want to give anyone fuel for the fire. 
He got home fairly quickly, which was all well and good, but the thing was that he didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do with himself once he’d entered his front door. It seemed ridiculous for him to be acting this way, as he wasn’t even sure of what had happened, but he assumed it was nothing good. He tried to calm himself by sitting on the couch in his office, reading over some of the things they’d started marking out for the expedition. He had maybe distracted himself for an hour before his doorbell rang out. 
He jumped from his seat, scattering the papers and taking large steps towards the door. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he opened the door, but the lovely image of Scarlet Ledger wearing a skirt was not on the list. She had made it more than clear in the time they spent together that she had a distaste for skirts because of some not very fond memories in her youth, and yet here she stood in a fitted tweed skirt that started high on her waist and fell just under her knees. Her sweater was the same cream one that she had been in earlier, but the skirt was not even close to her favorite chocolate brown trousers.
Pants are more comfortable, she always said, and they leave no room for impish schoolboys to mess around and flip them over your head when your back is turned.
His furrowed brows were uncontrollable, and it made her feel even worse about the situation than she already had. His eyes that scanned her up and down about three times more were not because of his dislike, but because of his shock. Truly, this was the last thing he ever thought he’d see her wear. 
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, a cheerful smile as if nothing had happened that day. “May I come in?” 
He shook his head to get rid of the nasty feeling, giving her a tight lip smile that was unconvincing next to the one he always gave her when she first arrived.
“I already started marking out the route on the map,” he said while stepping aside to let her in. Feeling the hem of her skirt brushing against his leg felt so strange, and he wasn’t sure if she was ever going to fess up to the reason why she was wearing it in the first place, but he wouldn’t bother her about it, yet. 
“You were supposed to wait for me,” she sighed out, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t paid attention to her words from last night. It had been one of the things she was most excited about. The location had been found, but it was the journey to said location that would hold all the fun that was finding such an artifact. 
“I didn’t think you were coming.”
At this she stopped, turning around and nervously looking him over. It didn’t seem like he knew anything, but she had to be sure. 
“I always come after school,” she murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Well sure, but when you didn’t show up to class, I had my doubts that you’d show up here,” he was nonchalant, but something inside him was irritated. That way she was so perfectly calm, much less while wearing a skirt. She didn’t seem to have any problem in the facts of her absence, and acted as though it never happened at all. “Speaking of which, I’d like to know why you missed my class?”
She stood awkwardly with her hands folded behind her back. She seemed very stiff, and he figured it must be the effects of her wearing the skirt. She seemed far less confident, boreline uncomfortable, which never happened in his presence. He’d made it clear what he thinks of her, and she’d never felt the need to mask her personality, nor her spunky attitude. 
“Oh? Yes, I’m sorry to have worried you,” she paused, straightening up slightly before looking him in the eye as she lied to his face. “I was lingering in the hallway, and felt a bit nauseous, so I decided to stand outside for a minute. Unfortunately, there was a bump in the doorstep that I hadn’t seen before… I fell down and scuffed up my trousers, so I went home to change before walking here.”
The look of utter ‘this is horseshit’ on his face when she finished speaking was so evident, she had to look away in order to prevent herself from faltering. Truth be told, the thing he found most amusing was just how rehearsed the story had sounded. It was so well gone over in her head, and he could hear it in the evened spaces of her words. 
“Is that the story you’re sticking with?” he tilted his head with an unconvinced expression. 
She stopped for a second to think about her response, because clearly he wasn’t buying into any of this. She knew he wouldn’t, but the truth was far more embarrassing and she’d rather not have to retell the events of which she fell into this afternoon. 
“It’s the one I have decided on, yes," she turns back to walk towards his office, choosing not to elaborate further. She decided that her response was good enough, and continued as if she wasn’t being incredibly vague and unconvincing.
He would get to the bottom of it, but if she was this defensive over what had happened, he would need to let her become comfortable again. She looked so out of place in a home she had resided in more than her own. 
As they got started, he neglected to mention anything about the incident. He joined in the act of pretending all was well, but it didn’t settle her like he thought it might. As the night went on, she perhaps got even more tense than she was when she had arrived. 
He watched her as she sat, decidedly uncomfortable in her attire. Her posture was not nearly as good as it normally was. Even when she is half asleep, she sits straight as an arrow, as if a string had been pulled through the entirety of her spine and was holding her up. Her shoulders were always back. It was so natural for her, that normally he would have thought a slumped and curved position was not possible.
Looking at her now, the best way he could describe her stature would be curled. She was curled in on herself. As though she was hiding, or protecting herself from something. It almost appeared that she was trying to shrink in on her already small form. 
“Are you ready to talk about it now, or should I wait a little longer and make you a cup of tea?” Professor Jones tries his best to make his voice light and teasing, but the smile he has that often makes her grin back doesn’t even cause a twitch of her lips. Strange. She barely even glanced at him.
“Talk about what?” She just opens the file in front of her and starts to flip through it. She was clearly going to try and sweep it under the rug. He decided to let it go for now, hoping the work will distract them both enough to get back to normal. That is, until she shifts slightly and her skirt rides up her leg. Even through her stockings, he can see the bruise blossoming. Her knee was also partially skinned, the dried red that would become slightly scared was evident.
“Alright, I’m sorry,” he closed his book and tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed for the moment. “I was going to let it go, but now I can’t. What actually happened? And don't give me the ‘I tripped’ story again. You don’t get bruises on your lower thigh from tripping on a doorstep.”
Her face froze, and she shifted her skirt down to cover her knees again. It was too late to make up another story on the spot, not one convincing enough anyway. The best one she had come up with was the one he’d seen through the entire time. She sighed out and dropped her eyes to her hands. Her pride kept her from admitting what happened, because in her mind, nothing was more embarrassing than being treated the way she was for such unjustifiable reasons. She trusted her Professor, and he made her feel safe, but this was different. It concerned him. 
Neither one of them had spoken about the circulating rumors, just let them hang in the air and ignored the stares from people as they walked by. Confronting the gossip meant that things might change, and she didn’t want them to. She was perfectly fine with the after school arrangement, the late nights that were ever so productive. 
“There were two boys in the hallway that blocked me from getting to class,” she began, still looking down, and missing as his fist clenched against his palm. He knew those boys were up to no good, he’d been able to tell just by the way they walked in. “They shoved me into a corner and tried to get me to admit to… something. I denied it and they got upset, so they grabbed me by my pockets and tossed me to the ground. My trousers had gotten completely torn, and my leg was scuffed up, too.”
She rushed out the last of the words, and had to slowly even her breath so she wouldn’t cry. She’d cried her entire walk home, and decided after she changed that she wouldn’t cry over it again. It wasn’t like her to be so offended, but the things they said hurt more than the bruises and scrapes. She’d try and avoid telling him if she could, but of course, his curiosities were ever present. 
“What did they try to get you to admit? You haven’t killed anyone, have you?” He said, his humor entering the scene even in this moment which was serious. She huffed a small laugh, feeling a bit better as she prepared herself for this next step. She needed to choose her words carefully, because what she said now would determine how things would go for the next several months. 
“Professor, I think you may have been hearing rumors at school lately, ones concerning you and I,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction and eventually receiving a nod from him. Of course he’d heard the rumors, everyone had. She was surprised that the entire University faculty and staff hadn’t heard by now. “My classmates are convinced that because of such things that I am receiving special treatment.”
“You are receiving special treatment,” he reasoned, but she shook her head, and he gestured for her to continue. 
“Not for doing the things they think I am,” she let out, the first tear escaping her eye, marking out a path on her cheek and dropping down to bleed a small stain onto her shirt. After that, more started following, and she couldn’t hold the choked sounds out of her voice any longer, either. “I have been called a lot of things in my life, most I can take, but for boys who claim to be gentlemen to corner me in a hallway and accuse me of prostituting myself for grades before throwing me down and calling me a whore is probably one of the worst feelings I’ve ever felt in my life.”
She instinctively did what she’d always done as a child. She sought comfort from outer warmth, from being touched. She wrapped her arms around herself and brought her knees to her chest, laying her chin atop her arms and closing her eyes tightly. She hated that she was breaking down here, in one of the only places she could seek comfort in, but thinking back to her horrible experience, and thinking that there could be plenty more ahead waiting for her was suffocating. She couldn’t help how pathetic she looked or sounded, though she’d like to bet she’ll regret it later. 
She heard shifting in the room, and felt a dip in the couch beside her. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, using the other to take his glasses off and set them on the table. She had seen him without them before, as he usually discarded them when he grew tired, but she’d never been so close up to really see what he looked like without them. He looked younger, boyishly handsome. 
“I’m sorry,” he was so soft spoken, and his eyes held so much compassion. He was a man in this field. He’d never had to deal with anything of this sort in his life, so he could never understand how devastating it must be to commit yourself to your studies and be treated like there was some ulterior motive, simply because of gender. He would never know how it feels to be called such things or be bullied over stupid jealousies. “I’ll make sure they get what they’re owed, alright?”
Immediately she turned to him with wide teary eyes, shaking her head rapidly. “No, please. If you involve yourself, It will only look worse.”
“I can’t just let it go. This is far more serious than you seem to be grasping-"
"Professor, I understand perfectly fine!"
"No, Scarlet, you clearly don't. What they did was wrong, no matter what reason they had," he pushes past the fact that he just called her by her first name. In every closeness they had by now achieved, that had been a line which wasn’t crossed until this moment.
His assertive tone made her straighten up her spine, and she forced onto her face a look of indifference. She knew he was only trying to help, but she would not let this get out of hand. She already earned a bad reputation on account of nothing but good natured studying and commitment to her field, and she would at some point have to draw the line as to where she stood in all of this. 
“Professor Jones, I must insist that you do not say anything to the young men in your class. As much as I appreciate your willingness to help my case, I think it would be a bad idea to let you defend me, now.”
He seemed peeved, but not completely annoyed. Curious as he was to her reasoning, he felt it ridiculous to neglect his attempts. Why would she push away someone who was trying to help her? 
“And why is that?” 
She had to take a deep inhale in order to look him in the eye when she spoke her next words. 
“Because they expect you to,” she was trying to convey the unspoken words to him as appropriately as possible, but of course, Henry was never as lady-like.  
“Because they think we’re sleeping together.”
Well, bingo. He’d hit it right on the nose, and she had to duck her head to hide her flushed cheeks from his stone gaze. “Yes, that would be why.”
He sat back in his seat, looking at other objects in the room, and hoping they would help him to think about a solution. He couldn’t help but feel like this was a rather out of his hands situation. The students of his class had made up their minds about her, but maybe he could change that. Perhaps, he could expose the boys for their actions without calling on them directly. 
“But we aren’t sleeping together.”
“No. We are not.” She tries hard to keep her voice level, though he can hear the slight catch in it. She’s still trying to hold back tears.
Henry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he starts, “it’s one thing to be accused of something you aren’t doing when it’s only rumors. They crossed a line when they approached you physically, and there has to be a way to address it.”
Again, she looked scared, or at least rather uncomfortable with his suggestion. He hadn’t been finished though, and held up his hand to allow room to continue. 
“I have a friend in the office who owes me a favor. He might be able to address them without anyone else knowing about it, or that you ever told me anything.”
This, she decided, was a solution worth trying for. Her subtle nod made him quirk a small smile from the corner of his mouth. He nodded once too, and squeezed her shoulder as he leaned further back into the couch. She had begun relaxing immediately after that, and he felt he’d done something right in all this. 
She was only to be his student, but he could not deny he wanted to protect her from such things as these. He’s not always the kindest hearted person in the world, but he felt that perhaps he may have done the same for another girl in his class, as it was simply the right thing to do. He wasn’t so sure, though, that he would be so gentle and tender around her like he was now with Scarlett. He tread so delicately, because God help him, he cared so much about how she reacted to things. His attachment to what was only supposed to be his student had far surpassed what should be considered normal.
Never before had he ever had a ‘teacher’s pet’ or a ‘professor’s lackey’, but it was plain as day to anyone, now. Scarlett Ledger was his favorite student.
“Thank you,” she started smiling at him, now knowing that her reputation would not be further damaged, and her assaulters would receive punishment. There was also another reason. “For helping me.”
“It’s no problem. What they did is not acceptable from anyone in my class, their actions will have consequences.” 
They settled it there, and continued on with the work being done. Papers littered the floor an hour later as they worked, and though the hour was late, there was still so much to be done before the expedition took place. The question of her going still hung in the balance, and she had hoped that with all the work and time she had devoted, and perhaps a bit of Henry’s guilt from this situation being caused, he would allow her to join him. 
He had been sat on the floor by now, handing papers and notes he’d written down to her where she sat on the couch, but as he went over some journal entries of the dear friend of his that handed this adventure over to him, he neglected to realize that the soft shuffle of papers behind him, along with the quiet sound of a pencil moving had ceased. When he finished with the journal entry, he had marked the lines he had wanted her to see and was about to hand it over… but when he turned around, Scarlett had fallen into a restful sleep. Her head laid on the arm of the couch, and her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm without a blanket. 
He knew that in the groove he fell into that he wouldn’t be able to sleep for several more hours, but he didn’t want to just leave her on the couch in his office as he ruffled about his work when there was a perfectly comfortable and warm bed in his spare room. Normally, he would wake her, have her walk to the room herself and ready for the night… but she had gone through a hard day, and this was the first time since this morning that he had truly seen her relaxed. It would be just cruel to make her leave her state of slumber when he was very capable of just transporting her himself. 
He sighed and stood up, careful when he lifted her from the couch, and trying his best not to crash into anything or trip over the items on the floor when he moved between rooms. Thankfully, he made it safely into the spare room with little to no obstacles, and set her on the bed as gently as he could. He rid her of the shoes she wore before tucking her in beneath the sheets and duvet that used to remain untouched until her nighttime stays. She turned her head on the pillow, her brow furrowing a small bit when she faced him. He hoped she hadn’t woken up, otherwise he just spent meticulous time in carrying her all for nothing. She took in a deep breath before releasing it, and her face returned to normal. Her expression was bliss, and he found himself staring for longer than he would care to admit. 
Standing here, a thought entered and left his mind in a fleeting manner. It simply came, and went… but caused him to think more. The thought in question? She’s so beautiful. It would bury him, that thought. He begged his mind to never think it again, but on that tangent, a whole new slew of thoughts along those lines began to pile in his head like dug up dirt.
He needed to leave the room, that would help. 
“You’re gonna get me in some real trouble, kid.”
He walked out and back to his office, continuing to study his work, but finding that he retained no information on the account of his racing thoughts yet again. He sat back and raked a hand through his hair and down over his face before leaning forward to try and perhaps balance out all these intrusive thoughts with things he found annoying. He started with just a few things he often found to be peeving or invasive: She nags at him about the temperature he keeps his home, finding it too difficult to focus if she’s cold. She is constantly telling him how bad his handwriting is, hoping he will make an effort to write more legibly for her own sake. She reorganizes his work often, and it bothers him that he can’t find anything afterwards without her help. She raided his kitchen the first day she arrived, and mocked his eating habits while doing so… but in all fairness, she did make dinner and stop the work to allow time to eat. She had also been the one to help him arrange lessons when he was falling behind from other work. She was there to talk with him when he’d been stressed about the day from the events that occured. She was-
It was right then that he realized how truly and downright domestic their relationship had become. It washed over him in the most uncomfortable way, and clung to him like wet clothes on your back. He tossed the paper in his other hand to the floor and tried his best to make sense of any of it… but whenever he thought he was getting close to an answer it returned to bite him in the ass through a new slew of questions. 
This type of thinking was dangerous. They had crossed so many lines that should never have been crossed without even realizing. He hadn’t wanted to believe there would ever be any weight to the rumors at the University, but sitting here alone in this room, having just tucked Scarlett into bed one room over, he suddenly felt completely and totally wrecked.
-
Tags:
@justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster @silverose365
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nofomogirl · 1 year
Text
Metatron's manipulation step by step
Part 2: learning from past mistakes
Part 1 - where I discuss the significance of the coffee.
I believe that to fully understand what exactly is going on in the final episode, we need to go back a little and have a closer look at Metatron's role in season 1.
He appeared near the end of episode 4 when Aziraphale decided to try and talk directly with God but got Her Voice instead.
What lead to that moment?
At the end of episode 2, Aziraphale learned who and where the Antichrist was and it was the first piece of real information he got that could actually make a difference. He needed to make a choice about what to do with it and it pretty much paralysed him.
First, immediately after finding out, he got a call from Crowley asking for updates and lied claiming he didn't know anything. Then he arranged the meeting with the Archangels but withheld most of the information and when asked directly where the Antichrist might be he lied again that he wasn't sure. Then he met Crowley face to face, once more lied (by omission) about the Antichrist, insisted he wouldn't tell him anyway, and eventually broke up with him. The next day he approached Gabriel and tried to reason with him by mentioning "human prophecies" but not the Antichrist. Then Crowley approached him again and was rejected again. And finally, he got cornered and assaulted by Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon.
Frankly, I haven't even noticed it before, with all the other scenes in between, and all the emotions involved, but it's a very clear pattern, isn't it? Crowley - Heaven - Crowley - Heaven - Crowley - Heaven. Nothing could illustrate better how Aziraphale was swinging between the two. Eventually, Heaven won, but it was a very precarious win.
That's when the conversation with Metatron happened.
And tipped the scales in Crowley's favor.
Immediately after the conversation was over, Aziraphale grabbed the phone, called Crowley, and without any preambles announced he knew where the Antichrist was.
Things got complicated after this but that's beside the point.
The point is that Metatron's cold and uncaring attitude made Aziraphale realize that Heaven won't help him and won't help the Earth. It was a reality check, a cold shower, a wake-up call. It was what ultimately triggered Aziraphale's rebellion and indirectly made it possible for Armageddon to be stopped.
Back then it seemed Metatron was simply like other angels - indifferent and ignorant. But now, after season 2, we know he's actually much smarter than the rest of them. Which means that he was so openly dismissive of Earth and humanity, and so inconsiderate of Aziraphale's feelings not because he didn't understand them but because he didn't think they might matter. He expected Aziraphale to stay in line and obey, regardless of his personal opinions.
Imagine what would have happened if he didn't. If he was aware that Aziraphale was capable of defying orders and choosing what he will and won't protect.
If only Metatron told Aziraphale he was onto something, and asked him to come to Heaven to explain everything in detail, Earth wouldn't stand a chance. Honestly, Armageddon was mere hours away. All he needed was to stall a bit.
In season 1 Metatron grossly underestimated Aziraphale. It's very likely that he understands it and is determined not to repeat this mistake again.
Continued in Part 3: The Entrance
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