#just saying that it wasn’t a success for a reason lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inuyashaluver · 10 months ago

Note

just read your newest alexia fic and it was fantastic!! please write more for her (ideally rivals x lovers but I don't really care what trope because both your alexia fics are fantastic so I'm sure I will be happy with any alexia fic you write!)

past reminders - alexia putellas

alexia putellas x reader

description: in which you and alexia rekindle a old flame you both thought was completely destroyed

warnings: angst but happy! mentions of past situationships, heartbreak, swearing, spanish in bold italics! suggestive content, long - BUCKLE IN

a/n: i’ve been itching to write this lmao, thank you so much, my love!! i’m a sucker for enemies to lovers no word of a lie, please enjoyyyyy xx❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if someone was to describe the relationship between you and alexia, it was simply pure hatred.

to put it quite simply, you fucking despised each other, and you both thought it was for good reason.

—

even though yours and alexia’s pit of hatred ran deep, it wasn’t always like this. you and alexia were originally best friends, going back to years and years of friendship ever since the both of you were 7.

the two of you were inseparable, playing football together, going to school together, spending each and every afternoon together. it was the best, you truly had so much love for each other, twin flames that couldn’t be put out.

as the years went on, you and alexia grew older. and as the two of you grew together, so did affection bubbling under the surface. you and alexia had feelings for each other and never said anything of it.

well until one day at 19, you and alexia were hanging out at her house after training for barcelona, both of you getting signed at the same time after your booming success in the spanish teams.

you and alexia were side by side on her bed, the both of you giggly as you chatted and debriefed, even though you saw each other at every moment.

you weren’t exactly sure how the conversation started but alexia brought up that she hasn’t slept with anyone yet. your eyes were so wide at the conversation and her forwardness, not really comprehending what was going on out of pure shock.

you both knew you hadn’t your first times yet and alexia proposed something that took your breath away.

“if we sleep together for our first time, it’ll be good practice for later” alexia said like it was nothing, turning her head to look over at you. your cheeks were bright red, refusing to look her in the eye,

“ale” you breathe out nervously, “it’ll just be one time, friendly sex, nothing more” her body moved to perch up on her elbow, looking at you expectantly, “i trust you the most”

you glance over at her and harshly swallow the lump in your throat, alexia’s eyes drifted to where your neck had movement and smirked gently.

“one time?” you say so softly, alexia almost couldn’t hear it, she chuckles with a nod, her finger lightly tracing along your arm, smirking when goosebumps trailed on your skin.

“mhm, nena (babe), one time” she grabs your hand gently, her smirk only growing when you nod slowly “okay”, she kisses the corner of your mouth,

“mamá and alba aren’t home tonight” she whispered, reading your mind before her hand slipped up your shirt.

“don’t be nervous, it’s just me” she smiles softly, your breath hitched when she presses her lips to yours, moving together messily before her tongue licked into your mouth, a groan escaping the back of her throat when your hands carded through her hair and gently tugged.

—

and to put it simply, it wasn’t a one time thing. it was regular. very regular. almost every night. especially when she moved out of her mother’s house and had her own apartment.

alexia refused to put a label on anything. you were her best friend and nothing more, it was casual, platonic sex in her mind. and unfortunately for you, your heart yearned for her. you loved her, how could you not?

your heart would lurch at how kind she was after sleeping with you, kissing you affectionately and always cleaning you up afterwards with utmost care and diligence.

“so beautiful” she’d whisper, pressing gentle kisses along the length of your nose before pecking your lips multiple times.

alexia would send you suggestive smirks when she saw you at training, her eyes lingering as you changed and making sure to wink at you whenever you’d watch her change.

she would touch you more than necessary yet no one caught on. her hands would linger on your hips or waist as she moved passed you, giving you subtle kisses when you’d get a goal or just played well.

alexia was a very affectionate person, so everyone just thought the two of you were doing your regular best friend routine, unaware that alexia would drag you to her apartment almost every night to leave you breathless, marked up and shaky at the knees.

she was still your best friend of course, she just saw it as an added bonus. but for you, you wanted to call her yours, for you to be hers but the catalan didn’t want that.

she’d tell you almost every moment she could, “you’re my best friend” a chip in your heart that only grew bigger as the years progressed.

this went on for years, almost 5 consecutively and it was shocking no one caught on. she didn’t just sleep with you, she slept with other girls and you knew that but she’d always come back to you.

“they’re not you, they don’t know me like you” she’d tell you like clockwork, always making your heart a little fuzzy when you knew it shouldn’t.

it was torcherous for you, you tried to stop giving into her every time, but she’d give you those puppy dog eyes as she interlaced your hands together and you were done for.

and funnily enough, everything came to a stop when alexia got a girlfriend. when alexia got a girlfriend, she threw you away at the expense of her girlfriend’s words, “why do you need a best friend when you have me?” and because alexia ‘loved’ this girl, she dropped you.

she never returned your calls, she only talked to you at training when it was necessary. she wanted nothing to do with you. it killed her and you.

the once happy, bubbly duo went through an extremely dark stage at this point. you filling the void with random girls from team bonding nights at clubs and always regretting it later.

and whenever you would, alexia would fucking rip you apart over it. even after weeks of not talking.

“you look a little desperate, no?” she spat out as she walked up next to you at the bar. “fuck off” you glare at her, about to move away before she grabbed your wrist and pulled you back,

“it’s pathetic” she stares down at you, you roll your eyes in response. alexia could be with other people but god forbid you did.

“you’re pathetic, you can be with someone and i can’t?” you laugh humorously, alexia’s gaze growing colder by the second, a contrast from the warm alexia you loved so much.

“i have a girlfriend, i'm not throwing myself at anyone” another chip at your heart. from then on, alexia was truly nothing to you. you pushed her away harshly, promising that she wouldn’t have to see you anymore.

you left in a rush that night, making an effort to text your manager that you wanted to transfer in the upcoming window. so when the contract for madrid came along, you accepted.

—

you didn’t mind madrid, it was good for you. you were away from alexia and were actually strengthening your playing style and making some friends. and for you, a bonus was how mad it made alexia.

whenever madrid and barcelona would verse each other, people would definitely notice how much you and alexia hated each other.

the filthy looks said it all and not to mention the harsh words and dangerous tackles that would be made by the both of you.

when your spanish teammates would come over to you with bright smiles and warm hugs, you loved to watch alexia’s pissed off expression.

she’d get pissed when you wouldn’t even hug her as congratulations, you would shake her hand dismissively and take yours back like hers was made of fire. and yeah, maybe you were being a little childish, but she was too.

“you won’t die if you touch me, you know? but it’s fine when you fucking push me to the ground everytime i get the ball” she’d grit out, only make you grin in satisfaction,

“poor alexia, tell your girlfriend to kiss you better” you pout sarcastically, making an effort to bump her shoulder with yours as you walked past. you knew alexia was currently single, but you knew she hated when you brought up the girl. so you did it frequently.

you’d both get worried expressions from teammates after each time you interacted with each other, gaining a dismissive wave from both of you.

no one knew what happened, and you wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, and neither would alexia.

so everyone had to deal with the two of you being insufferable whenever in the same vicinity.

—

during camp for spain, you’d both give each other hell. it didn’t matter if you were on the same team, the arguing actually got worse.

“your passes are sloppy” alexia would say when you touched the ball, making you roll your eyes with a groan.

“okay, la reina (the queen), sorry we’re not all perfect” you narrow your eyes at her, making a show of kicking the ball harshly to her, hitting her shin as you sent her a sticking sweet smile.

she hated that that nickname when it fell from your mouth, wanting to just wipe that fucking smile off your face.

“don’t be jealous” alexia says smugly, you scoff at that, crossing your arms over your chest, “i would never be jealous of you” you look her up and down, the two of you approaching each other slowly as the argument heightened.

“oh really? isn’t that why you moved to madrid, couldn’t handle that i was better?” she’s up close to you now, your chests mere centimetres away from each other.

you breathe heavily as you look up at her, “yeah, i did move to madrid to get away from you” you argue, making her chuckle condescendingly, “good to see you have no loyalty” she darts her eyes between yours, trying to rile you up and it was certainly working.

“you want to talk about loyalty? remember you dropped me all those years ago?” you laugh in disbelief, body tingling with how close alexia was to you, a vast contrast to what you would do in the past at this proximity.

“i had my reasons” she says warningly, not wanting to get into this subject in the middle of training. “yeah, don’t worry i remember the texts, ‘i can’t be around you anymore, sorry’” you mock her,

“all because of that fucking girlfriend of yours, you dropped years of friendship with me” you send her an icy glare, one she was quick to return, “again with the jealousy” she mocks, you’re quick to give her a shove, “fuck off, putellas” you grit, alexia comes right back, her eyes boring into yours.

“you’re a child” she challenged, “excuse me?” you bite back, “you’re. a. child.” she breaks down each word intentionally, making sure it lingered in your ears. you’re both heavy breathing at this point, faces dangerously close to each other.

“i’m the child? you’re the fucking child, alexia!” you exclaim, now mapi and jenni coming over to separate the two of you.

“you’re both children, enough” jenni warns, pushing alexia by the chest away from you as mapi held you back.

“best friends for years and now you can’t even talk to each other like adults” mapi scolds, you and alexia sending each other glares and mouthing insults at each other.

“she knows what she did” you spat out, letting ona drag you away. alexia watched as you left, sighing heavily when her mind raced with all those good times you had. she missed you, dearly. she was just terrible at showing it.

—

it was childish for the both of you, but alexia had broken your heart so many times, you felt like you were just protecting your peace.

alexia did feel bad for the way she dropped you, she did love you, truly as much as you did with her. but she couldn’t bring herself to put a label on things with you just out of pure fear.

at first, she didn’t want to lose you, alexia wanted to shield you from everything bad in the world and tell you everything was going to be okay with a kiss.

but alexia thought she fell in love with her ex girlfriend and listened to her, even when she had feelings for you.

she didn’t know how harsh the consequences would be. losing you completely tore out a piece of her soul.

—

it was during a random match between madrid and barcelona in 2020 where things took a shift, just before off-season. the score was neck and neck, a typical harsh match between the rivals.

you and alexia still ‘hated’ each other but were much more tame about it, just choosing to ignore each other rather than outwardly argue.

you were on the ball when a defender from barcelona came up from behind you out of no where, making you attempt to dodge around her until a sharp pain shot up your knee. a pop.

you went down with a piercing scream, the sold out stadium going quiet at you clutching your knee in pain. and funnily enough, the first person to you was alexia.

“move away from her” she spat out, her hand coming to the back of your head and placing it on her thigh. you weren’t even comprehending who it was at this point, just enveloped by the comforting scent that once gave you a sense of home.

“you’re okay” she breathes out, cradling your head to her stomach as you cried out, “ale, my knee” you choked out, alexia hushes you, her thumb brushing your cheek as she held you close, waiting for the medics to come arrive.

once they were assessing you, alexia was about to move but you clutched her hand, “no-” you start, “just, stay for a second” you look up at her pleadingly, she nods, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze.

once you got told the dreaded three letters, your tears started again, rolling down your cheeks as you held onto alexia. she welcomed the contact like a second nature, both of you gaining a sense of security you hadn’t had in years.

“breathe” she says softly as you get situated on a stretcher, “you’re okay, i promise” she says while looking right into your eyes.

you feel like you’re 19 again, absolutely head over heels for this girl, some of those old feelings lingering in the pit of your stomach.

you get carried off and barcelona wins the match, alexia comes to find you without a second thought. she takes a deep breath before you she knocks on the door of the physio room, hearing a sniffle and a soft “come in”.

“hey” she swallows, hovering near the door as she saw you with your knee braced and iced. “you can come inside” you chuckle, alexia stiffens but walks in, sitting in a chair next to you as you stare up at the ceiling.

“i have surgery in two days” you blurt out, alexia never takes her eyes off you, watching as some tears still roll down your cheeks. “who’s taking you?” she questions softly, you let out a deep sigh.

“i haven’t gotten that far yet, my knee just popped” you tease, making alexia smile softly. the both of you never thought you’d be this civil after all this time.

“i’ll take you” alexia said simply, your head snaps to where she was, “i can’t ask you to do that” you stumble out,

“you’re not, i’m offering” alexia shrugs, “then i can’t accept your offer” alexia huffs in annoyance, “fine, it’s not an offer, it’s happening” alexia says sternly, you knew there was nothing to argue about.

there was no way you could go all the way to madrid in your condition, staying in barcelona for surgery was just a no brainer at this point.

“are you sure?” you say hesitantly, “positive” she says earnestly, smiling at you gently while you returned an appreciative one.

alexia forced you to stay at her house, getting your stuff from the hotel and setting you up in her guest room. it was a little awkward, not really knowing how to converse with a girl you’ve known for years of your life yet was your borderline enemy for years as well.

though with a little help of your injured knee, alexia and you managed to chip away at that awkwardness.

when you woke up extra sleepy from surgery, alexia gave you a comforting smile as you came to your senses, only leaving the hospital room if it was completely necessary.

“how are you feeling?” alexia said softly as she adjusted the pillow behind your head, fussing with the blankets until you swatted her hand away with a soft laugh.

“i’m fine, calm down” alexia drops the blanket with a sheepish grin and sat down on the chair next to you,

“ale?” you breathe out, she hums as she looked up at you, “thank you” you look over at her, her eyes are a little glossy but you chose to dismiss it.

“you don’t have to thank me, you’d do it for me” she smiles, you nod slowly, it was true, no matter how much you thought you disliked her throughout the years, you would help her in a heartbeat. no matter the time or place.

suddenly you start laughing and alexia gives you a questioning smile, “sorry i just,” you start, turning your head to look at her properly, “i didn’t think this would be happening after all these years” alexia nods along with your words with a little chuckle,

“i’m surprised you haven’t bitten my head off yet” she teases, “never say never, putellas” you warn teasingly, both of you laughing together in a little moment of solitude.

—

alexia was incredibly patient with you when you got discharged from the hospital, walking beside you with your crutches at your pace while sending you encouraging words and smiles.

“take your time” she says as she hovers next to you, ready to catch you if you fell. she helped you into the car and literally carried you into her apartment despite your protests to save time, wanting you to rest on the couch as soon as possible.

she was grateful about the time off, she doesn’t think she’d be able to train or play without you clouding her mind. she finally felt like she got you back, even if it was just a tiny piece.

she elevated your knee and tucked you in with warm blankets, making you a tea and sitting next to you as she encouraged you to put on something to watch.

her heart warmed when you put an old childhood favourite of both of you. a wave of nostalgia hitting you both. she kept glancing at you every couple of seconds,

you both laughed with each other at the movie, subconsciously quoting some parts of it with each other and recounting old memories. suddenly a wave of sadness hits alexia because she realised how much she’d lost.

when you realised she stopped laughing along with you, you glance at her nervously and give her a worried expression.

“are you okay?” you say softly, alexia shakes her head, tears pricking at her eyes seeing your soft features, you gesture to her to come closer and she sits on the couch facing you, the tears rolling down her face as she sniffled.

“ale, what’s wrong?” you place a hand on her thigh and she flinches, you pull it away slightly but she holds onto it instead.

“i’m so sorry” she chokes out, looking at you tearfully, you can feel your heart break a little at how she was crying, your eyebrows furrow in concern,

“what-” you start before she interrupts, “no, please let me speak” she sniffs, gripping into your hand tightly,

“i’m so stupid, there aren’t enough words to tell you how sorry i am for letting you go the way i did, you didn’t deserve that” she begins,

“i was clueless for listening to my ex, you were there for me through everything and i put you aside like you were nothing” she blubbered, each word clutching your heart.

your own tears begin to escape your tear ducts, “but you’re not nothing, you’re everything, you were my everything and i let you go when i wanted you, i’ve wanted you forever” she pronounced, looking right at you to make sure you heard everything she said.

“i love you, i always have” she expressed, your mouth hung open a little at the three words. silence settled over the two of you, hands still tightly interlaced.

“i love you too” you admit, alexia’s face lights up, only you shake your head for a moment, “alexia, you need to understand that you really hurt me, and i know i fucked up too, we both did” you start,

“if we were to give this another try, it needs to be slowly” you fiddle with the blanket on top of you, the two of you are still crying, still not believing this situation was real.

she agrees without hesitation, “i’ll do anything you want me to, hermosa (beautiful)” she breathes out.

her free hand moves to wipe a stray tear off your cheek, making you give her a wet laugh before you pulled her into an awkward positioned hug but you both didn’t mind, you’d both finally woken up to yourselves. you loved each other.

—

for the next few weeks, you and alexia grew closer and closer, finally falling back into that special relationship you had with each other.

it was going slow for about two days until the both of you broke under pressure and just gave into each other, acting more like a couple than you ever have.

“hi, bebé (baby)” alexia cheeses out when she sees you sitting on the couch, you crane your head back to look at her, giving her an affectionate smile that she was quick to return.

she presses a sweet kiss to your lips, a languid kiss that had you both sighing into each other's mouths.

she pulls away from you with an exaggerated peck to make you laugh, plopping down beside you and directing your head to her shoulder, you cuddle into her with a satisfied smile, her scent calming you down instantly.

—

it wasn’t a surprise that once you were fully recovered from your acl, you made your return to barcelona. once you made your comeback, you and alexia weren’t hiding anything anymore.

it felt good to claim each other as your partner, an endless amount of support sent your way.

you and alexia were quite literally joint at the hip once you finally moved in together, barely any time wasted when it came to the two of you, alexia claiming you needed to make up for ‘lost time’.

with the amount of devotion alexia gave to you, you forgave her, it took a while but you both wanted to move on from it, a fresh start for the both of you.

some of your teammates in the spanish team still found it hilarious when they found out why the two of you hated each other, still finding it a little baffling to see you so loved up at training.

—

“ale” you send her a half hearted glare as she sat in her cubby watching you get changed for a national game.

“yes, bebita (baby girl)” she grins at you smugly, you cross your arms over your chest, walking over to her and giving her a challenging expression. she grabs your hips and tugs you forward, making you sit sidewards on one of her thighs.

“not funny, where is it?” she chuckles at your mock anger, pressing tender kisses to the underside of your jaw,

“where is what?” she mumbles against your skin, you squirm slightly when she reaches your pulse point, slapping her hand that was now squeezing your thigh.

“my jersey” you groan, alexia lets out a little laugh, kissing your cheek repeatedly, “it’s right there” she points out, suddenly you stand up, grabbing her hand and making her stand in front of your cubby, looking at her expectantly.

“what does that say?” you point at the jersey hung up, “putellas?” she grins, “smart girl, who’s jersey is that?” you try not to laugh, “yours” she smiles wider, her hand dropping yours to wrap around your waist, making you stand in front of her as she continued to kiss your cheek softly.

“in case you forgot, that’s not my last name” you say amusingly, feeling her smiling against your skin as she gave you a gently squeeze.

“it will be soon” she grins, flipping you around so you could face her, “propose first” you say cheekily, patting her cheek with your hand. she turns her hand to kiss your palm, a silent promise that it was happening soon. (happened a week later)

“you’re no fun,” she pouts mockingly, reaching above you to retrieve the jersey that actually said your name on it, giving you a shit eating grin as she watched you get changed.

“children” mapi and jenni say at the same time, watching as alexia pulled you into another kiss that took all the breath out of your lungs.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily jenni x

liked by ona.batlle and 44,232 others

alexiaputellas: she thinks she’s the boss

view all comments

yourname: i am the boss

↳ alexiaputellas: it’s so cute how you think you are bebita (baby girl)

↳ yourname: i literally am?

↳ jennihermoso: oh she definitely is

↳ marialeonn16: 100% is

↳ alexiaputellas: a bunch of traitors

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

849 notes · View notes

spicerackofblorbos · 2 months ago

Text

Labyrinth | Vendetta Leon Kennedy x gn!Reader

☾ summary ➼ Leon comes home after an impromptu mission and 'finally' meets his neighbor, you.

☾ content/warnings ➼ alcohol, allusions to being an alcoholic, fluff, canon, non-descriptive reader (except you have a mom that cooks and have friends idk lmao)

☾ a/n ➼ hey I really think this song is Vendetta!Leon coded and I just think he needs a warm meal and a big hug. This takes place right after Vendetta, btw. And idk if he even has an apartment at this point since he was in a whole other country at the beginning of it but let's pretend! Proofread once!

☾ wc ➼ ~1k

It had been a few days since defeating Arias and saving New York from his zombification plan – barely. Leon Kennedy was sick of this shit, cleaning up after the disasters of others. There was a reason he was hiding out and drowning himself in bourbon and whiskey before Redfield sought him out.

Now, Leon finds himself practically crawling his way up his apartment complex stairs to his home and subsequently, hopefully, his bed. His body aches in too many places, but honestly he couldn’t care less. He needed a drink and a pillow to rest his throbbing head.

The moment Leon stepped into his spartan apartment, he leaned back against the front door and audibly groaned – half from frustration and the other from pain. His heavy boots thud against the cheap wood panel floors as he makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring himself his amber liquor of choice.

The dark haired man barely even sat down, didn’t even take a sip yet, before a knock on his door made him jump. On instinct, he pulls the gun he had tucked in his pants out and aims it at the sound, as if there were an enemy right there.

Another knock, gentle and precise.

“One second.” Leon grumbles, setting his glass down on the coffee table, before pulling himself up from the chair with a strained grunt.

When he opens the door, his eyes are drawn instantly to a person standing right in front of him – you. With your warm smile, friendly eyes, and something held out to him.

He’s not even fazed. Exhaustion threatened to crush him, and he just wanted to lie down.

“Listen, I’m not interested in whatever you have to sell. I assure you, I have everything I need.” Leon say dryly, preparing to close the door in this stranger’s face.

“Even your wallet?”

The door stops moving as Leon halts before patting his hands along his jeans. The noticeable bulge that’s usually there in his back pocket is gone.

“Shit.” He mutters. The door opens back up, and Leon sees your small frown and downturned brows.

“I found it on the stairs, figured you might need it.” You remark, handing it out to him again.

“…Thanks.” He grabs the wallet out of your hand, the action a little rougher than intended. That was kind of his thing though, wasn’t it? Being rough around the edges. “Have I seen you before?”

“Um. Yeah, I hope so. I’m your neighbor?” you point to the apartment door behind you with a thumb. Instead of a look of distaste or offense that he had expected, you give him a puzzled yet amused expression.

For the first time in a long time, Leon feels his face heat up in embarrassment. He clears his throat awkwardly as he stuffs his wallet into its designated pocket.

“Right… well. Thanks, neighbor.” He mumbles before turning to close the door again, but he does so gentler than before.

“Hey, do you want something to eat?”

His steps falter again, leather-clad back turned to face you as he processes what you just asked.

“It’s just… I kinda had plans to meet up with a few friends for a potluck dinner tonight and they ended up canceling so I have all this food and it’s too much for one person to eat alone.”

Leon was not in the business of believing in the success of relationships whether it be romantic or platonic. In his line of work, shit like that was dangerous. He used to be a slight flirt – but it’s not like he expected anything to come out of it. It was all a coping mechanism anyway, a way to ease tension that was wound up so tight in him that he thought he might suffocate on his own air.

In fact, he looked forward to the inevitable rejection of his initiations as if it were proof that relationships were a farce and being unlikeable was working out for him.

But to have someone initiate a conversation with him for once? For something completely non-work related, something so mundane as asking to share a meal. Were you expecting anything out of it?

“Depends, what is it?” he asks, turning around to face you again with the door half open. Leon’s dark fringe covers his eye and he shakes it back with callused fingers, only for it to fall back into his face. He really needed a hair cut.

A smile breaks out on your face, so warm and inviting. How had he never paid attention to you before?

“It’s nothing exciting. Chicken and dumplings. My mother’s recipe�� sorta. I changed it a lot, actually. She would kill me if she heard me say that. They just don’t know how to season things, you know?” you ramble on, fingers fidgeting with each other as you meet his gaze with more excitement than he’s used to seeing.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Leon finds the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Is that yes?”

A pause.

“Sure, I can eat.”

“Great! Uh… okay, so I didn’t think past giving your wallet back. Why don’t you come over and grab some now while it’s hot? And then when it cools, I’ll pack some up to take with you.”

“It’s fine, I can wait until-“

“Please, it’s so much better when it’s just been made. Trust me.” You wave your hand dismissively before turning on your heel to take the few steps needed to your apartment.

As you open your door invitingly to him, he takes a moment to look back into his sparse home, dark and in need of a good dusting. His eyes catch his glass of whiskey, waiting for him on the coffee table.

“Are you coming?”

He turns to face you, a small smile finally breaking through like much needed sunshine.

“Yeah.” He closes his door, the sight of his abandoned drink disappearing behind him.

☾ tagging ➼ @lucysarah-c @antagonize-me-motherfucker @ceruleanrainblues

☾ wanna be part of my tag list? click me!

☾ Leon masterlist!

#did yall catch the metaphors #of the new door opening and his old door closing?#hehe #anyway #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy vendetta #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil vendetta #sky.writes.re #Spotify

57 notes · View notes

weemssapphic · 2 years ago

Text

You Make Me Feel

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Summary: At 49 years old, Larissa Weems is the principal of Nevermore Academy - a successful career woman whose dominating energy demands respect from everyone she comes into contact with. She is also a virgin. What happens when she finally meets someone who wants to have sex (and so much more) with her?

Words: ~6.6 | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: virgin!Larissa, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, nsfw (sickeningly sweet smut) - cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: after reading Hot Chocolate on ao3, I couldn't get the idea of virgin Larissa out of my brain so... here we are lmao

Larissa didn’t really know how it happened - the years had simply passed her by in a blur. She was a studious teenager, scoffing at her horny, unfocused peers. It’s not that she never had the opportunity, per se - there were boys who asked her out, who tried to ‘seduce’ her in that awkward, teenage boy way. They all disgusted her - she would wait until college, she reasoned, where she could find someone more mature.

So she left Nevermore behind for her studies. Here, the men - if they could be called such - were just as crude, just as unappealing. The thought of being touched by any one of them filled her with disgust.

It wasn’t until her senior year of college, when she found herself smitten with one of her female professors, that she entertained the thought of being anything other than straight. It was a thought that had only crossed her mind once before, when she’d accidentally caught her roommate at Nevermore, Morticia Frump, getting undressed. She’d felt oddly… aroused at seeing the girl’s bare skin - and immediately pushed down those feelings. Larissa Weems was enough of a freak as it was - she didn’t need the label ‘lesbian’ stamped on her as well.

But at the age of 22, Larissa had to admit that it was strange she’d never wanted a boy to touch her. She’d gotten close once, during a heavy drunken make-out session with some boy at a freshman party - before freaking out completely and leaving the poor boy squirming uncomfortably at the edge of the lake. And so, at the age of 22, Larissa finally had to confront her very un-platonic feelings for women.

By the age of 49, she’d gone through all the stages of grief regarding her sexuality: she’d vehemently denied entertaining the very thought of being anything other than straight. She’d been angry, oh so angry - at herself, at the world, at Morticia, at the boy she’d kissed. She’d gone through all the what-ifs: what if she’d made a move on Morticia, what if she hadn’t been so uptight, what if her family had been more accepting. She’d even fallen into a bout of depression, realizing how sad and pitiful she was for being a lonely virgin who hated herself for something she couldn’t change.

She’d finally settled on acceptance. Larissa had accepted that she was a lesbian. But, through all those years, she’d been too busy hating herself and throwing herself into her work to entertain thoughts of actually dating. So now she was 49. And a virgin. And who would want to be with a 49 year old virgin?

Sometimes, Larissa could ignore those thoughts, push them down. Sex and dating aren’t everything, she’d reason. She didn’t need anyone else. She had a successful career that kept her busy enough, after all - it was her dream as a teenager, wasn’t it?

Some days, though - days like today - it was harder to drown out the lonely, self-pitying thoughts. Days where she had a one-on-one meeting with you, for example.

As one of the teachers at Nevermore, Larissa found you particularly alluring - everything about you seemed to draw her in, leave her wanting more. You carried yourself with such confidence, you challenged Larissa in ways that both delighted and aroused her. You were kind and chatty, interested in what Larissa had to say - she felt she could talk to you for hours.

And you looked so delicious. In her weakest moments, Larissa imagined how it would feel to have a woman’s hands on her body - and more often than not, it was your hands she pictured, your face that surfaced in her mind as she pleasured herself. She yearned to feel your lips on her own, your body pressed against hers. How delightful it would feel to finally, finally be touched, to finally feel desired.

Today was no different - when you knocked on her office door for the start of your quarterly review, Larissa had to take a moment to compose herself before calling out “come in.” Her breath hitched in her chest as you strode up to her desk, grinning widely and taking a seat across from her.

The review of your performance took no time at all - you were honestly one of her best teachers, well-liked by the staff and the students (even Wednesday Addams had yet to cause an issue in your class). With twenty minutes left of your scheduled meeting time, the two of you began to chat about various, non-school-related subjects. Larissa found herself relaxing more and more, and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself asking if you’d like to join her in her quarters at the end of the day for a glass of wine and a chat.

“Of course, Larissa.” You beamed, sounding eager - was it Larissa’s imagination, or had a faint blush crept up your cheeks?

After agreeing to come by at 7, you took your leave to prepare for your afternoon classes - Larissa walked you to the door, which she leant against as soon as it shut behind you. Oh God, what had possessed her? An entire evening in your presence would be torture for her…

The worst part, somehow, was the fact that she knew you liked women - you’d brought up an ex-girlfriend once, Larissa had been taking a sip of coffee at the time and had nearly begun to choke. It was entirely plausible that you could… Larissa quickly shook the thought from her head. Even if you returned her affections, surely you’d hightail it out of there the second you found out how little experience Larissa had.

~~~

The afternoon passed quickly and soon Larissa found herself nervously pacing the length of her office, smoothing her sweaty palms over her dress to remove non-existent wrinkles.

Your knock sounded for the second time that day, and Larissa jumped at the sound. With a deep breath, she slipped into the persona she’d begun to adopt when dealing with the Mayor and other important figures - authoritative, even slightly seductive. It was the only way she wouldn’t crack under her nerves.

“Hello, darling,” Larissa husked as she opened the door and stepped aside to allow you to enter.

“Hey!” You’d changed out of your clothes from earlier into a low-cut blouse and a short skirt. A pair of simple black heels added two inches to your height, a fact that Larissa couldn’t help but find incredibly alluring. In your hand you held a bottle of Chianti, which you offered to Larissa. “Didn’t wanna come empty-handed,” you added with a nervous giggle.

“Oh…” Larissa’s heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to.” She accepted the bottle with a grateful smile, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious.

“I know, I wanted to.” You grinned at her, finally stepping into the office and closing the door behind you. Larissa reached past you to click the lock - and immediately paled as you smirked at her.

“My, my, Principal Weems, trying to trap me here and get me drunk?” you teased. Larissa’s panic must have been evident on her face because you burst into laughter and placed a reassuring hand on her arm - her skin burned at the contact as if it had been branded.

“I-I just don’t want students bursting into my office after hours, I…” Larissa trailed off lamely, unable to focus when your hand was still on her arm. It was so warm, so soft… she found herself imagining that hand on other parts of her body, trailing along her skin…

“Relax, Larissa, it’s okay,” you said, your face softening. “Either way it’s fine by me.”

Either way? Larissa nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to regain her composure. You’d always been very friendly, borderline flirty even, but something about being alone with Larissa outside of school hours seemed to relax you even further.

Larissa took a deep breath. A bit of teasing she could do - she was no stranger to a healthy bit of flirting to get what she wanted. Granted, her heartbeat was a bit more erratic this time, as she was actually attracted to the person across from her. Regardless - a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt. It didn’t have to be more than that.

“Would you like to take this to my quarters?” Larissa purred, plastering a seductive smile on her face and nodding in the direction of a door at the back of her office.

“I would love that.”

Minutes later, you were settled on the couch in Larissa’s living room and she was pouring two generous glasses of wine. She kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable beside you - you followed suit, taking the liberty to scoot just a bit closer. Larissa noticed, quirking an eyebrow - you laughed in response.

“Sorry, too forward?” You were still smiling as you made to shimmy back a bit - Larissa found herself placing a hand on your thigh, stilling your movements.

“You may stay,” she replied airily, grateful you couldn’t pick up on the way her heart was thundering loudly against her ribcage, seconds away from bursting. You placed your hand atop Larissa’s and she took a sip of her wine to mask the blush that was spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Larissa could see you mirror her movements, bringing your glass up to your mouth and taking a sip, watching her intently over the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to stare?” Larissa murmured playfully, watching your cheeks go pink.

“No. They didn’t, actually,” you teased, before turning slightly more serious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… you’re really beautiful. Just want you to know that.”

Larissa felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and she turned to face you fully - you looked so cute, staring into your wine glass, cheeks pink… It had been so long since Larissa had been called beautiful - she was so careful not to put herself into situations where rejection could be the possible outcome. “Thank you.” You looked up and Larissa smiled.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know why you invited me here tonight. I was hoping… Well, I have to confess something, I want to be open with you.”

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she nodded slowly, suddenly becoming aware that her hand was still on your thigh.

“I’m interested in you, Larissa. Now maybe I’m interpreting this all wrong, and if so I’m very sorry - I promise I won’t let it affect our professional relationship. But maybe the feeling is mutual…?”

She could hardly believe her ears. Of course the feeling was mutual. Larissa felt warm and tingly all over, her heart pounding and her head reeling. All she’d ever wanted was suddenly in her grasp - it was now or never…

Larissa’s eyes flicked down to your lips. Something in her expression must have given her away, for you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers - Larissa was helpless to stop you. It was just as she imagined - better, even. Your lips were soft and warm against hers, gentle - a stark contrast to the boy she’d made out with in college.

You quickly deepened the kiss, licking at Larissa’s lips which she parted almost out of instinct, allowing you to explore her mouth. You tasted of red wine and the lipstick you were wearing - Larissa couldn’t help but let out a soft noise of pleasure as heat pooled in her core. She felt you take her wine glass out of her hand and briefly pull back to set the two glasses on the coffee table - then your lips descended upon hers once more, the kiss quickly gaining intensity.

A wanton groan escaped your throat as you pushed yourself into Larissa - it was a beautiful sound, and Larissa could feel her underwear growing damp. She squeezed her thighs together for some much-needed relief, an action which you immediately noticed.

“Where’s your bedroom?” you rasped against Larissa’s lips. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest - this was moving so fast. She wanted to protest but with the way you were looking at her, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide, cheeks flushed - she found she couldn’t summon up the courage to deny you, despite how her stomach began to burn with anxiety.

Instead, she stood and led you to her bedroom, allowing you to guide her backwards onto the mattress. She felt your fingers toy with the zipper of her dress and push it down to pool at her hips - then, suddenly, your lips were everywhere at once. You planted urgent, demanding kisses down her chest, her stomach - your hands caressed the bare skin of her waist.

These were the touches Larissa had yearned for for so long - your soft fingertips leaving marks on her waist as your warm breath caressed her skin, your lips and tongue and teeth peppering her body with kisses as evidence of your desire. But she wasn’t enjoying them. It was too much, too fast - she was overwhelmed with sensations. The throb between her legs no longer felt pleasant - it felt daunting, dirty even. What would happen when you’d fuck her and notice how skittish she was? What would happen when you’d expect to be pleasured in return and she would, inevitably, fail miserably?

As your lips moved up her body again, Larissa knew she needed to slow this down and confess, before her inexperience became evident and disappointed you. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience,” Larissa confessed quietly - the words sounded foreign to her ears. She could feel her nerves rising further as she wondered if you would hate her for it, leave immediately and never touch her again - she waited with baited breath to see what you would say.

“A woman like you? I find that hard to believe,” you murmured playfully, your voice low and sultry as you began to trail kisses all along Larissa’s jaw, as your fingers dug into her hips.

You weren’t getting it. Larissa felt, for the umpteenth time in her life, shame well up inside her, warming up her skin and pricking at her eyes. She felt her throat begin to close as panic overtook her body, and she tried to no avail to calm her racing heart with deep breaths as her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Larissa? Larissa?” Everything sounded like she was under water, your voice was so far away. Eventually, she recognized her name and turned to meet your gaze. You were no longer kissing her - you looked down at her in concern, brow furrowed, frowning as your lips sounded out her name.

Larissa took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt foolish for getting so worked up - surely you would think she was some sort of freak. 49 years old and unable to even so much as make out with a woman without having a panic attack.

“Larissa?”

“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her as it gave out, even on that one syllable.

“Where’d you go? What’s going on up there?”

Your fingers caressed her cheek in a soothing gesture and she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of your touch. She found herself craving it so, so badly, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it - not when it would surely be the last shred of affection she’d ever receive from you. She stared at the ceiling, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

“We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything. You know that right?” You shifted off of her, lying on your side to face her and propping yourself up on your elbow. When Larissa failed to meet your gaze, she felt your fingers grip her chin, urging her to face you. “We could just watch a movie or something?”

I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked. I want my body to let me have this.

Larissa nodded numbly.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa moved as if on autopilot, pulling her dress back up and sliding off the bed, guiding you wordlessly back into her small living room. She gestured to the couch and you took a seat.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“Just water, thanks.” You offered her a grateful smile, and Larissa winced - she was going to need something stronger than water to get through the evening now, but she didn’t want you to think she was an alcoholic either, so she nodded and padded to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water.

When she returned you were focused on the television, flicking through Netflix. You paused to take one of the glasses out of her hand, careful not to allow your fingers to brush against hers as you did so - Larissa swallowed nervously and averted her eyes, taking a seat next to you - close enough to feel your body heat, but not touching you.

“I feel like Netflix took all the good movies off,” you whined with a slight pout - if Larissa hadn’t been so in her own head, she might have chuckled, finding you quite endearing. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

Larissa felt herself shrug. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying your interactions leading up to now, internally berating herself for letting on that she wasn’t okay. If she’d only been able to play along better… it was something even teenagers did, for fuck’s sake - it shouldn’t be a big deal. If she could just get it over with, then maybe -

“Are you more of a romcom or action kinda gal? Ooh. Maybe you wanna watch a horror movie or something? What about-”

“I’m a virgin.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You hadn’t heard her. Larissa once again felt the sting of oncoming tears. “I’m a virgin,” she repeated, a bit louder, unable to stop her voice from rising in pitch, eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was deafening.

A warm hand was placed on her thigh - she whipped her head around to face you, confusion and insecurity marring her features.

Your own eyes shone with care - Larissa felt her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you earlier - I shouldn’t have moved so fast.” You looked almost ashamed, which confused Larissa further… What were you apologizing for? Clearly she was the one with the issues. She shook her head lightly, a bit dazed.

“No, I’m sorry…” Larissa hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat and fighting back tears. “I’ll walk you to the door, we can forget this ever happened.” As she stood, she felt your fingers gently encircle her wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Larissa. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Larissa scoffed, but she made no move to extricate herself from your grip. Not when your warm fingertips were the only thing that could bring her comfort.

“I’ll leave if you want me to… but I’d rather stay and make sure you’re alright - if that’s okay?”

A part of Larissa was screaming, begging, pleading with her to kick you out so she could do what she always did - drown herself in her own self-pity (and maybe half a bottle of wine) and cry. But when she glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, the adorable little crease between your brows that deepened at whatever you saw in Larissa’s own eyes, she nodded and sat back down.

“Is it… would you rather I not touch you right now?” you asked as you dropped Larissa’s wrist. There was a healthy distance between the two of you on the couch - it couldn’t have been more than a foot or two, but it felt like miles to Larissa, who felt the crushing weight of loneliness descending upon her again as you retracted your fingers.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she sounded. She felt the couch cushions shift next to her, and soon your warm thigh was pressed against hers - then your hand found her own, intertwining your fingers together. Your skin was so soft, your hand fit so perfectly within Larissa’s that it made her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of your small, feminine hand clasping her own. She wished her hands weren’t as clammy as they were, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away,” you said timidly. “I really like you and I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything. Fuck, I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I thought…” You trailed off, watching Larissa apprehensively.

“You really like me?” Larissa’s ears had perked up as you’d said it, she figured she must’ve misheard you. You smiled shyly then, and Larissa felt butterflies in her stomach. “Even… even now?”

You let out a low chuckle, giving Larissa’s hand a squeeze. “Even now? Is you being a virgin supposed to change my mind?”

“I’m 49…” Larissa whispered in anguish, her heart constricting in her chest as she realized she was admitting things to you now that she’d never told anyone.

“And? I mean I guess I’m curious why - it can’t be your looks or your personality, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re so easy to talk to… But it doesn’t bother me or anything.”

Larissa sighed, dropping her gaze to your intertwined hands. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “I was never attracted to men, so I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t realize I could be attracted to women until college and by the time I’d come to terms with that… let’s just say I’m certain no one would want to deflower someone in their 40s.”

“I would,” you said with a shrug, so nonchalantly that Larissa whipped her head around to face you. You chuckled at her bewildered expression. “Come on, Larissa. I don’t care about that. I like you as a person and I find you attractive. I want to have sex with you, if you also want to have sex with me. I don’t care how many other people you’ve been with - I really don’t care if the answer to that is zero.”

Larissa took a moment to mull over your words. They sounded almost too good to be true - she never thought she’d find someone who would be so calm, so gentle, so unfazed about the whole thing. And, well, that it just so happened to be the woman she had a crush on… she could feel herself nodding at your words.

“But we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I want to,” Larissa said firmly, if a little too quickly - it made you smirk, and her cheeks turned scarlet.

“We’ll go at your pace then.” You brought Larissa’s hand up to your lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. The soft brush of your lips made a rush of heat pool in Larissa’s abdomen. “Only what you’re comfortable with. And if you want to stop, we stop. I want you to have fun, Larissa. I want this to be good for you.”

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered. The smile she received in return was blinding, and her heart felt just a smidge lighter.

“Do you want me to leave for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head no. You snuggled into her side and picked up the abandoned remote again, flicking through a few more options before finally settling on Carol - Larissa felt herself slowly begin to relax as the film started.

A few minutes into the movie, Larissa felt your fingers begin to trace absent-minded patterns on her knee. She shivered at the touch - she could feel herself start to get worked up. She wondered if there was any way to salvage the evening - her attraction to you had only grown through your show of empathy, and maybe now that you knew her secret, her body could feel safe enough to let go.

Larissa turned towards you - your head was resting against her shoulder, it would be so easy to just lean in and-

You turned your head and met her gaze. “Now look who’s staring,” you teased. Larissa’s eyes were glued to your lips as you spoke. You were such a good kisser, you tasted so good. She leaned forward, focused on her goal - your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in as well. Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met and she let out a breathy moan. You didn’t deepen the kiss - you simply pressed your lips to hers, humming and gently cupping her face in your hands.

Larissa felt emboldened by your gentleness - she parted her lips slightly to lick at yours. You opened your mouth for her, allowing her to explore your mouth before gently flicking your tongue against hers. She felt a mad fluttering in her abdomen at the deepening of the kiss, a little whimper escaping her throat at all of the sensations once again flooding her body.

Pulling back once she’d run out of air, Larissa rested her forehead against yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingled with her own, her skin tingled with electricity.

“I want to try this again,” she whispered resolutely.

“Really?” You pulled back, your eyes flicking between hers. Your expression was a mixture of concern and excitement, and Larissa nodded.

You stood, extending a hand for Larissa to take and helping her up.

This time you climbed onto the bed first, settling against the pillows and waiting for Larissa. She followed suit, lying down next to you and pressing a hesitant kiss to your lips. She could feel the affection and tenderness with which you kissed her back and quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to rest on your waist and tugging you closer. You wound your arms around her and held her tightly - she felt safe in the minutes that you spent making out, heat slowly building within her.

Larissa froze as your fingers played with the zipper of her dress, her breath quickening. Noticing the change, you removed your hand and sat back on the balls of your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked - there was no judgment detectable in your voice, only sweetness and worry. “Yes, I am, I’m sorry.” Larissa took a deep breath, trying to relax again.

“What if I got undressed first?”

She considered for a moment - yes, perhaps that would make her feel less vulnerable. She nodded and you began to unbutton your blouse.

“May I?” she asked. You smiled and dropped your hands, shimmying a bit closer. She unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way, pupils dilating as it fell away from your front to reveal your lace-clad breasts. You slid the blouse from your arms and reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside - your breasts jiggled slightly as you did so, and Larissa felt her mouth go dry.

Shimmying your hips, you slid your skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, before doing the same with your underwear. There you sat, completely naked, thighs parted slightly to reveal the wetness that glistened between your legs. Larissa’s own pussy throbbed with desire at the sight - she felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria at the fact that you were so aroused, in spite of everything that had transpired that evening.

“All for you,” you purred seductively, smirking as you noticed Larissa’s eyes glued to your cunt. Larissa snapped her gaze up to meet yours and you leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as your fingers once again found her zipper and began to drag it down. She moved her body accordingly so you could slide the dress down her body - nodding as you cocked your head in question when the dress pooled at her hips. You slipped her out of the dress completely, then crawled up her body and settled next to her, toying with the clasp of her bra.

“You can take it off,” she whispered, almost amused at how fast you complied.

The hunger with which your eyes roved over her torso, drinking in the milky expanse of her soft stomach, the swell of her breasts, her pink nipples that slowly hardened at the chill in the air - it felt like a drug to Larissa. She’d never had anyone look at her like that - no one had ever seen her naked in such a context, and she felt her chest flush.

Part of her wanted to cross her arms over her chest, her anxiety rising at the unabashed attention - but then you lowered your mouth to her right nipple and gently soothed your tongue over the bud, and her brain short-circuited.

Arching her back off the bed, Larissa let out a strangled, breathy sound - your tongue on her nipple felt like velvet, divine and soothing, and it sent tingles down her spine. Then she felt you roll her other nipple between your fingers and groaned - it was a filthy sound, and her hand shot up immediately to cover her mouth.

Your tongue stilled and you looked up at her with a smile. “No, I want to hear you. That was a very pretty sound you made.” Larissa blushed, removing her hand from her mouth. Your tongue resumed its ministrations, slowly causing the small, pink bud to harden, and Larissa whimpered at the shocks of pleasure that originated behind her navel and rippled outwards in waves.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” you murmured, moving your mouth from one breast to the other, and Larissa nodded fervently.

“Please, keep going,” she breathed, a tightness coiling in her abdomen as your hand joined your tongue to knead at the soft flesh of her breast.

Once you’d showered each of her breasts in ample attention, your lips began trailing down her stomach - much gentler this time, much slower. Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how her body was reacting, how excited she seemed to be getting, as your lips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I take these off?” You toyed with the waistband of Larissa’s underwear - she paused for a moment, before finally nodding again.

Your fingers brushed against her skin as you tugged her underwear down her legs, then settled between them. With you suddenly this close to her pussy, Larissa began to worry whether she should have shaved. She felt her nerves rising again as she waited for you to tell her how disgusting you found her - then she felt your lips begin to press reverent kisses to the little curls, as if you could sense her anxiety and were trying to reassure her that it was okay.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you asked sweetly. Her eyes widened and her face suddenly felt hot - you were being so considerate, asking all these questions, making sure she was okay with everything, and Larissa wished you didn’t have to do that - she wished she could just be okay with whatever you wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry, this must be terribly tedious,” she mumbled, her voice dripping with insecurity that, in any other context, she simply did not possess - she hated herself for it right now, and she was unable to meet your gaze because of it. A light slap to her thigh shocked her into looking at you, however. You frowned up at her from between her legs. “Hey. Don’t say that. Making love to you isn’t a chore, Larissa. I want this. So bad. And I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. Understood?”

“Yes,” she replied, breathless at your display of dominance.

“Good girl.” Larissa let out an involuntary moan - she had never considered that she would enjoy being called a ‘good girl’, but she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed at your words. “So. Is it okay if I use my mouth? Or do you want to stop?”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop… you can use your mouth.”

You beamed up at her, before carefully hooking one of her legs over your shoulder - Larissa could feel herself being spread open at the action.

Soft lips began littering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. Larissa tried her best to stay still, not to squirm - but when your mouth finally met her cunt, your tongue slowly trailing up her slit, she couldn’t help but buck her hips into your face.

A soft groan left her lips when she felt your tongue flick against her clit - she was so sensitive, and the touch was so different than when she pleasured herself - it made every hair on her body stand on end. Your lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently and drawing little whimpers from Larissa’s throat as her back arched. She felt herself quickly getting lost in the sensation.

“Does this feel good?” you murmured, pulling back for a moment.

“Y-yes,” Larissa panted - her breathing was already beginning to get heavier.

“If anything doesn’t feel good, if you don’t like it, tell me, okay?”

Larissa hummed and you began licking at her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue and letting out a loud moan of delight. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” Larissa couldn’t help but blush again, but her embarrassment was forgotten the second your tongue circled her clit. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing.

She found herself unsure what to do with her hands - she briefly brought them to your head, then fisted at the sheets next to her. Then she felt something brush against them and opened her eyes to see your own hands blindly reaching out and grabbing for hers. She intertwined your fingers, her heart leaping in her chest as you gave her hands a squeeze.

The coil in Larissa’s stomach was tightening by the second. She felt herself growing more comfortable with every passing minute, allowing unfiltered moans to pass her lips, spurred on by the noises you were making - the breathy groans, the wet sound of your tongue lapping at her folds. When you gently circled her entrance, she couldn’t help but whine and buck her hips.

“C-can you go inside?” she asked quietly, rolling her hips against your face. You groaned in response, slowly pushing your tongue into her hole. Larissa’s walls fluttered against your tongue and she let out a guttural moan.

“Good girl,” you purred between thrusts of your tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, love.”

Larissa could feel herself getting closer, her thighs trembling - she tried to keep her legs open but the next thrust of your tongue caused her to snap them shut around your head.

Slowly she began to unravel, her release cresting like a wave as you alternated between teasing her hole and sucking her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost herself completely in the feeling of ecstasy overwhelming her body.

She felt your tongue soothe over her folds, then her thighs, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze, before gently extracting your fingers from her grip and crawling up her body. Larissa’s eyes were still closed when she felt your lips on her own. At your tongue’s insistence she parted her lips, whining at the taste of herself as you licked into her mouth.

When you pulled back and cupped her cheek, Larissa opened her eyes. She was almost shocked at the sheer amount of affection and adoration that swirled in your pupils as you searched her face - it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“How was it?”

Larissa hesitated - what was she supposed to say to that? It was everything I’ve ever wanted and more, because it was with you… She buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed, inhaling the scent of sweat and your sweet perfume on your skin.

“Really good, darling,” is what she settled for as she contentedly nuzzled her nose into your pulse point. She felt your arms wind around her and allowed herself to be held as her breathing slowed. A chaste kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she smiled against your skin.

You shifted next to her, wrapping your legs around hers, and Larissa could feel your slick rub against her thigh. Tentatively, Larissa allowed her hand to trail down your bare waist, over the swell of your hip. She could feel you shiver against her as her fingertips brushed against your mound.

Larissa reached between your thighs and pulled back to get a look at your face - you watched her intently, pupils blown, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Slowly, Larissa spread your folds with her fingers, gasping as she felt how wet you were. She gathered some of your juices on her fingertips and massaged them over your swollen clit, enraptured by the soft moan you let out, the way your eyes fluttered shut and your hips twitched seemingly of their own accord.

With your eyes closed, Larissa allowed herself to admire your beauty, the way you gave in to her touches. She touched you the way she normally touched herself, and it seemed to please you - your face was gorgeously flushed, the most obscene noises slipping from between your swollen lips. When you arched your back, Larissa’s eyes fell to your nipples, hardened with arousal. She lowered her mouth to your breast, flattening her tongue and soothing it over the pink bud, drawing a moan from your chest.

“Bite,” you murmured. Larissa paused, glancing up at your face - then felt your hands on the back of her head, pushing her into your chest. She licked your nipple once more, before grazing her teeth against it and gently biting.

“Fuck, just like that,” you mewled, and Larissa bit down again, the heat within her own body building at the string of obscenities dripping from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her hand as she continued to stroke your clit. She felt your fingers encircle her wrist, guiding her to your dripping hole. “Two fingers,” you instructed breathily.

Larissa complied, first pushing in one, then two fingers, inadvertently biting down on your nipple again as she felt your walls draw her fingers in. She curled her fingers, experimenting with the pace of her thrusts until she heard your breathing stutter.

“Shit, you’re so good at this,” you praised, your thighs beginning to shake and the rolling of your hips becoming more and more erratic. Your face contorted with pleasure as you rode Larissa’s fingers - she felt your cum drip down her hand as you tensed around her, then you sighed and relaxed into the mattress.

Larissa sat up, pulling her fingers out of your cunt - the needy mewl that left your lips caused a shiver to run down her spine. Your eyes met hers, full of affection and desire, and she felt emboldened - she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. It was intoxicating - she knew she could get addicted to that taste.

“C’mere,” you murmured, holding your arms open for Larissa. She settled into them, slinging an arm around your bare waist and tugging you closer. You pressed a kiss to her lips. “That-” kiss “felt-” kiss “incredible” kiss.

Larissa felt herself blushing at your compliment - she couldn’t have asked for a better experience for her first time. It might have come some twenty years later than she’d hoped for, but if it meant she could be here with you right now, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns on her back, your breath tickling her cheek - she’d wait those twenty years all over again.

“I’m glad it was you, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m glad, too,” you whispered back, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @willowshadenox @mysaviorfalsegod

Click here if you want to be added to my taglist!

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #principal weems #principal weems x reader #larissa x reader

836 notes · View notes

centuryberry · 4 months ago

Text

Flourish AU

Me, looking back at the Replanted AU after posting the recent Unpaid Babysitting update: Yishan needed better parents. Also, I wish I could incorporate Shanzha and RinRin into the Sundown Era AU without more dimension shenanigans.

Me:

Me: Wait -

And so, this AU came to be. Say hello to Iceflower's Son!Yishan, everyone. He's here to bring Shanzha and RinRin into the Sundown Era AU, grow up better than he could've been, create a myth or two, and - most importantly - father Yue, Louhou, and Jidu so all four Celestial Primates can have grandbabies to spoil.

Background: The Land of Eternal Snow still doesn't exist in the Sundown Era AU. Shanzha and RinRin are also nowhere in China during the Rebellion against Heaven. Why? Because they're in Goryeo (Korea) and Nippon (Japan), respectively, making a name for themselves. After inheriting the powers of the Celestial Primates and shaking up their respective pantheons, they headed over to China to retire together since one of their own ascended as Jade Emperor.

In one another life, Yishan was the firstborn son of a prestigious clan who grew up viewing almost everyone as his enemy. In this one, he was the son of legends posing as common herbalists living in the mountains.

What does a more well adjusted and untraumatized child Yishan look like? Well, he has more friends growing up. And when I mean friends, I mean animals. He likes animals more than people. He also has a habit of bringing home wounded animals for Shanzha to treat. (He begs to keep them every time but his moms keep telling him no.) He’s also incurably blunt and judgy - even to his mothers.

Shanzha makes sure to train her son in healing and martial arts while RinRin teaches him how to socialize and act. These are very necessary lessons since Yishan tends to piss off a lot of people just by being himself.

(Despite being raised by Shanzha and RinRin, there are some things about Yishan that stays the same lmao.)

Yishan ends up being a nerd over medicine and poisons. As for his social skills, he technically knows what to do in theory but doesn’t bother to extend the effort towards those he considers stupid.

As a late teen, Yishan became a traveling doctor so he could leave the nest and explore the world.

While Yishan heals people and battles against stupidity (and make more animal friends), he gains a reputation for being an amazing healer with the worst bedside manner. He also beat up a couple of powerful yaoguai because either 1) they were in the way of a key ingredient of a medical breakthrough or 2) he pissed them off first.

During his travels, Yishan meets and makes his first non-animal friend: a soldier named Mensheng. He turns down the offer to serve the soldier’s Ivory Lady and continues his journey.

Eventually, Yishan is kidnapped invited to the Celestial Realm by some very pushy attendants (one of whom he gives a nasty black eye) so he could become Laozi’s new apprentice.

Despite Yishan kicking and screaming through the entire process, he ends up being Laozi’s favorite. The man wouldn’t let him go.

Yishan frequently conspires with Laozi’s Bull to break out. They fail every time. The only reason why Yishan wasn’t as successful in leaving was because of the cool shiny new medicinal plants Laozi kept waving in front of his face.

Then, Yishan was tasked to assist Laozi in checking up on the health of the Princess of the Celestial Realm and acting ruler of Flower Fruit Mountain.

"Princess?" All of you are probably asking. Yup, Wukong and Macaque did end up having one (1) kid and it's Sangshen. Because of an attempted poisoning incident, she came out weak and sickly. Sangshen is adored by her parents but is seen as a disappointment to the Celestial Court (since she's female, weak, and takes after Macaque), so she prefers to stay in FFM.

Still, because of her poor health, Wukong would frequently send Laozi down to check up on her. At this point, Laozi spends more of his time at FFM than in the Celestial Realm. He even has his own room and lab there.

Laozi's plan was to drop Yishan off to FFM and take over in keeping tabs on Sangshen's health.

When Yishan first laid eyes on Sangshen, he was a complete goner. It was love at first sight. As for Sangshen, she fell slower, but no less harder. Yishan was so considerate and charming and devoted that she couldn't help but develop feelings. (Everyone else who knows him: Are we talking about the same Yishan?!?!)

Yishan being Yishan beings ridiculously rare and hard-to-obtain stuff to shower Sangshen with. With his attention (and daily offering of super rare medicine), her health improves by leagues.

Sangshen eventually breaks it to Yishan that he probably shouldn't be courting her since her parents would kill him where he stands if they caught wind of this. Her parents established pretty early that they wouldn't let anyone marry her unless they lasted 15 min in a battle against both of them.

Instead of being deterred, Yishan takes this challenge and asks for some PTO to visit Shanzha and RinRin.

Yishan: Hey moms, how do I stay alive in a spar against the Emperor and Empress of the Universe? Shanzha: What RinRin: What happened to "hi"? Also, wtf Yishan: I'm in love and it's the only way I can get permission to marry her

*Cue intense training montage*

After training his tail off, Yishan presents himself to the Emperor and Empress as a suitor for their daughter's hand. They are less than pleased and put him through the wringer for daring to ask. They beat him to the ground.

And yet, Yishan lasts for 30 minutes. So, after recovering, Yishan happily accepts the begrudging permission of his future in-laws and heads down to FFM to tell Sangshen the good news.

FFM: You mad bastard, you actually did it. Yishan: Obviously. If I didn't, Sangshen would cry and that's unforgivable.

Yishan wasted no time in proposing and Sangshen wasted no time in accepting. A wedding was then arranged in the Celestial Realm and Yishan's mothers were invited. Shanzha and RinRin come, of course.

An official freaks out at seeing Shanzha since he recognizes her as the Godslayer who wiped out the entire court of Korean Primordial Gods.

Another official flips his lid when he recognizes RinRin as the Trickster who swindled him during his time abroad in Japan.

When Shanzha and RinRin's identities as Celestial Primates come to light, the entire Celestial Court is filled with dread. Oh no, there's FOUR of them now.

Shanzha and RinRin get along with Wukong and Macaque like a house on fire. They trade unhinged stories of their youth and make plans to hang out. Shanzha jokingly offers to take out any Celestial who annoys Wukong too much. Wukong takes this offer very seriously, making many of his ministers sweat.

Yishan and Sangshen get married and spend many years of wedded bliss before Sangshen announces that she's pregnant.

Say hello to Yue~

This cutie pie made Wukong cry. At first, he was a little disappointed to see that she took mostly after Yishan's side of the family. Then, she sneezed and lo and behold, six ears popped out. Yishan had to fight with his father-in-law to get his daughter back.

Wukong wasn't any better when Louhou and Jidu were born. He might've been reluctant to be a father, but he took to being a grandfather like a duck to water.

Shadowpeach would squabble with Iceflower for grandbaby time. In the end, Iceflower simply moved into the Celestial Realm so all of them could have grandbaby time.

Extra Facts about Iceflower:

Shanzha used to be a devotee of the Primordial Korean gods. An event shattered her faith and took away everything she's ever cared about. Eyes opened to their cruelty, Shanzha started her quest in wiping them all out. Shanzha trained under the Long-Armed Gibbon as the Celestial Primate was sympathetic to her circumstances. She's very much inspired by Kratos as she was very unhinged during this period of life.

RinRin, on the other hand, was a pet monkey of a daughter of a samurai who evolved into a yokai after a tragedy. She sowed discord as a shapeshifter until she was killed by an angry god. The Red Buttocked Baboon found her in the Japanese Underworld and found her amusing enough to be his successor. RinRin then proceeded to cheat death, harass Japanese deities, and become a Loki-like figure.

Shanzha, born as “Nari” (Lily), renamed herself after a Chinese Hawthorn fruit usually used for medicine solely to outsmart a god who could cut a life short by calling out their name three times. The new name kept the god guessing long enough for her to shoot them down. Since it helped her keep her life, she ended up keeping the name.

Since RinRin had many names and faces during her time as a trickster spirit/deity, she was much more attached to her true name. Fun fact: Her name means “dignified bell” in Japanese.

46 notes · View notes

lightlycareless · 1 month ago

Text

An almost 10k piece but it's finally here, the toji fic continuation/conclusion. Ngl I'm really excited because after this I can literally write anything domestic with him—not that I needed to do so, but it kind of made sense in my mind lmao.

Anyways, I do recommend reading these two works (how it all started) (prior to this) (and an alternate ending.) beforehand to understand a bit more what is going on. Also, this is the official opening of a Toji category in my masterlist hahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Sorry for breaking the Naoya streak 🥹 I'll be back to him soon enough :)

Now, the warnings: angst. mentions of infidelity. self-harm. tiny mentions of naoya/reader. y/n is very miserable and toji pitiful. sorry :( and I apologize too if there are errors in my writing 🥹 or if Toji seems too ooc. It just needed to work this way.

Happy reading!

You never officially accepted Toji into your apartment, but you’ve long given up trying to push him away. Because whenever you thought yourself successful in doing so, he’d simply come back… more persistent than ever!

But it wasn’t all bad. In fact, the notion that he hadn’t become a burden since he arrived is something that elates you, for the last thing you needed was more problems pertaining to the Zen’in, a family you had strictly barred from being spoken of in your house…

Which Toji was more than happy to oblige to; he wasn’t too fond of them anyways before you came into his life, so this was the perfect agreement.

It didn’t mean there wasn’t moments where your curiosity got the best of you, where your mind wandered to your ex-husband, to the man you swore to love ‘till the rest of your life, wondering what he was doing, if he was missing you—

“You’re not allergic, are you?” Toji asks, snapping you out of your thoughts and back to the plate before you, his attempt of setting up the table.

“To what?”

“Mushrooms.” He says. “They’re in what we’re eating today.”

“…No. Not that I know of.”

“Good, then eat as much as you or the baby want.”

One of the main things you rarely worried about as of lately was food. Toji simply… decided it would be his responsibility, and has been doing a god job at that, even if most of the time it was just take out—cooking isn’t one of his strengths, but you suppose you couldn’t complain considering your precarious situation.

…

He didn’t need to do any of those things. Anything, really. There was never a necessity for him to seek you out and pretend to care for you. The relationship the two had back in the estate was practically nonexistent, whatever there was it was simply established out of convenience, what one could get out of the other… and you intended to keep it that way: your husband was the one you wanted.

But then, Toji was the only one to reach out to you after hell broke loose. Suddenly so interested in your and the baby’s well-being, without any apparent reason, was… eerie, to say the least. Almost too good to be true.

Yet, above all, it was painful. Because his actions only served to constantly remind you of the one you lost.

Question if you had perhaps… overreacted to Naoya’s cold words.

It wouldn’t be the first time the love of your life was pressured by his family to do things he didn’t want to. Say things he wouldn’t normally say to you.

That… that would make sense, wouldn’t it? It was simply more logical to assume that he’d never throw away all the years the two spent together… willingly, that is. That had to be the undeniable truth!

Or perhaps… not? Maybe he did believe that, wholeheartedly; and now desired to stay away from you for good—

Because if he thought otherwise, don’t you think he would’ve contacted you already? Try to make amends?

Oh, but how could you think that if you essentially disappeared? Hiding in some remote place of Japan in hopes of never being found…

There’s only one way to get the answers you desperately sought, and that would be contacting him. Reaching out for Naoya and giving him a chance to explain himself. Maybe it was all an misunderstanding, the foils of people that had always want nothing but your downfa—

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

You blink, once more being pulled back to reality and to the somewhat unwanted presence of the man before you.

You notice a prominent frown on his face, one that makes you believe he was trying to read your mind, as if that would ever be possible.

However, your assumption wasn’t that far off. In the short time the two have lived together Toji has gotten increasingly better in discerning whenever you were getting too deep into your own thoughts, and subsequently get you out of them before it got too… serious.

He could only imagine what went through that mind of yours—once a cheerful woman that brightened any room she walked in, now dimmed down to nothing less than a shadow of who she was.

Toji doesn’t question that whatever it is that you might be conjuring up isn’t good. Unfortunately, he won’t find out once you decide to postpone this train of thought to another day.

When it’s too late.

Toji doesn’t like pressuring topics. He’s always been the kind of person to not bother with trivial matters and just let things flow their natural way; if they end up biting him back later, that is something his future self will deal with.

However, that is not a privilege he can afford with your pregnancy, which you’ve profoundly refused to discuss with him. He doesn’t know if you plan on keeping it or not, and he supposes his opinion doesn’t really weigh in on your consideration, but that doesn’t mean he’d leave you to your luck.

Toji does not falter when it comes to keeping up with your growing needs. If you need a new blanket, or if there’s a new craving he needs to consider this time around, he’s on top of the situation as soon as it occurs.

Just because he didn’t have the same financial liberties as his annoying cousin doesn’t mean he wasn’t creative. He’d find a way, he always did, to get what he wanted.

Except when it came to convincing you into taking it easier. In other words…

“—you’re pregnant. You should spend most of your time resting.” He’d urge you once more, but you—still not keen on his presence around your modest home—take your work as your only means to escape your reality. “Or at least take lesser shifts… too much stress will harm you and the baby.”

“I’m fine.” Is the response you give him every single time the topic is brought up. Paying him no mind as you continue to do whatever it is that you enjoyed doing during your leisure time: reading, watching tv, or a simple nap.

Perhaps if the context behind your pregnancy was different, Toji would’ve found your stubbornness quite endearing. He might’ve even gotten to enjoy the fact that he was to become a father too! The idea never thrilled him in the past if he was being honest, but after getting a small taste of a domestic life with you, alongside the feeling of being wanted, he ended up liking it.

And what wasn’t there to like about having a home to return to? With people that look forward to see him, although the mother didn’t seem to appreciative of his presence yet… it was definitely an upgrade from the estate that cruelly demeaned him.

“Do you need anything from outside? I’m leaving soon.”

“No.” you respond curtly, he sighs. Well, at least you responded this time around.

“I’ll be back, then. Don’t do anything dangerous—and if you need anything you can always call me or Shiu. But I made sure everything is restocked beforehand.”

“Where are you going?” you ask, and this would be the first time he doesn’t openly indulge you, because he supposes you wouldn’t like the answer.

Why?

Because he’s going to the Zen’in estate.

As it was stated before, just because he was a man of limited resources, doesn’t mean he didn’t have options to go through. And one of those options led him to his old home. The Zen’in riches were vast, surely they wouldn’t notice the absence of a few things here and there, like clothes, cleaning supplies, even food, amongst other things he could still get a good mileage out of.

His visits there were always short and straight to the point. Toji’s hatred for them would continue to exist as long as he’s alive, more so after the horrible things they’ve done to you.

Yet, he never thought it possible for his disdain towards them to grow even stronger until he was proven wrong that very same day, after one of his relatives approaches him, handing him a white envelope that takes a lot of his willpower to not laugh at their ridiculous attempt of courtesy—

Or snap upon reading its contents.

“What is the meaning of this?” Toji breathes, his fingertips crumpling the edges of the paper.

“Is it not obvious?”

“Did you really expect me to care?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, it was only a formality.” The other responds. “Though no one really expected you to come since there’s rumors of your new… occupation.”

“If you dare do anything with that information, I’ll personally deal with you.” Even when being the black sheep of the family, the punching bag for their frustrations, there are still some that recognize his true power and do well in keeping their distance—just the right amount to keep instigating him but never to the point of crossing him. Toji often wishes they’d stop all together, but he supposes he can’t have everything in life. “Whatever, this is just garbage to me.”

“As I said, it was only a formality.”

“Yeah, right—whatever.” Toji says, quickly stowing away the envelope into his jacket with intentions of throwing it away once he got out of that wretched place, which he did so soon after, hoping to leave all this behind and get it done with.

But he wouldn’t be able to do that quite yet, not when the burden of the enveloped inside his jacket still weighed heavy on his mind. Toji had no interest in the affairs of the estate, on what the members decided or not to do, but… really? And so soon too?

It was clear to him that this is something you should never learn about. Not about his visits and certainly not about this.

He’ll take it to his grave, it’s the least he could do to preserve this small happiness he’s found.

Though it’s not what receives him once arriving at your apartment. There, just a few steps away from the entrance, you are scowling at him, arms crossed as you prepare to reproach him about his prolonged absence—all that was missing was the impatient tapping your foot and you’d be the epitome of an anxious wife.

How… endearing, he chuckles. At his unamusing response, your frown deepens.

“Where were you?” you ask once he begins to perch his coat at the nearby hanger. Toji barely had time to remove his shoes when you were already bombarding him with more questions. “At what time did you expect to return? Midnight??”

“What, worried about me?” Toji teases back, taking a deep sigh before looking up to you. You were already in your pajamas, it somewhat explains your behavior. “You know I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not what I meant, you’re just later than usual. If you’re going to live here then you must at least let me know if you’re going to be late, I was about to lock the door.”

“I’ll just make my way in if you do.” Toji responds, attempting to thread back one unruly strand of hair behind your ear, stopping him when you move away. “Or you can give me a copy of the keys.”

“I’d rather you not, the last thing I need is the neighbors becoming even nosier than they already are.”

“Sounds like a good reason to give me keys.” He insists once more, like he’s always done after the few first days of living with you.

But you’ll only continue to reject him, briefly twisting your lips before turning around and heading back into your bedroom, effectively terminating the conversation and leaving Toji on his own—as these situations often went by.

A part of him wishes that by now your… behavior towards him might’ve eased up a bit. He’s not asking you to do a 180 and act as if the two were best friends since forever, but at least give him some consideration when it comes to all he’s done for the apartment and you…

It’s disheartening to see that everything remains essentially the same since the first day, if it hadn’t worsened already…

And yet, just when he was about to give up, hope is rekindled withing him upon seeing the small plate set up on the table, served with food that is undoubtedly cold by now, but its intentions still remain clear. It was for him.

You had put aside a plate for him in case he returned for dinner. The first time you’ve ever done so.

No wonder you were angry, he essentially stood you up!

And the thought alone of your attempts to get along is enough to have all silly ideas of your rejection thrown out the window, taking the plate to the microwave as he giddily reflects how you’ve grown a soft spot for him. Because small as it was, it was still there.

«All that, and she actually likes me, doesn’t she?»

Maybe. Might be more of tolerating that actual enjoyment, but it’s an advancement he’s willing to take to heart, enough to have him in a great mood for the rest of the night as he sits down to enjoy his meal and watch some tv—forgetting all about his visit to the estate, that dreaded envelope he’s forgotten to throw away before arriving to the apartment, and instead, inspire him to do something different.

Something involving the two, for a change.

Consider it as a token of his appreciation.

Or the calm before the storm.

Toji spent quite a lot of time shaping out everything. It was very surprising in fact to look back on his intricate itinerary knowing he was the one who made it. But it shouldn’t come off that shocking, he’s always been the type of person to achieve whatever he sets his mind to.

Guess it really boils down to being capable of putting aside his needs in favor of others. Yours.

All he planned for the day was with your enjoyment in mind, though mostly because of his ignorance when it came to your preferences. One would think that considering the time he’s spent living with you he ought to know something.

But reality was that he barely knew anything—like the places you like to frequent, if there are any restaurants you considered your favorites, or parks you’d like to take a stroll on from time to time…

What little he knew came from your time at the estate, when you were still in the good graces of Naoya and in the receiving end of his fortune. There was not a day where an expensive gift didn’t grace your attention, high end brands alongside names he’s never even heard of that Toji could only dream of affording.

So yeah, it was intimidating. But he tried his best anyways, so the program ended up going something like this:

First, he’d pick you up from work. It’s his day off so it’s not like he has anything else to do, but beyond that, he wants to do it. It’s… quite a nice gesture to do, right? Besides, he’s always wanted to see where you actually worked.

From there, get something to eat. He always ends up starving after work so he supposes that for a pregnant woman that must be no different. There are a few options he’s set aside near your job, but if you wish to go somewhere a bit further to disconnect, he can also do that.

Later on is when his options branch out more. The two could either go to a park to wind down, watch a movie, or even go to the mall. Do some shopping he thinks you might enjoy… or even start looking into a nursery.

Your current apartment is quite small, having only 1 bedroom and a somewhat humble living room/kitchen he’s transformed into a bedroom of sorts, which would’ve been more than enough for one person, but for the family of 3 you were to become, that was not appropriate.

Which is the other thing he wished to go through today. After a series of side jobs there’s no real need for you to know of, he’s gotten enough for a deposit in one of the new places he’s set his eyes on.

Sure, moving onto a much nicer apartment might demand a few restraints from both when it comes to financial decisions, but ultimately the benefits outweighed the sacrifices; by doing so, you’d be in an area where your commute wouldn’t take up to 30 mins before seeing the faintest semblance of urbanism.

What you have right now is certainly not what he’d consider ideal for the mother of his child. In case of an emergency, there’s only some family-owned pharmacy to rely on. The nearest hospital is all the way down to the city!

But even if the places were not up to your expectations Toji would still make it work.

Because he’s been in your shoes, he’s got you under his skin: understanding all too well what it is to need help and have everyone turn their back on you.

It’s a dreadful, empty sensation he never wants to experience again, less on woman he’s slowly become more and more fond of by each passing day.

Ironic to think that the man many considered ruthless had become putty in your hands. And how could he not, after having a taste of what it is to be… needed? Alongside your small attempts to get along with him, or so that’s how he perceives the moments you’re not outright rejecting him.

The same ones that motivated him to keep doing his best, as well as be more approachable in his posture. Toji’s aware that his façade isn’t quite the softest one out there, but at least he’s not ugly! That ought to amount to something, right? More so if he plans to win you over like that too…

Either way, regardless of what is to happen down the line or now, Toji gets thrilled at the prospect of spending time with you. Hoping to finally see one of those adorable smiles he always loved to catch when no one was seeing—

But unfortunately, his expectations would stray off in a completely different direction once arriving at your work to learn that you weren’t there anymore. You hadn’t been there, in fact, for quite some time now. Apparently, there were days where you’d leave early just because. Naturally your workplace wasn’t to disclose that kind of personal information to anyone, less to a complete stranger in their eyes.

Seems you hadn’t bothered to tell them about him… but it’s fine. They’re not people he cares for either, so he doesn’t let it affect him much.

Your early departure instead makes Toji wonder where you’ve gone. He never really noticed your little habit since you always came back to the apartment at the same time, but he can’t help but hopefully assume you were ok. Already on way to home, actually. If he’s quick enough he might even catch you at the train station—which he better do if he hopes to continue with his carefully detailed itinerary.

Yet, as he arrived through all possible places where you could be, scanning them only to realize you were nowhere to be found…

Toji grows a bit worried. Anxious as he rushes back to the apartment, where he finds the door open but the premises void of your presence.

It’s a small place, there’s no way he’d miss a spot—it’s not like you were hiding underneath the bed or in the closet. Too silly, that doesn’t sound like you either way.

But what does sound like you, however, is the necessity to have everything neatly organized. From the cabinets to the few plants outside the window, you always made sure that everything was to your visual liking.

Such as his so-called bedroom, apparently having folded his clothes and set them on the edge of the couch to make use of it, he assumes.

… Even the jacket he wore that day to the estate, the same one that harbored that damning envelope he had forgotten of in favor of thinking about you.

Which now laid open, crinkled, on the living room floor, with its contents available for anyone around to see.

Just one second of observing the scene, just one moment was all that Toji needed to understand what had occurred. What your curious nature had unwittingly pushed you into, his heart dropping to his stomach once the gravity of the situation finally hits him.

Soon after, he turns around, sprints past the door and begins to scour for you. Exasperatedly calling for your name, looking from one side of the neighborhood to the other, even asking the nearby unsuspecting passers of your whereabouts in hopes they’d have a lead, only to remain empty handed.

Each second that passed his worries just grow stronger, like a ticking bomb, his mind was only conjuring the worst scenarios your knowledge of that situation could evoke—

But none could compare to the one he concluded after a neighbor gave him his much-needed answers.

Or more like torments.

“I think I saw her—the woman you’re talking about.” They said, Toji’s heart quickens. Clenching his grasp as he swallows. “She looked very agitated while going to the nearby pharmacy before heading to the forest—”

No.

Nononononono

No.

“To the hills?” Toji scowls. “And you didn’t stop her?!”

“I—I didn’t think I needed to! She’s always been… reserved, you know? She doesn’t even salute us when passing by; so, I just thought she wanted to be alone—”

Toji didn’t have time to waste trying to make sense of a selfish fool that couldn’t see what you were horrifyingly planning to do. Instead, he cuts through their conversation and rushes to the forest, following the small trail which he hoped you took and find you before it was too late.

Before you took one more step towards the cliff, which he could easily see you were still determining to do or not given the fixed gaze you had upon it, and the tight grip you had on the small boxes of medicine.

The only two options you had to deal with the dreadful news of the estate. The only ones your broken heart could think of.

“Y/N—Now, let’s not do anything irrational—” Toji begins, stopping just a few feet away to not startle you, but close enough to react in case…

“How long have you known?” you breathe, eyes still on the edge.

“I don’t think it matt—”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” You shriek, snapping your head back to him. He already imagined so, but the look of your reddened eyes and soaked cheeks only shows how much pain you were truly in.

How much love you still harbored for the one that wronged you.

And how little importance he had in your life.

“How long have you known that Naoya is getting married?”

Toji swallows, he had to be extra careful with his words because at the minimal miscalculation this could very mean your decision. But at the same time, to see you so afflicted by his ungrateful cousin… he…

“You weren’t supposed to.” Toji responds honestly. “I… didn’t think it was necessary considering all that happened.”

“And who gave you the authority to decide that? What made you think I needed your consideration?!”

“I just thought it would be the best for you, you are pregnant with my—"

“Oh, the best for me.” You mock with a laugh. “Of course you’re only doing the best for me! How could I forget the way you essentially forced your way into my life when I didn’t even want you near me! It was all because of your miserable self that I got—I got stuck with you!”

But even if your words hurt him far more than any pain he’s ever experienced by his own family, he pushes through the ringing of his ears and seeks for your safety first.

“Y/N, please, let’s—let’s have this conversation in a… safer area.” Toji cautions upon seeing you take a step closer to the cliff, so his paranoia made him believe. “It’s cold, and you’re probably hungry too, let’s come back hom—"

“You never really cared for me, did you? All of the things you’ve done… it was only because you want to get revenge on Naoya, isn’t it?! It’s always been that, since the very. First. Day.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Y/N. You know I rarely had contact with him, he was the one always looking for me like a stray dog!”

“Don’t insult—”

“And you knew too how much I loathed that place.” He continues. “If I could, I would’ve left a long time ago.”

“But you didn’t anyways, right? Because you were searching for the perfect way to get back at them!” you gasped. “And you—you found that opportunity in me!”

Toji should’ve felt great offense at your accusing words, more so since they were incredibly one-sided and void of any semblance of truth—his truth.

But instead, all that he felt was an inundated sense of sadness at the realization that the preconceived notions of his family had made way to you too. Completely overruling your once sweet demeanor with the cruelness he had been all too acquainted with throughout his whole life.

Was he cursed to never do anything right?

Never be happy?

Did it even matter… to try anymore?

…

“Is that what you think of me?” he softly asks, you frown at his incredulous belief. “I would never do that to you. Not you.”

Not once he’s realized how much he’s changed for you.

But his words only served to further stir the fire within you.

“It’s because of you that I’m stuck with this damned—thing!”

The crude way you refer to his unborn child hurts his heart in inexplicable ways he doesn’t believe he’s ever experienced before; but yet again, it shows that not even his offspring is safe from the torment he was promised since the moment he was born.

His steel front begins to chirp at your indifference, as felt in the knot in his throat at the tears slowly forming in the corners of his eyes. And the shatter of his heart.

“Because of you—Naoya is… Naoya is going to marry that woman.” The one from a prestigious, powerful clan; the type of person that while you never imagined the Zen’in would like as future Lady of the House, it’s clear by a quick comparison that she was a much better candidate: rich, strong, beautiful…

You could never hold a candle to her, much less in your current situation, that much is obvious now.

Officially, heart wrenchingly so, you’ve lost your husband.

Forever.

And all because of Toji’s selfish desires—

“Please, let’s just go home; you can do anything you want to me. Scream, cry, hit me, hate me, anything you want.” He pleads. “Just get away from the edge, please."

“I have no home.” You respond. “I lost it the moment I… I got involved with you.”

He knew their relationship had been rocky since the very beginning, but he never thought it was this bad. Maybe because a part of him hoped that after all the time the two spent together you would’ve… softened up a bit.

Perhaps not to the same extent as his, but at least… be careful enough to not spew all those poisonous words that only inched the knife of your indifference deeper and deeper into his heart.

Guess that was all on his mind.

“I hate you.” You suddenly declare. “I really do.”

“You don’t mean that.” Toji responds immediately after, his last attempts to gather the pieces of his ruptured heart before they completely disappeared. “You’re just angry.”

“No.” you double down. “You don’t know how much I hate seeing you around the apartment, doing all those stupid things just to appear a good person when we both know you aren’t! When because of you I’ve become worthless to— to my husband…! Because of this thing that I’m carrying!

…

If I—I could only get rid of it then maybe—then maybe Naoya will want me back. If so, I will do whatever it takes so it happens.” You begin to spiral, suddenly revealing your intentions in this place and making Toji’s eyes widen.

“What are you planning to do, Y/N?” He breathes. “You don’t—you don’t have to do anything. Not like this. Not when we can still talk and figure it out!”

“I can get my old life back with this thing out of the way, my marriage, my house, my—my love—" you begin to tremble, the faintest possibility of being back in Naoya’s arms is enough to put a smile on your face, if just for a moment.

Live in the fantasy that he hadn’t moved on from you. Like he hadn’t set eyes on someone else as soon as he made ease of his turmoiled heart.

Even if it had been by force, through matters of his clan that he was tasked to get married again, the truth remained the same: Naoya didn’t seek you out. He didn’t put up a fight to stop you from leaving nor defend your honor. He didn’t even try pushing his family’s overbearing ways back.

He simply took what was given to him, showing that he cared little next to nothing for the marriage he supposedly sacrificed a lot for, and leaving you at the lowest point of your life to fend for yourself.

But if you were already rock bottom, then that meant your life could only improve from there.

A small risk to take to get back the love of your life.

The same one Toji needed to do in this precise moment, if he didn’t want to lose you either.

“Y/N, Naoya… he doesn’t want you back.” Toji suddenly says, hoping that his words would snap you out of your delusions. “And getting rid of the baby will not make any difference.”

“How would you even know that? Someone—someone as despicable as you couldn’t know a single thing about love!” you reproach. Toji swallows, taking a step closer just in case you—you… “What would someone like you know about how I feel?! About the pain I carry?!!”

Much more than you imagined.

Much, much more, since he’s become clear in his thoughts. Of his feelings.

You weren’t alone. You didn’t need to, not when he was there to support you,

When he was there to—

To…

“—love you.” Toji suddenly declares, and for the first time that evening, your thoughts come to a screeching halt, blinking as you try to understand what he just foolishly said. If he even knew what it meant. “I—I love you, Y/N.”

But you only took his words as another baseless jest to get you right where he wanted. A manipulation tactic it didn’t surprise you he’d use against you—in your most vulnerable moment too… has he got no shame?!

“Do not lie to me, after all you’ve done, after all you made me lose—the least I deserve is your honesty!”

“But I am telling the truth.” He persists. Toji has never considered himself to be quite the nervous type; he was quite the opposite, really…

Yet, when it came to facing the love of his life in attempts of saving her life…

He’d rather face a thousand curses than go through this painful ordeal any longer.

Nonetheless, he pushes through. Because a life without you is not a life worth living.

“Since our days intertwined for the very first time, you’re all I cared for.”

“Stop it, you don’t mean—you don’t know—”

“I fell in love with your smile. With the way you laughed.” He continues, taking a step closer to you at every word he professes. Toji expected you to back away, but you only stood there petrified as he began to list all your virtues, much to his elation. “With the way your eyes seem to glisten whenever eating sweets. How you play with your hair whenever deep in thought. How you like to sleep on your right side but don’t do it because of the lights coming from the window, keeping you awake.”

“I don’t want to—I don’t want to hear any more of how you’re a creep—!”

“With the way you always reproach at me, and then… still put up a plate for me on the table.” He chuckles at the memory, how bothered you looked that one night, and yet… “I’ve always thought your pout was cute, but it wasn’t until I became the reason of it that I completely fell in love with it.”

“Why are you even telling me this? What do you think you’ll get out of me?!”

“I don’t know, nothing, maybe. I guess. Besides reminding you that you’re not worthless.” Toji says. “Because to me, you’re everything.”

“That’s not—"

“It’s the truth. All of my words, every single one of them, I meant.” Toji murmurs. “You have no idea how desolate my life was until you came along. How you brightened my days with just one word; and even less than that. You just had to smile my way, and I’d stop feeling like the disgrace of the clan. Just one smile, and I’d feel human. Worthy. Like I mattered.”

You wished to snap back, but the shocking, genuine nature of his declaration keeps you speechless.

“I won’t deny that my actions back then were made with a jealous intent. A craving to have what my cousin did—to have power over those that wronged me, one way or the other.

But I guess the more I spent time with you, without him, the more I began to sink. To let my thoughts unravel and wonder what it would be instead, to be cherished, loved, needed by someone as gentle as you.

I never intended things to end like this. You’re a delicate flower amongst that ocean of thorns. You, of all people, don’t deserve to go through all this suffering.

It’s why I swear to you again that I will do everything to make you happy. To give you what you need. Whatever it is, whatever you want, it’s yours, just—

Just don’t leave me.”

It’s only when he instinctively lets out a sob that he realizes how much he’s been crying, the two, in fact. Both yours and his cheeks soaked with tears at the presence of his undying love. Of his desire to be with you, through good or bad, better or worse. It didn’t matter if the two ended up in the street, barely making it through the day, and hated by everyone in the whole world…

Because as long as the two were together, that was enough to make Toji happy.

It’s what you always sought for a partner, what you always dreamed of…So why…

Why do you keep rejecting the things your heart so desperately desired to have once again?

“You can ignore me, hate me, treat me like I’m the worst person in the whole world, I can take it. I’m used to it. But don’t leave me.” He breathes, voice trembling as he finally reaches out to you, mere inches away from touching you... “If you leave me, I’ll…. I’ll do it myself too. I’ll jump down that cliff, or take whatever pills you take, to be with you. Because a life with you is… a life without meaning.”

…

“But you don’t believe me, do you?” Toji fearfully asks in response to your overwhelming silence, your refusal to acknowledge the heart he’s poured out to you. “You don’t believe anything I say—why? Why don’t you?”

Was he… was he truly that despicable? So unthinkable to believe that a man like him was capable of loving too?

Did he not go through enough punishment already?

How much more must he suffer, for the gods to leave him at peace?

Not much longer, because unknowingly to him, his words served to break you free from all that was holding you back. The refusal to accept the pain has inflicted on you, on your marriage and new reality.

On the fact that your heart has been shattered, probably in a million pieces, an occurrence that would probably take a lifetime to fix, if you ever do.

And if you somehow manage, you don’t want to risk it. You don’t want to endanger yourself;

All because you don’t—

“—don’t want to —I don’t—I don’t want to get my heart broken ag—again…!”

All the painful words you cruelly used against Toji were only results of your anger, and not your true sentiments towards him, that much he could understand once he quickly and tightly held you into his arms. Pulling you as close as he could into his embrace as you begin to cry, letting all that you’ve been holding in since your departure of the estate out.

The tears you never shed. The cries you never made.

It was all coming out. Washing over your body as it finally allowed your heart to heal for the first time.

“I won’t do that to you, I swear.” He breathes against your hair; you sob once more.

“Please—please don’t do this to me.” You beg. “I can’t—I won’t be able to take it again!”

“I won’t.” He repeats. “I will never let any pain hurt you ever again.”

And thus, your new life begins.

It took some time and great effort, but with enough patience and understanding, your perspective of him finally began to change.

Now, while you still had a long way to go to completely welcome him into your life, at least you no longer treated him with disdain.

Your mornings would begin with greetings to him, simple questions of if there’s something he desired to eat while you got breakfast ready, as well as good wishes wishes on his commute to work—if he didn’t accompany you to your own job, that is, which you eventually left once your pregnancy symptoms (and Toji’s endless persistence) were too much to handle.

But perhaps the most important improvement was your willingness to give him a copy of your apartment keys—or more like your keys, but the intentions were still the same, nonetheless. Toji almost pinched himself at the moment, if you hadn’t scolded him for being too silly.

“Really? For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have.” Toji teases, you frown.

“Just take them before I regret it. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to use them anyways…”

It happened so when you decided to continue with your pregnancy.

Regardless of how it came to be, and after much consideration… there’s no use in hiding the fact you’ve always wanted a family. A little baby to call your own, in a house you can decorate to your liking, with someone that would always be by your side to support you.

And everything seemed to be aligning just where you wanted. Not only for you, but for him too.

Toji had gotten a better job, one that afforded you a calm, work-free life, as well as a new apartment, one that promised to ease all of your constant fears of someone breaking in, as well as the proximity of all services you might come to use now with the baby.

You still couldn’t believe how it happened. That it even did.

Just one day, coincidentally the last one you were to work, Toji decided to pick you up and bring you along for some errands—little did you know, he was planning on showing you the new place you’d call home.

“Toji, this is—but the things—”

“They’re already here. I moved them all while you were at work.” He explains, your mouth falls wide open. “Nice, huh? Definitely an improvement.”

“Yeah...”

“And it’s all ours.”

It was hard for you to keep acting coldly as you always had towards him; definitely so after the gift he’d just given you. It just… wasn’t right for you to remain motionless, you needed to repay him for all his kindness!

But what could you possibly give a man as mysterious as him? Toji was… enigmatic, to say the least. And what little you knew just made your confusion regarding him grow even bigger.

Yet, if you listened carefully, remained attentive enough to his actions, you’d soon discover that he wasn’t as rough as he appeared to be. In fact, he was quite the softie when it came to be, and with the most unsuspecting thing too.

Yes, he had normal pastimes, like hanging out with that one friend of his, Shiu was his name? Though he seemed a bit more of an acquaintance, or even a coworker, than anything else. Gambling was another, or so you learned from Shiu, though it seems he’s stopped according to the same man. “—thanks to his new responsibility.”

Which circles you back to the first point.

Beneath that intimidating, cold exterior he always professed, Toji genuinely liked the prospect of being a father. From the way his gaze lingered at the baby department whenever passing by, or how he was always attentive to your needs…

There was not a person that eagerly awaited this baby more than him—you even overheard it so during the moments he thought you asleep, on those nights when your discomfort was too much to ignore and such, Toji remained by your side; keeping you company until slumber finally took over. Or at least distract you.

He carefully placed his hand over your protruding belly, sighing as he began to talk to the baby, the still nameless life he never expected to become so fond of, as if it could respond. Well, he just needed to wait a few months if that’s what he wanted, but he’d probably regret it when the kid turns out to be nothing short of a babbling mess.

Until then, he’d confide in his child his deepest desires, one in particular catching your attention and what you ultimately pursue to show just how much he’s begun to mean to you.

“The baby—it’s a boy.” The nurse soon declared once you’ve gone through all the strenuous, agonizing endeavor that arrival of your baby was.

You thought you were prepared for it, took endless classes and courses for it, mentalized that it was going to hurt… just never to this extent. The moment your water broke all that you had learned was wiped out of your memory, anxiety soon taking a hold of your emotions—

However, if it weren’t for Toji’s presence, his attempt of comforting words you unwittingly dismissed by shrieking at him.

“Shut up! You’re not the one pushing a goddamn baby out of your body!”

To which he laughs in response, because he finds your words amusing, or because he needed a way to take out his stress before he turned delirious with concern…

You wouldn’t have made it. You wouldn’t be where you were right now, exhausted, sweaty, but with your child in your arms.

An adorable baby boy that just by a glance you could already see whom he’d look like the most.

“Y/N.” Toji calls. He spent hours and hours daydreaming of this moment, of finally seeing the child he made with you—but when it finally came… he couldn’t lift his gaze from you. From the breathtaking sight of the family, his family, he’s sworn to cherish and protect.

From the love in your eyes as you admired the little baby boy he just knew would be a troublemaker, yet, still inheriting your kindness. Probably the only thing he’d get from you as you noted.

“He has your hair.” You say, cutting through his thoughts. “And… your eyes. Your face too.”

“I’m sure he has something of you.” He chuckles, leaning closer to you to get a good look at his child, realizing you weren’t lying. “You did well, Y/N. I was so afraid that something would happen to you, but you were brave and strong, like I always knew you were capable of”

“Toji…” you murmur, voice trembling at his words. Maybe you were just sensitive after all you endured; or perhaps… you’ve opened up to him, finally. “I was so, so frightened…”

“I know, but it’s over now. You can rest.” He continued. “And once you wake up, we’ll be here, waiting for you. To go home.”

Your lip spreads into a small smile, giving him a quick chuckle before sighing.

Finally, all of it, the sleepless nights, the random cravings, the unbearable aches, were over.

Kind of, the real struggle was only beginning.

But none of it mattered once you looked back at your lovely boy once more and realized it had all been worth it.

Your life with Megumi—a name you chose to show your appreciation for Toji, which he was elated to hear as seen in the twinkle of his eye—alongside his father, is one you couldn’t wait to see.

You knew Megumi was fated to look just like his father the moment he was born, but his growing similarities were simply ridiculous. Was it fair that he was an exact copy of him, after 9 months of carrying him?

Probably not. But you only excuse him because he’s too darn adorable! Though your amusement didn’t go without precautions, which Toji always denied.

“You should stop scowling around Megumi, Toji.” You begin. “He’s picking up your bad habits…”

“Scowling? I don’t scowl.” He retorts, a smile on his face as he does the same thing he refused doing. “Whatever the brat does isn’t my fault.”

“Don’t call him that.” You pout. “He has a beautiful name you should use more often.”

He does, he silently agrees. Heart fluttering whenever hearing you call him the miracle he was always meant to be. Or when remembering you’d given him such honor.

…

It’s these little things that always have him questioning where he stands in your heart.

And while he promised to always be with you, beyond what he feels for you simply because that’s what a real man does, a part of him still hoped that maybe, just… maybe, you’ve grown fond of him. More than the father of your child, like a possible partner to rely on too.

But he won’t push you. Because he understands that you’ve been through enough emotional turmoil for him to simply barge in and demand an answer from you.

Was it too much to ask?

No. Because you were very aware of the wrongdoings you’ve committed at the beginning of your story with him, plaguing your mind every second of the day, trying your best to make it up to him but failing to find the right way to do so.

Or more like the courage, for your shame often rendered you speechless in the quiet, private moments between the two when it would’ve been the perfect time to do so.

But it comes. In the most unexpected way too, on Megumi’s first birthday, which he coincidentally planned all by himself—by overshadowing your attempts, a spirit of competition ignites that day, but that’s a story for another time.

“The brat likes that weird show… the one that airs early in the morning, doesn’t he?” Toji asks as soon as you enter the apartment, helping you with the bags in your hands, filled with decorations and balloons for the small birthday party you planned to throw for your baby—though that was no longer necessary given his efforts.

“Toji…” you murmur, he quietly apologizes. “But yeah, he does.”

“Good, ‘cause that’s the cake I got him.”

“A… cake?” you blink, startled to see the big white box on the table, Toji opening it soon after and revealing a cake inside—themed of Megumi’s favorite show of the moment, just as he said. “Isn’t that… much for just the three of us? And Megumi can’t even eat that yet—and did you do all this??”

“Seems more than enough for us, wouldn’t you agree? Or are you no longer a sweet tooth?”

But you don’t respond, still… trying to take in what was happening before you.

“…I just thought it would be nice for the kid’s first birthday. To celebrate it. Though most of these things early on in his life only tend to matter to the parents since they don't even know what their name is.” Toji adds. “…What I mean to say is that if you don’t want it, we can still—”

“No, no. I… I’m just thinking of all the things I have to return now that you... won me at it.”

“We can use them next year or spend the cash on something else.”

“Gambling?” you raise an eyebrow.

“You know I don’t do that anymore, princess.” He chuckles. “Maybe that family photo session you wanted. Or something nice for you.”

“You need new clothes.” you quip back. “We could start there.”

“That wouldn’t be the case if you didn’t steal all of them when you7 were pregnant."

“Ah, so now it’s my fault?”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.” He smirks. “Would a slice of cake make up for my insulting mistake?”

“…maybe.”

“Then get Megumi ready while I take care of everything else.”

“Yeah, I’ll… I guess I’ll do that.” Yet, as determined as you seemed to be on picking up Megumi, a soft smile on your lips as you cooed at him, telling him if he was ready to celebrate his first birthday and oh, how exciting it was going to be with all the presents he got…

Your mind was nowhere near him.

It remained on Toji. On what his actions had stirred inside you once more since the moment he gave you the new apartment.

Since he held you close the day you decided to end it all. After he comforted you after a rough night of cold tears and never-ending aches, never leaving your side even when you continuously pushed him away.

Once he gave you the last piece of pizza, the one he always ate, just in case you were still hungry. Or how he didn’t mind when you stole his hoodies, all of them really, just because they were warmer and… because you liked his scent, how it calmed you.

How everything about him soothed you. Even those not so quiet snores you couldn’t sleep without now.

As you recounted these moments, the truth unfolded before you once again. What you always knew but denied out of fear of getting hurt again.

But you could no longer hide it anymore, not when your heart was demanding you to free it. Yourself.

Him.

So, after letting little Megumi propped up in his chair, you hastily headed to the kitchen, where the only other guest of the party was overseeing the last details on the cake (such as the candle) as well as getting more napkins—his son was quite the messy eater, so they could never be too sure— stopping when hearing your approach.

“Oh, Y/N, is there something you needed? Are you ok?” Toji asks. You seemed in a hurry, distressed even; naturally, he had to worry. “Is everything alright with Megumi?”

“Yes, he’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m… not here because of him.” You slowly confess, swallowing down your nerves before looking up to him and continuing. “I just… I just wanted to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asks, you press your lips together.

It was hard, no one ever promised otherwise, but this was a very necessary conversation you could no longer ignore.

So, after taking one last breath, you begin.

“That I’m—I’m sorry. For the horrible way I treated you back then. I… I had no excuse to do so, even if I was going through a hard time in my life, that was no justification for the dreadful words I used against you, or the way I diminished all that you’ve done for me.

You were always, always good to me and I… I just didn’t care because I had my own issues that I dumped onto you.” You breathe, a sob trying it’s hardest to escape your lips, breaking through anyways. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry—”

“Y/N…”

“I guess what I mean to say is… thank you, for everything. And I’m sorry, for everything too.”

“You apologize too much, you know?” Toji says before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into an embrace. You silently sniffle, taking in his warmth before returning the gesture. “You don’t need to do that; I’ve long forgiven you.”

“Ho—How? When?” you gasp, raising your gaze to him. “…why?”

“Didn’t I tell you before?” He chuckles, looking down at you before giving you one last smile. “I love you.”

And while it’s not the first time you’d heard him say so, whether subtly or bluntly, whether through words or actions…

But it is the first time you’ve smiled at his words. Accepting them into your heart, which in turn, finally pushed you to take that step and admit what you desperately needed to do so.

At least openly to him, because deep within, you already knew.

“I… love you too. I—I think, no. I know.” You say. “I know I love you too.”

Alongside their little miracle, their hearts were never empty again.

🥺

One of my followers will know who Naoya married lol. I do plan to explore that idea later on, after I finish up other requests :> hehe.

Now, I hope you enjoyed this small piece 🥹 as always, things ended up chaing a bit when I got down to write it but the tragicness of it all remained. I wanted a naive Toji that was happy to be with YN while she was stuck with Naoya still, enough so to attempt doing that.

Also, I first envisioned them declaring their feelings for one another after the birth of Megumi, but decided to change that to his first birthday eventually. Thought it was nicely paced :) enough for YN to heal and such.

Well, there you have it. One of the many things I hope to write about Toji in the future :> Thank you so much for reading it.

Now, take care, and see you soon!!

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk toji #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

42 notes · View notes

skateordiebitch · 2 months ago

Note

Enemies to lovers!Dom and him being in secretly in love with you because I’m a sucker for clichés lol💕

CABIN FEVER || D.F x reader

summary: dominic fike is your childhood best friend turned enemy. every conversation is a recipe for disaster... but, what happens when you guys have to share a room in a cabin for a weekend?

ah yes the enemies to lovers clichè...... love her dearly!!! dominic gives that vibe heavy for some reason LMAO. it was a little too easy to write this. anyways, per usual requests are open and enjoy!

Dominic and you had a rhythm to your rivalry — if you could call it that. It was the kind of relationship where you’d sooner pretend to be total strangers than acknowledge the magnetic, impossible-to-ignore pull between you.

The friends you shared, however, were not blind to this ongoing feud; they thrived on it, watching with half-amused, half-exasperated smiles every time you and Dominic ended up in the same room.

There was a long list of reasons why you couldn’t stand him.

The ego was a big part, for one. He knew he was a big deal and didn’t care who knew it, throwing around his charm like it was a game, getting whatever he wanted without so much as lifting a finger.

And the worst part?

Everyone else seemed to eat it up.

Except you.

You found the arrogance insufferable. It didn’t help that he’d never hesitated to pick you apart, finding flaws and quirks he could tease, always seeming to know exactly how to get under your skin.

If you made a comment about his music career, he’d fire back with a smirk, implying that you could only dream of being so successful.

The mutual friends between you knew better than to let you two share a ride to group outings.

There was one infamous night, when you’d been forced to share an Uber home after a party.

The whole drive was a back-and-forth argument that could have been the script for a rom-com — only there was nothing “romantic” about the way you hurled insults and Dominic rolled his eyes, making jabs about how you were “almost as stubborn as you were clueless.”

It had gotten so heated that the Uber driver had kicked you both out halfway home.

And that became the norm.

Snide remarks, bickering, and a constant battle of who could out-wit the other. It was never kind, never playful. If anything, it felt like every interaction was just barely avoiding a complete explosion.

Your ongoing rivalry with Dominic had become such a given that no one even tried to keep you two apart anymore.

It was easier to just let you both simmer, each party assuming you’d work out your differences — or at least tolerate each other.

But when your mutual friend, Kevin, decided to celebrate his birthday with a weekend trip to the mountains, the room assignments threw a wrench in everyone’s plans.

And there was no doubt that it wasn’t just a ‘coincidence.’

You practically laughed when he said, “You’re with Dominic.” Until you realized he was serious.

“No way,” you protested. “Oh, absolutely not. There’s no way.”

He just raised an eyebrow. “I’m not splitting you guys up at this point. You guys need to learn how to get along.”

“We aren’t five, Kev,” you say in protest, “I just don’t wanna be with… him.”

All Kevin did was laugh in your face, “Tell yourself, that. Maybe some forced time together will make you both act like normal human beings.”

You knew better than to argue when Kevin had that look on his face. That look that said ‘room with him, or don’t come at all.’

So, with no choice but to accept the arrangement, you found yourself sleeping in the same room with the one person you’d much rather avoid.

The cabin itself was beautiful, set against a backdrop of pine trees and snowy mountains. It was the sort of place meant for cozying up, but that idea made you laugh in spite of yourself as you and Dominic entered the small, shared room.

He tossed his bag onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, shooting you a glare. “This has got to be a fucking joke.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you muttered, already strategizing how you’d manage to avoid him for the next three days.

Unfortunately, there was no escape.

The room was too small, and the cabin was filled with your friends, all of whom seemed to think your bickering was just a “cute quirk.”

You threw your bag on the bed closest to the window, hoping to claim the best spot. Dominic followed suit, watching you like you’d just challenged him to a duel.

“Are you seriously taking the bed by the window?” he scoffed, throwing his own bag onto the other bed. “Typical.”

“Typical?” you echoed, raising a brow. “Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who has to turn everything into a competition.”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the bed frame. “Right, because this is all about me. You’re the one who walked in here like it’s some sort of battleground. But sure, pull the victim card if it makes you feel better.”

“Victim?!” You could practically feel your blood pressure spike. “God, Dominic. You are actually unbelievable!”

“Glad to see I’m still under your skin,” he said with that infuriating smirk, his tone dripping with smugness. He leaned a little closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I’ll try not to keep you up too much tonight. You know, since you seem so... affected by my presence.”

You laughed, mirthless. “You really think that highly of yourself, huh? I can’t wait to be so far on the other side of the room I forget you’re even here.”

“Oh, please,” he shot back, feigning hurt. “You’d be bored to death without me around. Admit it. You’re secretly thrilled to have me as your little roommate.”

“In your dreams, Dominic.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Funny, because I’m betting I’ll be in yours tonight.”

The weekend had barely started, and you already felt on edge, like you were navigating a minefield.

“Whatever,” You say, unpacking your things.

“Just saying, you know the clichè, right?” Dominic asks, plopping down on his bed.

You shake your head, “What are you even talking about?”

“The clichè— Where the two enemies forced to be together? By the end of it, they’re in love.”

You almost burst out laughing, “You’re delusional, Dom.”

“Everyone knows that’s how this works!”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, it works in books and movies. Not real life, which you seem to not live in, anyways.”

Dominic seemed determined to make this the most unbearable three days of your life, and the worst part was, you couldn’t shake the thrill of it.

—

The first night passed in silence, both of you avoiding eye contact as you got ready for bed.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N. Try not to wake up flustered.”

“Shut up.”

The room was so small that every little movement was noticed, every breath too loud.

You lay on your side, facing the wall, determined to ignore the fact that Dominic was just a few feet away. But in the silence, you could practically feel his presence, that maddening, familiar energy filling the room.

In the morning, things didn’t get any better. You were both tired, and it only took a sideways glance from him to set you off.

“Dominic,” you said, voice laced with warning as you passed him in the kitchen.

“What? I haven’t even said anything,” he replied, but his eyes gleamed with amusement.

“You don’t have to,” you shot back. “Your whole existence is enough to irritate me.”

“Good to know,” he replied, arching a brow, his voice low. “Seems like I’ve made an impact on you.”

The tension was getting thicker, and your friends couldn’t help but notice. They threw each other subtle, knowing looks as if they were all in on some inside joke.

—

By the second night, the snowstorm had hit hard, trapping everyone indoors with no signal and no escape.

You’d never been the kind of person who got easily bored, but being trapped with Dominic had a way of testing your patience.

Somehow, you’d all ended up playing a game of “truth or dare” — though, with Dominic around, it became less of a game and more of an excuse for him to test your limits.

“Truth,” you said, hoping for a harmless question from one of your friends.

But Dominic jumped in, his smirk unmistakable. “What’s one thing you actually like about me?”

You stared at him, momentarily thrown. “No, I’m not answering anything from you.”

Dominic scoffed, “Oh, c’mon, Y/N! That’s not fair, you asked, I answered.”

“No.”

“Yes,” He smirks, “Don’t be like this.”

You rolled your eyes, “Dominic, that’s not even a real question.”

“Oh, yes it is,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you. “And I’m genuinely curious. One good thing, that’s all I ask.”

Your friends laughed, but Dominic’s expression was all challenge. He knew you’d never say anything remotely kind about him — and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

After a moment of silence, you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. I guess you’re… persistent.”

“Persistent?” he echoed, brow raised. “That’s it?”

“That’s all you’re getting,” you replied, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

The boy groaned, obviously irritated at your answer, “Persistent. Right. That’s just code for ‘annoying,’ isn’t it?”

“Not everything’s about you,” you replied, tone sharp, though the heat from his gaze was already crawling under your skin. “Maybe it’s a compliment. Who knows?”

He chuckled, a low, grating sound. “You? Compliment me? Hell would freeze over before that.”

“Oh, trust me,” you shot back, “I’m regretting saying anything already.”

The game went on, but the room was thick with tension, a charged undercurrent that was impossible to ignore.

Every time Dominic looked your way, you felt it — like a daring challenge, a spark, something that neither of you were willing to acknowledge out loud.

The night dragged on with endless rounds of “truth or dare,” and each turn with Dominic somehow turned up the heat.

He was relentless, always choosing you to ask his questions, each one more infuriating than the last.

“Truth or dare?” he asked for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice smooth as silk, his gaze locked onto yours.

“Truth,” you answered, wary of whatever he’d throw at you next.

“What’s the worst thing about me?” he asked, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.

You scoffed, pretending to think. “Where the hell do I start?”

His eyes glinted, a mix of amusement and something darker, something that made your pulse race. “Try me. Hurt my feelings. Make me cry.”

“I’m not gonna make you cry,” You say, watching your friends get really good at being a laugh track.

“So there’s nothing bad about me then, huh? You seem to be avoiding this one.”

“You’re the most egotistical person I have ever met, you never take anything seriously, and you act like everyone’s here for your entertainment.”

Dominic nods his head, “Yeah, sounds about right.” He smirks right at you, “You know me so well…”

Something in you fueled you to keep going. Like this was the weight of his presence being lifted from your shoulders—

“You literally make me nauseous every time you enter the room, because I know we’re just gonna fucking argue. And it’s funny, because at one point— I never wanted to be without you! In fact, I hated every second we were apart!”

The room went silent, as all of your guys’ friends looked around at each other.

You sigh, “Now, it’s impossible for me to even breathe the same air as you. There. Happy?”

For a moment, you thought perhaps that was too much. Too harsh. That it could genuinely upset him.

But instead of being offended, he just grinned wider, leaning in closer. “You really think about me that much, huh? How romantic, Y/N, truly. I’m flattered!”

Your friends let out a collective “ooh,” but all you could focus on was Dominic’s gaze, so intense it was like the rest of the room had disappeared.

“Please,” you muttered, refusing to look away. “As if I’d waste time on that.”

“Waste time on me? Funny, you look pretty worked up for someone who doesn’t care,” he said, leaning back with a smug, self-satisfied look. “Or is this just some dramatic little act of yours?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Oh, I forgot, Mr. Ego here thinks he’s some great mystery worth unraveling.”

“Ouch. Here I was, thinking you’d have at least one nice thing to say about me. Or are you too proud to admit I might actually have some redeeming qualities?”

“Nice things?” You scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him. “Please, I don’t think ‘nice’ and ‘Dominic’ even belong in the same sentence.”

He chuckled, a low, dark laugh that seemed to echo in the space between you. “See, that’s what I like about you, Y/N. Always keeping it real. Just too bad it’s also what makes you insufferable.”

“Insufferable? That’s rich coming from your smug ass.” You shot back, leaning closer, feeling a mix of anger and something else, something you couldn’t quite name.

“Maybe so,” he replied, gaze darkening as he matched your stare. “But at least I’m honest about it… Can you say the same?”

Your friends let out another round of gasps and snickers, but neither of you broke eye contact.

The air was charged, as if neither of you were willing to back down first.

Then, he leaned in a fraction closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear.

“Careful, Y/N. Keep pushing like that, and who knows what you might find out.”

The challenge was there, thick and unspoken, and every nerve in your body seemed to hum with it.

“Trust me, Dom, I don’t need to know anything more than what I already do. And I’m not pushing. I’m pulling away as fast as I can.”

“Oh, really?” His voice was almost a murmur now, but it was edged with something hot and dangerous. “Could’ve fooled me.”

With that, he shot you one last infuriating smirk, leaning back like he hadn’t just raised the stakes, leaving you feeling like the whole room had started spinning.

—

Later that night, after everyone had drifted off to bed, you found yourself in the kitchen, unable to sleep. The quiet felt like a relief — until you heard footsteps, and Dominic appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

You shrugged, pouring yourself a glass of water. “Not with you in the same room.”

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing. I’m sorry, was I making you nauseous?”

“No, I just— I don’t know. I just can’t sleep.”

“Was my ego taking up too much space?” He asked, and it was then you realized. He was bringing up the answers you gave in the stupid game.

Was he actually upset?

Did you actually say things to hurt him?

“Dominic, what are you saying right now?”

For a moment, there was silence, a tension thick enough to cut. Then he surprised you by saying, “You know, that game got me thinking. You’re right, it wasn’t always like this between us.”

You frowned, caught off guard. “Yeah, I’m aware. What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looked down, his expression softening. “I don’t know. Back in high school, I actually thought… Well, I thought we could be something.”

You blinked, too stunned to respond immediately. He’d never been this honest, never even hinted at any real feelings. “What happened to that, then?”

He hesitated, looking out the window. “I don’t know. Things just changed. I was trying to figure myself out, the music was taking off… I guess I thought it’d be easier if I pushed you away.”

“That’s your excuse? Really, Dom?” you asked, anger bubbling up. “You just… gave up? And for what? To become this arrogant, self-absorbed version of yourself?”

“Maybe,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “But, maybe I just didn’t want to get hurt.”

“Did I actually hurt your feelings or something? What’s with you tonight?” You chuckled, wanting to believe that he wasn’t just doing all of this to make him forget about what could have been.

Dominic shrugged, “I mean, I definitely wasn’t expecting the answer you gave me. I don’t know, whatever,” He sighed, “Just forget it. Goodnight.”

He turned around to walk back to the room.

“Dominic—“ You start as he cut you off immediately, “You know what? Just sleep on the couch at this point, if it’s really that big of a deal to sleep in the same room as me.”

“Dom…” You said, with a tone that surprised you. A disappointed tone. Like you were upset… that Dominic seemed upset.

The small admission lingered in the kitchen, raw and vulnerable. And suddenly you realized, for the first time in years, you saw him differently — not as the arrogant musician who’d become a stranger, but as the boy you’d once known, the friend you’d once cared about.

—

The next morning, as everyone packed up their gear to go sledding, you found yourself walking beside Dominic, who seemed uncharacteristically quiet.

The snowstorm had died down, leaving the trees dusted with powder, the air crisp and fresh.

The group had decided on a steep hill for sledding, which quickly proved to be a mistake. One by one, your friends wiped out in spectacular fashion, laughing as they tumbled down the hill.

When it was your turn, Dominic joined you, grabbing a sled and flashing you a grin. “Scared?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Of sledding? Not a chance.”

With a push, the two of you shot down the hill, the sled picking up speed as it zipped over bumps and divots.

For a moment, you felt exhilarated, laughing as the cold wind whipped through your hair. But then the sled veered off course, heading straight for a small tree.

Without thinking, Dominic threw his arm around you, pulling you close as the sled came to a sudden halt. You landed in a heap in the snow, Dominic’s arms still around you, his face inches from yours.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The world seemed to go silent, the only sound your heavy breathing as you stared at each other. You felt your heart racing, but whether from the thrill of the sledding or the intensity of his gaze, you couldn’t say.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, barely trusting yourself to speak.

His face was so close, his eyes searching yours as if he were seeing you for the first time. And in that moment, something shifted — a spark, a connection you’d spent years ignoring.

But before you could make sense of it, he pulled back, clearing his throat as he helped you to your feet. “Guess I saved your life, huh?”

You scoffed, brushing snow off your coat. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

But as you walked back up the hill, your heart was still pounding, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time in years, things between you and Dominic were starting to change.

—

That night, back at the cabin, the tension between you and Dominic was impossible to ignore. You could feel his gaze on you as you sat by the fire, laughing with your friends, but every time you looked his way, he seemed to look away.

Eventually, as the night wore on, you found yourself alone with him again, this time on the back deck, watching the snow fall in silence.

“Do you actually hate me that much?” he asked, his voice low, almost challenging.

You blinked, taken off guard. “Why does it matter, Dom? Didn’t we already talk about this?”

He shrugged, looking away. “Maybe I’m curious. Maybe I just can’t figure out why you’re the only one who doesn’t seem to think I’m worth the time.”

“That’s on you, Dom,” you replied, your voice sharper than you’d intended. “You’re the one who changed.”

“And you’re the one who never gave me a chance to explain,” he shot back, stepping closer.

You crossed your arms, feeling a strange ache at his words. “Explain what? That you pushed me away on purpose? Do you even know how selfish that is?”

He paused, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. “You never gave me a chance to explain why I pushed you away. Why I… why things are like this between us.”

You stayed silent, heart pounding, daring him to go on. The unspoken tension, years of bitterness and misunderstandings, hung thick between you.

“Look,” he finally said, his voice softening. “I didn’t know how to handle it, alright? I didn’t know how to… deal with you, with us. I thought if I pushed you away, maybe it’d be easier. But it wasn’t.”

“What does that even mean? Deal with what?” The words escaped before you could stop them, heavy with every feeling you’d tried so hard to bury.

He took a shaky breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “Deal with the fact… that I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen.”

The confession hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you stunned, the silence between you loud and unbearable.

“Are you kidding me?” you whispered, fighting the sudden wave of anger and something else, something that felt too much like hope.

“No,” he replied, his voice steady, eyes never leaving yours. “I’m not kidding. And I’ve been an idiot about it. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, I’d get over it. But it just made everything worse.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. The boy who’d tormented you, infuriated you, had somehow harbored feelings you’d never known.

His gaze flickered down, his jaw tense as he struggled to find the words. “I thought it would be easier to let you go,” he admitted, his voice low. “Back then, everything was changing, and I was… scared. I was getting all this attention from my music, people wanting things from me, expecting me to be someone I didn’t even understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t want you to get dragged into that.”

You stared at him, disbelieving. “So instead of letting me be there for you, you pushed me away?”

He nodded, looking away as if the sight of your hurt expression was too much to bear. “I thought I could handle it on my own. But all it did was make me miss you… more than I ever thought I would.”

A silence stretched between you, raw and heavy.

He looked at you with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in years, and for the first time, you saw the Dominic you used to know, the one you’d once cared about so deeply it hurt.

“Do you have any idea what that was like for me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “One day, you’re there, the next, you’re gone. You were my best friend, Dom. My rock, my person,” You say, feeling yourself on the verge of tears, “You didn’t even give me a chance to understand that you weren’t there anymore. And now… you just expect me to forget that?”

His hand reached out, almost reflexively, to touch yours, and though you wanted to pull away, you couldn’t.

“I don’t expect you to forget, Y/N. What I did, I can’t even forgive myself for it. I just… I want to try and make things right. I’m tired of pretending like I hate you.”

You looked down at his hand, fingers brushing against yours, and felt the anger slipping, replaced by something else. “But, you hurt me, Dom,” you admitted, voice barely holding steady. “You hurt me in a way I didn’t think you could.”

The air between you grew thick, heavy with words unsaid and emotions neither of you knew how to voice.

He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart pound, and without thinking, you leaned into him, letting his warmth chase away the bitter chill of the night.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I know that will never be enough, but I am. I never meant to hurt you. I just… didn’t know how to deal with it — with you.”

“Deal with what, Dom? You keep saying that,” you repeated again, your voice softer now, searching his eyes. “What was it about me that you had to ‘deal with,’ Dominic? That you liked me? I’m just… I’m so confused, right now.”

He hesitated, his hand squeezing yours as he took a shaky breath. “That I wanted you, so badly,” he said finally, voice raw.

“More than just a friend, more than anything I’d ever let myself admit. I was terrified of what it’d mean if I let you get too close, because I am not a good person, Y/N. I’m fucked up, rude, and selfish, and I feel like… I’ve always been that way. I’ve always been the person you think I am today. And you didn’t deserve someone like that, not even as a friend.”

“Dominic…” You said softly, “I never thought you were a bad person…”

“But, I was, Y/N! I still am,” He pleads, “Look at what I did to us. Look at how badly I fucked things up between us. This is the first time in years we’ve had an actual conversation…”

He sighed, his expression open and raw. "I’m not kidding. I’ve tried to push it down, ignore it, even tell myself that maybe it wasn’t real. But every time I look at you—every time I see you laugh, every time you look at me with that fire in your eyes, I know it’s still there."

You could hardly believe what you were hearing.

The Dominic you’d come to know, with his arrogance, his endless teasing, the constant back-and-forth—it had all masked something so vulnerable, something so sincere, that it was hard to process.

"Why now, Dominic?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling despite yourself. "After all these years, all the arguments, all the things you’ve said, the way you’ve acted—why are you telling me this now?"

He looked away, his jaw tightening. "Because I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep pretending like I hate you, like I don’t feel anything when we argue, like I don’t care. And now, I just—" He paused, his gaze meeting yours. "I want you to know the truth, even if you hate me for it."

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in, all the bitterness and hurt somehow transformed into something else.

Something softer, something you’d long denied.

You didn’t know how long you both stood there, the air charged with the unspoken things between you.

"Dominic," you said quietly, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Maybe… maybe we both need to let go of what’s in the past. Because honestly, I’m exhausted too."

He watched you, a hint of hope in his eyes. "Does that mean—are you saying you might actually forgive me?"

You took a deep breath, the warmth of the cabin lights casting a glow over the snow-covered ground. "I’m saying maybe it’s time we stop running in circles. I’m saying maybe… I don’t hate you as much as I let on."

For the first time in years, Dominic’s smile wasn’t a smirk or a tease. It was soft, genuine, and it made your heart race.

He stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then let’s see where this goes, without the walls, without the defenses. Just us. A fresh start.”

You looked up at him, something in you finally letting go.

And as his hand brushed yours, it was like the years of tension, rivalry, and unspoken feelings melted away, leaving only the beginning of something real.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m asking you to give me a chance. To let me show you that I can be better. That I can be the person you deserve.”

You wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the bitterness, but his words cracked something inside you.

He looked at you like you were the only person in the world, and he always had. Even when you guys would argue, bicker, his eyes never showed anger. His eyes never lefts yours.

And in that moment, you realized that despite everything, you still cared.

You still wanted him, still wanted to believe that there was a part of him that hadn’t changed.

His confession hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat, pounding with emotions you weren’t sure how to process.

You could feel the weight of every missed opportunity, every moment you’d spent pushing each other away.

Before you could stop yourself, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that held years of pent-up frustration, hurt, and longing.

He responded instantly, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close, deepening the kiss with an urgency that took your breath away.

For a moment, the world fell away, and all that mattered was the feel of him against you, the way his fingers tangled in your hair, the warmth of his mouth as it moved against yours, desperate and tender all at once.

It was as if every argument, every insult, had been leading up to this, the intensity of it all crashing over you like a wave.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, his eyes were on you, filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“I just… I didn’t realize how much I needed you,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours. “Until it was too late.”

You took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the weight of his words, the truth they carried. “Then maybe it doesn’t have to be too late,” you whispered back, fingers brushing against his cheek.

He looked at you, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips. Without a word, he led you back inside, your fingers laced together as if he were afraid to let you go.

—

Back in the quiet of your shared room, he hesitated for a moment, as if unsure if you’d let him stay this close. But you tugged him closer, pulling him onto the bed beside you, feeling his warmth seep into you as you settled beside him.

Neither of you said anything, the silence filled with an unspoken understanding, a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in years. You rested your head against his shoulder.

“You still think the clichè only happens in books and movies?” Dominic asks, as you feel his hand slide around your waist, pulling you close.

You smile softly, “Shut up, idiot.”

“Mhm, you know that’s not true…”

Without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was slow, hesitant, filled with years of unsaid words and buried feelings. His hand came up to cradle your face, his touch gentle.

It just felt so right.

When you pulled away, his eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. He pressed his forehead to yours, his thumb tracing slow circles along your jaw.

You lay back down beside him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

“Again, I’m not asking you to forgive me right now, or forget what happened,” he whispered. “But I’m asking you to give me a try.”

You nodded, a silent promise that you’d give him — give both of you — a chance to heal, to find your way back to each other.

For now, that was enough.

#dominic fike #dominic fike fan fiction #dom fike #elliot euphoria #euphoria #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike imagines #my writing #dominic fike x you #requests #requests open

44 notes · View notes

reishifts · 3 months ago

Text

SHIFTING ATTEMPT! — diary.

monday, 28th october 2024: so i thought it‘d be a good idea to document my shifting attempts to know what‘s right and what‘s wrong for me. keep in mind i have minishifted twice to parallel realities long ago for very very short amount of times but after i kinda lost hope and allat but now i‘m back and damn! and i wanted to ask if someone know what all this meant?

okay so during the day i was watching the harry potter movies (as i‘m shifting there) and i‘ve been fixing my script and watching success and motivational videos or posts on yt, tt, tumblr, amino etc. everywhere where you can find them. i was very happy bc i have fall break and i finished all of my chores and took care of myself so i had nothing to worry about, making me more excited to shift. (don’t worry, you don’t need to do anything during the day or sth to shift)

then i put in my airpod (i only have one…) and i put on a guided meditation. sadly idk what happened i suddenly fell asleep and woke up with my airpod gone in the middle of the night and i looked at my phone and the meditation stopped at exactly 14:14. plus i had two extremely vivid dreams of my dr. now i feel the need to share these dreams.

then, i woke up in the middle of the night and after i saw that i just put on a subliminal and i went to bad, tho my brother was going to work and he was really loud so he made my dreams go weird idk you’ll see. what’s crazy for me is that in this extremely vivid dream, i had everything i‘m manifesting/desiring in my cr.

to sum up, i think these dreams were confirmation for both my shifting and manifestation journey.

THE DR DREAMS.

the first one was kinda weird like, as i‘m not shifting for a specific s/o i just have two options in mind (tom riddle and theo nott) and i‘m not shifting just for them, i was confused that i dreamed this. we were like on the courtyard but the vibe was very.. sad? not even sad it felt depressing, plus it was also really dark outside. i was with tom and it felt like we’ve been friends for sososo long but we’ve always had feelings for each other. we liked each other so much, it hurt. he then kissed me but i was disappointed, i was sad? bc it took him so long to kiss me and he kissed me so weirdly and idk my emotions just bottled up and i started crying LMAO i felt the tear on my cheek litr. but then he kissed me again and we talked it out and then idk. maybe that was a sign that i‘ll date him in my dr.

second dream of my dr was very short but i was kinda running through the halls but also like where you were able to see the couryard. i didn’t see myself from my own perspective so i don’t know what that was.

THE CR DREAM.

i don’t really remember what happened first or the chronological order, so it was very messy.

in my cr i am currently manifesting a SP (= specific person) and i dreamed he suddenly was near me all the time, like basically we were always at the same place at the same time. exactly what i‘m manifesting here. i did so much embarrassing stuff, and he didn’t show less interest either. (also what i’ve been worrying about in my cr) then suddenly my mother saw his mother and they talked to each other and i sat down next to my mum but i wasn’t able to see him because he was like around the corner. (note: my mum knows about him irl and she wants me to be with him so bad -> i manifested an interaction btw our families before and found out our dads work together) then again in the same dream i was in my class room because this whole dream happened in my school for some reason and this boy in my class kept making fun of me bc i wore a ponytail and idk what he was saying lmao and then my SP came in (he’s not in my class but i’ve visualized him coming into my classroom multiple times bc he’s friends with one of my male friends) and they talked and someone made a dirty joke about me and he just laughed. then the boy made fun of me again and he just said: ”and? she looks beautiful“ and that’s exactly what i manifested him to do too !!!!! but then the dream turned out weird bc of my brother and it turned into a horror movie but the way my brain was able to do all this shocks me, idk why.

22 notes · View notes

typenonsense · 7 days ago

Text

very interesting to me that the seasons in which skizz was the most violent and the most successful as a killer were the two seasons in which he was a follower, not a leader

SHIT i was writing a lot about this in the tags but I had too many so ill write it here. disclaimer it’s not v succinct it’s just a lot of thoughts haha

FASCINATING to me. Like, I don’t think he’s a bad leader. I think he’s charismatic and confident and he always has the group’s best interests in heart and mind so he can (usually. see last life) support his friends and work with them as a unit. But as a leader he has to watch himself and not make any reckless decisions. Everyone is depending on him.

But in 3rd life where he follows Ren as a leader and in wild life where they didn’t really have a leader (if you say they did it would be Grian) he didn’t have that pressure on him. His job was to stay alive and follow orders, serving his team however he can. He still supports them, but in these situations where they don’t rely on him he has more freedom to show his devotion, and in a death game? The best way to help your team is through killing for them. He also worries about his life less because it’s less integral to the team’s survival.

There’s also specifics on the reasons why he couldn’t kill in the seasons where he was a leader:

The thing with last life is that when he turned red he (as all reds did) had to leave. He was forcibly separated from his team. He couldn’t lead them anymore and there wasn’t really any way he could support them, especially with the mental disconnect of very suddenly being alone or with someone who was an enemy just yesterday. It doesn’t compute for someone as loyal as him. I don’t think there was a way in which he could just get over that and kill, especially since his priority still lay with protecting them and he continued wanting to lead them (see the BEST hair AUGHHHH).

Skipping to secret life - his team was vulnerable when they turned red. They were well aware they were one of the weakest teams combat-wise and Tango could’ve died from a gust of wind. BigB was better off but he wasn’t much of a fighter either. I think Skizz, as the leader, saw he needed to protect his boys and keep them together. He couldn’t be reckless otherwise they’d die too. He just needed to help them survive.

Limited life is a very interesting season in this because I’d argue Skizz puts himself into a leader role more here than anywhere else and it’s also the season in which he has the most struggle with killing and he knows it.

His team are competent and they’re trying to eliminate their opposition and he wasn’t able to help much at all. It could be that BECAUSE his team is doing so well he’s focusing just on leading them but it really can’t be because he’s very obviously upset he’s not helping. If it is that it’d be more subconscious and would play into his vulnerability and inferiority complex I’d argue he has in liml, but that’s a different post lmao. So a very simplified version of it - he’s has an overall very bad time in liml and the only thing he gets right are his leadership and charisma (+ his duel with Bdubs iirc haha) so that psychological effect that that’s the only thing going well for him kinda continues and becomes realer.

In liml it’s less like his role as leader invites his poor combat performance and decreased penchant for violence like SL (and to an extent LL - I don’t think he’d be much better off if he were a follower - the ‘reds must leave’ situation was just overall bad for him haha), but the other way round - his misfortune and everything going wrong for him encourages him to take up the leader role.

#anyways endlessly fascinating to me #also writing this made me realise i need to watch his liml again because it’s such an interesting season for him #he has so much going on actually #SKIZZLEMANNNNN #thinking about him in the life series literally forever. im all about all of his seasons #skizzposting #types types #do i maintag this? ah well might as well #skizzleman

13 notes · View notes

otaku553 · 7 months ago

Note

omg pjsk fan?? whats your fav song (chart-wise) and fav character??? maybe fav band if you have one?

Piano forte scandal is the only one of these that I’ve full combo’d and I specifically enjoy it a lot because it’s a lot of very consistent tapping with minimal sliders and flicks I think. Honestly feel like it should be a 29 for now nice it is

Jinsei is just fun for some reason? The slow portion is almost always a combo killer but the fast tapping portions have some very nice satisfying patterns. Closest I’ve come to FCing is 2 misses I think

Invisible is difficult but it’s also a song I used to listen to a lot so some of the patterns just come intuitively with that lmao. Also the beginning part is fun.

I have sooooo many more favorites I’ve been a vocaloid fan since like,, middle school so I know a lot of the songs. But these are the ones I’m most actively trying to clear rn probably

Past this point I’m just going to be rambling so here we go:

I’m very bad at picking favorites but if I had to say favorite character, probably Rui? I can probably write an essay on it but I enjoy how his dynamic with the group has developed and how despite how he comes across at first as a crazy genius type he’s actually incredibly considerate of safety and his group’s wellbeing. He strikes an excellent middle ground between characters in excitement and the creativity born from that as well as rationality and knowing when to tone things down

And then for favorite band, I honestly Cannot Choose between wondershow and n25. Wondershow is excellently well-balanced and I can see clear dynamics and foils in pretty much every possible pairing or trio in the group, as well as in the group as a whole. They’re very good also at balancing humor and angst along with plenty of character development— I’ve heard people cite emu as a weak point in the group but honestly emu holds quite strong as her own character with the dreamers event and her ambitions/motivations and traumas!

And nightcord, though focusing really strongly on Mafuyu, is also pretty excellently written imo. It doesn’t seem like it at first I think with the main storyline and the sort of “oh no she’s going off to produce her own music because she wants to be alone” sort of thing and they sort of are a bit cheesy about their depiction of mafuyu’s depression at time but the events have really fleshed out her conflict very well. I think what gets me about nightcord is that their later depiction of the relationship between mafuyu and her mother is scarily realistic, all the way down to the manipulation tactics her mother uses against her to make her decisions seem like her own choice and not something her mother has railroaded her into. It’s the way that mafuyu’s mother seems to never do anything out of malice, but out of a genuine desire for her daughter to grow up successful and satisfied with her life, while her daughter never pushes back because she’s been conditioned to never do so since childhood, so her mother never gets that crucial feedback to stop pushing, eventually breaking mafuyu in the process.

Idk I wasn’t a big fan of their early writing for mafuyu but they’ve built her up to the point that she is scarily relatable in how she’s grown up to become lost and directionless and you just can’t help but root for their friend group and hope that the support system they’re building for mafuyu works out. I think that really is what project sekai’s writing excels in: making friend groups that have realistic dynamics and that act as strong support systems. It’s kind of therapeutic to watch them interact with each other and help each other out

#ask tag #project sekai

43 notes · View notes

eggymf-archived · 2 years ago

Text

of paper planes and wildflowers; 01

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, chaotically embarrassing situations, mild dubcon, aphrodisiac, feeble attempt at ominis slander for plot(?) purposes, not proofread, unedited

chapter summary: from teenage gossips to formulating random drinks together with your best friend, everything goes completely awry in the most unexpectedly worst way possible.

word count: 4k

a/n: i wrote this during 1 am in the morning after a mental breakdown lmao what’s good D:

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

“That’s the seventh time you sighed in the last five minutes.”

You grumbled in response at Natsai’s observation, dropping your forehead flat on the table with a distinct thud, much to Madam Scribner’s chagrin who harshly shushed you with a matching glare. Natsai gave the said librarian an apologetic look before turning towards you again with concern.

"Probably ‘cause of her mum again, I reckon,” Garreth piped, flipping his book to the next page as he scribbled down on his rolled-out parchment. You shuddered in response, recalling that damned Howler you received from your mother prior this week when she found out you had landed yourself in detention with Garreth again. Your mother expected great academic success from you and for you to behave yourself, especially during this year when you’ll be taking your OWLs.

“I’m sure you’ll do great for your OWLs. Despite the trouble you get yourself into, you always excel in your studies anyway,” Natsai comforted, rubbing your shoulder as you let out yet another sigh. Yes, you were having problems with your mum’s incessant reminder of picking a career path, and yes, you were tremendously feeling pressured about acing your OWLs. But there was another problem: a huge one in fact - so huge you couldn’t even tell your two close friends about it.

“I’ll be fine, you two. I just have a lot in my mind lately,” you mumbled, laying your cheek flat on the surface of the table while staring at an empty table from the distance.

“I’d say. You’ve been on the edge eversince that potions incident,” Garreth pointed out, earning a fairly loud snort from you.

“Which potions incident, Garreth? Last time I checked, you’ve had a total of three incidents this month,” you teased.

“Oh shush. It wasn’t that bad!” the ginger-haired Gryffindor laughed. “I’m talking about that one drink we concocted around two to three weeks ago. The one that you drank?”

Your cheeks slightly pinked at the memory: of course you remember that incident. It was the main reason that has caused you to get stuck in this infernal situation, after all.

“Pretty sure it's not the potion, Garreth. I’m assuming this is just my academic stress finally getting to me,” you dismissively reasoned, thus dropping the subject to concentrate on each of your respective tasks.

You half-expected your 5th year to be like the usual: focusing on your studies, literally brewing mischief and greatness with Garreth, sneaking out of the castle grounds to “practice” your duelling (extracurricular activities, as you’d like to call it) with Natsai occasionally tagging along, and so much more. Aside from the utter chaos that was presently occurring within the wizarding world, who would’ve thought that your life would also end up being in a state of frenzy.

You shouldn’t have had that particular conversation with Garreth back then. You shouldn’t have drank that damned potion either. But in your defense, you wouldn’t have tried anything weird from the ginger-haired boy unless you actually helped him with the concoction. You’re pretty well-versed with various ingredients, priding yourself to be both book smart and pro-active in collecting various ingredients from the highlands yourself. But alas you were still a student - a silly little student making silly little mistakes. Somewhere along the process of making that certain concoction, you had messed up the calculations of the ingredients’ ratio - something that would prove to be rather grave on your part.

You and Garreth were hanging out together at the Transfiguration Courtyard after class, the both of you discussing several ingredient combinations as usual. While he scribbled notes on a piece of parchment during the ongoing conversation, you were practicing non-verbal spellcasting for simple charms. However, the conversation took a different turn when you noticed Garreth’s voice slowly faltering as a certain housemate of yours passed by while carrying several thick books. You smirked in realization, calling out the ebony-haired female. Garreth elbowed you harshly, giving you a half-hearted glare. The female turned and smiled towards the both of you in acknowledgment before heading off.

“Blimey, Garreth. Samantha Dale?” you asked, causing him to flush bright pink. “Since when?”

“Last year during potions. That time when Sharp made her switch places with you,” he admitted, causing you to teasingly snicker.

“W-what? It’s not like you haven’t had a crush!” he sputtered.

“I hate to disappoint you but no, I haven’t,” you deadpanned.

“Tell you what, let me ask you this question instead. If you were given the choice, who would you snog in our year?”

“Garreth Weasley, I am NOT answering that!”

“I’ll get the answers right out of you whether you like it or not and you know it. Is it Amit?”

“No.”

“Is it me?”

You slapped his arm in response, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll take that as a no. Leander?”

“I’d rather get kissed by a dementor.”

“Touché. Perhaps Sebastian?”

“Have you seen how he looks at the new 5th year? Poor lad looks like a lovesick crup puppy it makes me sick.”

Garreth paused, deep in thought. His lips curled into a smug grin.

Oh no. This isn’t good.

“Ominis Gaunt?”

A pregnant silence ensued, your expression utterly mortified. Garreth guffawed at your bewildered state, running away from you as you chased him down. Your face was a bright shade of red - whether it is out of embarrassment, denial, realization, or the fact that you were greatly offended by the mere suggestion, Garreth has already arrived to his own conclusion. He was absolutely never going to live this down. After all, you were normally straightforward especially when it came to your preferences: your hesitation was already an obvious sign to the answer.

Tomfoolery aside, Garreth knew you didn’t really like Ominis. To you, Ominis was a sardonic little gossip. Whenever something of note had occurred and anyone involved passes by, he would often quip about their little secrets or actions alongside his unsolicited opinions. His reputation as a Gaunt also played a part as to why you steered clear of him as much as possible: they were proud, volatile, discriminatory, and has a long history with dark magic.

Everyone in Hogwarts always say that it was impossible for secrets to be kept within the castle walls. If the castle walls have ears, then one of those set of ears most likely belonged to Ominis himself. Unfortunately, that would prove to be a correct statement for your particular little case: a certain male with a particularly strong sense of hearing might’ve picked up on your conversation with Garreth earlier.

“Are you sure about this?” Garreth asked as you grabbed the phial from the potions table. “You don’t need to be the test subject, you know? We could just get other people to try it out.”

The concoction that you’ve been working on together with Garreth now rests in your hand. The both of you haven’t named it yet, but it was supposed to stimulate the mind to focus better and to give its drinker an energy boost. Given how stressed you are with your academic subjects and the fact that you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown, you didn’t really care as long as the potion did something to improve your performance.

“It’s the weekend tomorrow, Garreth. If this goes wrong, I have two days tops to get better. I doubt I’ll even need to go to the hospital wing though,” you reassured, taking a sip. The liquid was fizzy, tasted like sherbet lemons, and it brought a pleasant little buzz at the back of your head after a while. Garreth stared at you expectantly.

“Well...?”

“Hmm. So far, so good. We’ll see what happens for the rest of the day,” you said.

“Grand. I’ll see you later then!”

You and Garreth headed off to your own respective classes. You headed off to the Transfiguration Classroom, feeling increasingly invigorated as the potion took its effect bit by bit. You were rather proud of the concoction you and Garreth had made. It felt as if you chugged a vial of Felix Felicis - nothing would ever go wrong for the day and luck was definitely on your side.

“Hopefully this little boost lasts until I’m done with all my assignments,” you mumbled to yourself as you entered the Transfiguration Classroom, sitting at one of the vacant desks. Your classmates began to pour in, occupying the remaining seats while you flipped through the pages of your textbook, mulling over the possible lesson for today. Right as Professor Weasley left her office to enter the classroom, the classroom doors barged open revealing the flushed faces Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt.

“Ah, you two are just in time. Please take your seats,” Professor Weasley said. The two panting boys complied, heading to the remaining vacant seats, which was the one right beside you and the other was beside Cressida Blume. The opal-eyed male opted to occupy the one beside you, much to your hidden distress. You were thankful that you didn’t have Garreth as a classmate here - it would’ve been a nightmare seeing his smug little grin and him occasionally making kissy faces to mock the remaining patience right out of your entire being.

Thankfully, the class was rather uneventful aside from a brief lecture and all of you trying out the Vanishing Spell on several objects. You kept stealing not-so-secret glances at the boy beside you as he made his own attempts, flawlessly executing the spells within a few tries. As much as you hated to admit it, the Gaunts truly did have their own unique allure. Ominis was one of the living proofs - he looked quite elegant and easy on the eyes compared to most of the guys in your year: milky blue eyes, alabaster skin, beauty marks, and dirty blonde hair that was always neatly-styled. He was someone that people would most likely stare at out of admiration.

“You know I can feel you staring at me, right?”

Until he opens his mouth, that is.

“Hmm? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you deadpanned, causing his lips to curl into a knowing smirk. You didn’t like that a single bit, and you wanted this class to end so that you could go about your merry little way avoiding the Gaunt as you always did.

“...On that note, I’ll be assigning you all into pairs. Your partners for this assignment are your current seatmates: I’ll be expecting a 6-inch essay compilation of the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell by next week. Class dismissed.”

Your face fell.

“Is there something the matter?” Professor Weasley asked, noticing your rather upfront reaction. You shook your head vehemently, earning a couple of snorts and giggles from your classmates. You quickly shut your textbook and got up.

“Catch you around. Try compose yourself the next time we sit together, won’t you?” Ominis mocked jokingly as he left. You pointedly stared at his retreating back, silently quelling your mild annoyance.

For the most part, you stayed out of trouble for the entire day, focusing on your assignments and catching up on advanced self-studying. The drink proved to be quite a success so far - it was nearly as effective as an Invigorating Draught, and it helped you sort out the tricky bits from your assignments without contemplating on it way too much. You’ve been holed up in the library eversince your last period, and you still felt quite energetic. The library was getting more and more empty, with students opting to go to the Great Hall for their dinners or back to their common rooms. Meanwhile you just got out of the Transfiguration Section after getting the necessary reference books for that blasted compiled essay due next week.

Suddenly, you felt your head throb, causing you to drop the books rather unceremoniously on the table. Good thing Madam Scribner wasn’t nearby or she would’ve chided you for not handling school property with care. You uncapped the phial of the concoction, chugging the last remaining contents. Perhaps the effect was lessening hence the sudden dizzying headache.

Oh but you were dead wrong. It got worse.

You felt your body heat up uncomfortably as your senses began to get more heightened - your breathing is now labored, your clothes felt unbelievably scratchy against your skin, and you felt that oh so familiar sinful tingling in between your legs. Panicked, you glanced around the library, seeing if there’s anyone nearby. You clenched your legs shut almost painfully, trying to steady your erratic breathing and heartbeat.

“Alright, self. Calm down. As long as nobody sees you like this--”

You were snapped out of your inner monologue with an oh-so-familiar posh-toned voice jolting you back into reality.

“Thought I might find you here. About that assignment...”

You inwardly screamed in sheer horror and embarrassment, cursing the bad luck that had befallen your poor self. Ominis sat right beside you, blissfully unaware of your current predicament. You couldn’t even comprehend what the male was saying to you: you were gripping your skirt tightly and biting your lower lips all in a great effort to suppress anything that might be a dead giveaway to your situation. Ominis, however, was a lot more astute than you expected. His eyebrows furrowed, immediately sensing that something was up.

“Why are you holding your breath?”

Fuck.

“O-oh. Uh... I-I was? W-well I-”

“What’s going on with you?” Ominis asked rather harshly. You gulped, trying your best to keep the last bits of sanity in your brain intact. According to your nether regions, Ominis sounded absolutely ravishing when he talks like that, and the remaining rationality within your mind refuses to accept that depraved notion.

You almost moaned out loud when he touched your forehead with the back of his hand. He, however, wasn’t looking too amused with how unusual you were acting. Ominis frowned, looking rather offended for getting him caught up in this awkward situation. He got up, getting ready to leave.

“W-wait!” you cried out, tugging at the sleeve of his robes while looking at him with pleading eyes. “P-please help me...”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk gracing his lips at your begging tone. He turned back towards you, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh? And why should I do that?” he sneered.

“Please I... I think I might’ve ingested an a-ah...!”

“A what?”

“...Aphrodisiac...” you breathed out, shameful tears welling up in your eyes.

Ominis was mortified, a dark shade of pink flushing his usually pale complexion. He cleared his throat while loosening up his necktie in an attempt to diffuse his bashfulness. An aphrodisiac problem was certainly the last thing he would’ve expected from you.

“So you want me to help you... Because you might’ve ingested an aphrodisiac?” he asked, still finding the situation beyond belief.

You sobbed in response, nodding furiously. You felt so utterly humiliated that you were actually on the verge of wailing on the spot. You couldn’t think straight, you were a mess down there, and you were trying your absolute best to get the situation in control. You didn’t want to go to the hospital wing, nor were you even planning to tell Garreth or Natsai about this unfortunate side effect. Your common room wasn’t an option too because it’s a shared dormitory and the Ravenclaw tower was simply too far. Hell, this was one of the worst situations you could ever find yourself in, and there was absolutely no way Ominis would agree to this madness.

Honestly, you just wanted to stay in a more secluded place to wait for the effects to die out. However, you had no idea where to go and you were desperate enough to ask even Ominis himself.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when he stood up and leaned towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his misty blue eyes while his other hand rested on the table surface behind you to support his weight.

“Are you sure you want me to do it?” he breathed. You blushed at the question, your sobs slowly quieting down as you drank the sight of him under the cold moonlight peering from the arched windows.

He was so frustratingly beautiful. So fucking ethereal.

“... Y-yes,” you gulped shakily. “P-please.”

Wait. Do what? What’s fucking happening? What the fuck did I agree on?!

He hummed in response, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Hmm. Perhaps you do want to snog me after all,” he murmured before planting his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you instantly melted into the softness of his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted you from your seat, making you sit on the table. However, the both of you were interrupted by the sound of heels clacking on the wooden floor. You and Ominis quickly got up, hiding behind one of the nearby bookcases.

Madam Scribner came up to the table, frowning. She grabbed the now haphazardly-placed reference books from the table, tutting about how irresponsible students are with handling books before walking off.

You and Ominis remained still, listening intently at Madam Scribner’s now dying footsteps. As soon as the exit door was opened and then shut close, Ominis captured your lips once again, pushing you towards the nearest table. The both of you were frantically scrambling, attempting to remove each other’s cloaks while remaining in a passionate lip lock. You sat on the table as soon as you felt the edge of the table top hit the back of your thigh, spreading your legs apart to pull Ominis much closer to you.

For some odd reason, having Ominis Gaunt right in between your legs felt so fucking right. Your head spun with lustful desire, taking in his addicting scent: a faint combination of patchouli, sandalwood and spearmint candy. He gave one of your breasts a firm squeeze while his tongue intruded your mouth, to which you gladly received by lightly suckling on the wet appendage, earning a groan from him. Ominis ground his hips against yours instinctively, brushing his now visible erection against your still clothed privates.

His lips then began trailing down from your lips to your jawline, latching itself on a sensitive spot at the crook of your neck. You mewled, teasingly trailing your feet along the back of his legs, finally locking your legs around his hips to further push himself harder against your heated core. His hands harshly gripped your ankles in response, your inner thighs quivering in anticipation as he deftly unclasped your Mary Janes. You kicked them off rather impatiently, slightly raising your hips up as Ominis reached underneath your skirt for the waistband of both your tights and knickers, slowly peeling the article of clothing off your legs.

“Bend over for me,” he growled against your ear, to which you happily complied as you leaned over the table while lifting your skirt up. You shuddered both in delight and relief as the cool air hit the skin of your warm lower regions. Ominis traced a finger on your exposed slit, groaning as globs of your honey-like essence coated his digit.

“Merlin, you’re fucking soaked...” he moaned, inserting his finger inside your hole, earning a breathy gasp from you as your legs trembled in wanton delight. You felt your juices trickle down your legs as Ominis added another finger inside your core, pumping his digits in and out of you at an increasing speed. You whimpered, slapping your hand over your mouth at the brutality of his fingers. With how sensitive your body was, it wouldn’t take long until you had your sweet release.

Much to your disappointment, Ominis retracted his fingers away from your heat, licking your juices off his fingers. He groaned at your sweet taste while you sobbed in frustration, swaying your rear as your legs trembled at the lack of stimulation. Ominis swiftly unbuttoned his pants, tugging on the waistband of his briefs to free his painfully erect shaft. You let out a surprised whimper upon feeling the blunt head of the thick appendage stroke itself against your weeping slit, lubricating itself before it dove right into your awaiting pussy with little to no resistance. Your back arched instinctively at the sudden intrusion as you gasped blissfully in sheer unadulterated pleasure.

“A-ah..! F-fuck yes! Mmph..!” you cried out. Ominis slapped a hand against your mouth while the other pinned one of your wrists against your lower back as he plowed his cock inside your pussy.

“Best to keep it down, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want us to get caught now, do you?” he panted, thrusting deep and fast as you mindlessly moaned with absolutely no shame against his hand. He was right - there were enchanted portraits nearby, wandering ghosts, and prefects right outside the library after all. The thought of someone walking in at any minute made your walls clench, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the alabaster-skinned male as he relished in the spasms and flutters of your inner walls, his cock twitching in pleasure.

“Oh, you are absolutely vile!” he chuckled darkly, slowing himself down momentarily yet still thrusting as deep as he could. You swore your knees almost gave out as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

“You’re quite the filthy little whore, aren’t you? It’s almost as if you want to get caught,” he mocked as your knees shook. You sobbed pathetically with pleasure-filled tears running down your face. He yanked your upper body closer to his, letting his hands wander shamelessly on your curves while peppering the column of your neck with bites and kisses. You blissfully sighed, intoxicated with all the sensations happening on your body all at once. Your bleary eyes widened as his cock brushed against a spot within your weeping hole, your mouth hanging ajar in a loud gasp which caused Ominis to smirk against your neck. He slammed your body back on the table, your breasts flat against the table surface as he aimed for the spot precisely with swift, merciless strokes.

Ominis was absolutely delirious as he listened to the debauched symphony of your helplessly submissive little yelps and moans, wet skin slapping against each other, the sound of the table rocking against the hardwood floors, his own erratic breathing and occasional groans whenever he felt your walls flutter around his swollen member. This was now his new guilty pleasure: reducing his normally put-together, top-achieving, goody-two-shoes of a classmate into nothing but a slut who’s hungry for only his cock. Something about that mere thought completely disintegrates his last remaining shred of principles and rationality in the moment as he mindlessly chased his high, sinful fantasies filling his presently depraved, pussy-drunk mind.

“F-fuck! I... I’m cumming! I’m cumming-!” you babbled as your walls clenched unbelievably tight around his cock, causing Ominis to hiss in pleasure as he pulled out of your quivering hole, pumping his member desperately as spurts of milky white semen landed on your labia. The both of you stilled for a moment, breathless and completely fucked-out.

Ominis quickly tucked his now softening member back into his pants and tidied himself up while you shakily got up from the poor table. You groaned, feeling a slight pain in between your legs as you conjured a clean cloth with your wand, wiping away any stray bodily fluids from your lower regions before vanishing the object away. Ominis leaned against the opposite bookshelf as you put your panties and tights back on, crossing his arms. You glanced at him as you sat on the table, clasping your shoes back on. He was still as pristine as ever, as if your recent activities had never even happened.

“Prefects should be gone by now. Will you be alright going back to your common room alone?” he asked.

“I think so,” you replied, grimacing slightly at the dull throb of your worn-out hole. Ominis hummed, walking towards the staircase leading to the library exit with his wand up, the tip blinking its signature red light.

“Oh, and Gaunt?”

“Yes?”

“Nothing happened here, alright?”

chapter 2: what a mess! 🔞 >

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis x you #ominis smut #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy smut

284 notes · View notes

cancerian-woman · 1 year ago

Text

Tyler Lockwood discourse and “excuse” for how fans view him as worthless or unneeded is that his plotline ended in season 3/4 is so…wrong lmao. Tyler was not only the first introduction to werewolves/Lockwood legacy but he was Klaus’ first successful hybrid. But, no it would’ve been too much to center a plot on Tyler that has nothing to do with Caroline or Klaus. Tyler became an alpha, those hybrids trusted and respected him. Okay, then those hybrids were killed Tyler could’ve formed another pack. They can do more with wolf-related plotlines they just had to write those. Look at Hayley who was praised and worshipped as this werewolf Crescent Queen after she helped plot and kill those hybrids…but TO doesn’t acknowledge that ever. Supernatural world gossip spreads but that somehow never made it to the bayou…anyways…

The problem relies Forwood, Klaroline, Steroline and a bit of Klayley equally. Mainly Caroline and Klaus/Stefan’s popularity. Season 1/2 Caroline was ignorant as hell and disliked by most of her peers. Why? She always had something negative to say about everyone. Plus, her mental feud with Elena. So Caroline dates Matt who treats her terribly and isn’t over Elena. Then she’s placed with Tyler, she “changes” after this vampire transition. Forwood is equally new in being a vampire/werewolf. It’s easy to support them when Caroline is there as he transitions into a wolf. Shes not just this jealous raged teenage girl! She has feelings and emotions! Caroline’s sweet, caring, and protective these are reasons people should like Caroline. Most of time fans argue that Caroline was better as a vampire than she ever was as a human. Now, insert Klaroline and Klaus. Klaus gets to enforce power and control over Tyler. He enslaves him repeatedly, and constantly threatens his life. Tyler knows he can’t win against Klaus but he refuses to live by Klaus rules. Richard Lockwood, his abusive major daddy had already made his life hell by giving him standards to live by and abusing him.

Now this is getting long. But, Caroline gets to “see the good in Klaus” they get to have all these “moments” about nothing at all. Tyler isn’t there and unfortunately YES on Caroline’s end Tyler does look bad for being away but Caroline understood this and for awhile was the only person who got Tyler. Until, she didn’t the plot worked its way so we can uplift and praise Caroline in all her vampire girl-boss goodness! But, paint Tyler in a bad view. Klaroline was pulled out of the writers ass, there was no build-up and it’s often forgotten that Klaus intended to sacrifice both Caroline and Tyler but somehow someway Klaus is obsessed with this baby vampire lmao. But, “Tyler doesn’t love Caroline! He’s never there.” It’s not that Tyler didn’t want to be there, he was being treated like a slave. If the writers really and truly wanted to push Klaroline they could’ve done so without using Tyler. He wasn’t around anyways so what would’ve been the excuse? Klaroline wasn’t the plan but mildly benefits from mistreating Tyler/Michael Trevino and Kat Graham but pen in that.

Tyler’s entire family dies and we see Caroline comfort him through Carol’s death which Tyler fully blames himself for. Caroline gets this until she didn’t. She places an ultimatum over Tyler’s head. He chooses to leave, and it’s even a bigger nail on the head for the fandom. Tyler’s trying to kill Hayley and Hope. Which is ignored that Tyler intended on saving the werewolves as a species because Klaus DID continue to enslave and pick up werewolves turning them into hybrids for his own gain. Caroline sleeps with Klaus Tyler’s pissed and tries to keep contact at a minimum. You have Stefan in her ear all the time making comments about how Tyler’s violent towards her and all around a terrible person. When Tyler never abused her. Klaus was even in Caroline’s ear making her think Tyler cheated when that was never the case.

Tyler was used and needed for Caroline’s development and heavily plays a huge roll in her popularity. But, she doesn’t give half of that for him. In fact Forwood/Klaroline/Klayley and Steroline all functioned as a death to Tyler’s character. More so KC & Steroline ruined what good foundation Tyler did have. If Hayley could be some werewolf queen in TO. Tyler could’ve been hailed as a king in own bloodline. He could’ve found another group of friends to see as family. Jackson is a very similar character to Tyler. Lastly, Michael Trevino said for years that Klaroline was/is the issue with Tyler’s development.

side note: i forgot to add I firmly believe Caroline remains jealous of Elena throughout the entire show and expected Tyler to act the way Damon/Stefan does when Elena did something that was “bad” in their POV.

#Tyler Lockwood #tvd going on longer than it needed too is not why Tyler is so vastly hated lol #the writers used Tyler to uplift Caroline and once she got that fan favorite role they lessened him and made him Klaus slave #he could’ve done more had the plot allowed him to exist out of Caroline #leave my son alone lmao! marking Ty’s tag as another one i stay out of bc chile lmao #anti forwood #anti klaroline #anti klayley #anti hayley Marshall #anti Klaus Mikaelson #anti caroline forbes #anti stefan salvatore #anti steroline #caroline don’t offer shit in terms of storytelling lore or development but they made sure to force her down our damn throats with EVERYTHING #tvd #the vampire diaries #dria responds

110 notes · View notes

rindouheart · 2 years ago

Note

Ok- I saw your stuff and I couldn’t believe you only had three things hshsjjdb

Do you mind an enemies to lovers type thing with pink haired sonic and the hedgehog dude? (Aka. Chigiri and Barou lmao) The reason they beef can be anything you want-

If you’re taking anons- I wanna be 👺 anon pls and ty, it’s ok if you aren’t too lol

CHIGIRI and BAROU + enemies to lovers!

content. just them arguing with the reader (slight sad in chigiri’s part) + gender neutral pronouns used | small scenarios + some hcs

author’s note. hi babe! I’d love to have an anon! believe it or not, but in like 3 years on tumblr no one has ever asked it to me <3 however, i hope you like these headcanons!

(i made them extra long to excuse myself for the long waiting, please forgive me :( )

CHIGIRI HYOMA

you were friends at first, but then the whole injury thing happened.

“why would you give up? a lot of famous players have had injuries in the past, but they still managed to come back! why would you throw your dream in the trash bin like that?”

“you’ve never understood me, then”

after expressing your opinion on why he shouldn’t give up on his dream while he can still play, you started arguing for everything.

it was heartbreaking to see: you, his best friend since childhood, being treated like a complete stranger.

even more heartbreaking was the fact that you liked him and you couldn’t stand the way he was giving up on his lifetime dream.

chigiri absolutely hates you when you’re right.

you started to avoid him and he started to avoid you. it was a mutual thing.

he actually hoped for you to come back, because he realised he acted like a baby.

however, he hasn’t even seen you for months.

chigiri fucked up, completely.

you meet again at a café (unplanned, you’re still not sure how to behave towards him)

“oh, y/n, hi” he mutters with his coffee in hand.

“what do you want?” it wasn’t supposed to come off that harsh, however, chigiri’s face changes expression.

“nothing” he wants to slap himself.

“do you have a minute?” you ask, sitting at a table in the corner “we have to talk and you know what i’m about to say, i guess”

he sits down and huffs.

“i’m kinda tired. we were best friends before the injury thing, and now we look like we spoke once in our lives” you say, keeping your voice as low as possible “your behaviour is annoying”

he knows you’re right, so he just murmurs a “i’m sorry”

you keep up talking “i was really upset when you told me those horrible things. i felt betrayed”

chigiri wasn’t expecting it to be this bad. he totally fucked up.

“I’ll get straight to the point, i had and probably still have feelings for you, but i don’t know if i should follow my heart or my brain right now, because you acted like a bitch with me”

oof, OOF.

“i am very sorry, y/n. i don’t know what i was thinking when i said that. i was too scared of hurting myself again and i almost gave up on my dream. it was stupid, i know you were right, but i didn’t want to accept it”

you breathe in deeply. “i accept your excuses, i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have pushed that conversation that far”

“but you were right. during my time in blue lock, one of my friends told me the same things you told me back then. i realised that i was the one at fault.”

you nod “i’m happy you will continue to follow your dream. i’m sure you’ll be successful”

chigiri gives you a soft smile, making your heart melt.

“so we’re friends again” you say.

“actually… staying without you all this time was hard” he confesses.

“so you’re asking me…”

“yes, i’m asking that”

he laughs when he sees you blushing.

“i have a couple of days off, what do you think about going on a serious date before i go back to blue lock?”

“i’d love that”

BAROU SHOEI

this bitch

when he accepted to move into a new apartment for university he was prepared for anything, he thought.

you’re his polar opposite: messy, loud, extrovert, creative. the living copy of phoebe buffay.

“why are your clothes on my side of the room? is it that difficult to put your things in your side?” and he points the coloured tape that divides the floor in two halves.

(it was your idea to put it down, so he wouldn’t argue with you)

“the space on my floor was finished, i took a bit of yours”

this man is about to jump from the window.

you actually find his exaggerate reactions absolutely funny.

you leave your stuff around the house on purpose, just to see him getting mad.

barou, in reality, loves cleaning, so he is actually satisfied when everything is back to its place.

however, he is quite unreadable, and you think he hates you for the mess you always leave inside the apartment.

suddenly, one of your friends asks if you want a room near your university.

obviously, living closer to your department is better than living where you’re now, since public transport is often crowded or late.

when you leave he’s in paradise.

or at least he thought.

despite the first few days, barou actually misses your mess.

his days are pretty empty without picking up your stuff and cleaning your shared room.

he thought he hated you for that, but he loved cleaning your bedroom.

and that’s why he calls you after a couple of weeks “can you come back, please?”

you’re astonished. why would he want you to move back to his apartment? is he the same person that got mad every time you left something out of place?

“why?”

“well… I…”

is the king barou admitting his feelings?!

he misses you a lot.

“i miss your mess, now i’m always bored after studying, i have nothing to clean up”

“wait” you say, trying to connect the dots “i thought you hated me for my messiness?”

“i thought i hated you too”

“thanks?? how should i answer to that?”

“with a <<yes, I’ll move back to your apartment>>” he laughs

“okay then”

HE DID IT!

now you’re back in the same flat!

for now, he isn’t going to tell you that he appreciates your presence this much, but i can confirm that he’s down bad.

“you’re the only person whose mess isn’t a problem for me”

he might be a king on the football field, but we still need to work on love declarations.

@rindouheart ‘s headcanons — 02192023

#bllk #blue lock #bllk headcanons #bllk hc #barou shouei #blue lock shouei barou #chigiri hyoma #hyoma chigiri #.👺 anon!¡#shouei barou #bllk barou #bllk chigiri #bllk imagines #bllk scenarios #bllk x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock barou #blue lock chigiri #blue lock headcanons

151 notes · View notes

autism-alley · 11 months ago

Note

i don't know if you answer asks but you're one of the few blogs still consistently posting pjo tv crit and it's been such a relief. with the amount of praise it's gotten i feel so gaslit like am i just being a baseless hater?? but no there's a reason a lot of the people criticizing the show are writers. it's a poorly written show and the more i think about it the more problems i find

like i was thinking about the way the kids in the show just know everything and how boring it is to watch, especially the casino scene, and something hit me

the lotus casino functions perfectly as a metaphor for traits associated with adhd--the need for stimulation and time blindness. anyone would fall for the casino's lure, but especially adhd kids. the fact that the show takes that away is REALLY weird to me, to put it kindly

if i were being less kind? i would say there's grounds to argue that having these characters, who are children with adhd, be impervious to something that is designed to trap people exactly like them is, on some level, erasure of their disabilities. especially since the one character who does get affected by it is the one who doesn't have the same neurodivergencies as the two who don't. the explanation for why percy and annabeth didn't start to forget themselves was such a lazy cop out and i can't believe people ate it up

i don't know what that writers' room has against literal adhd children falling for traps that are designed to trap people, but it's embarrassing for them tbh

i’m so glad to hear it anon!! i’m a little surprised to hear it too tbh, i wasn’t sure if anyone else was still. interested in discussing it? it seems like the pjo/atla fanbase overlap means most people have moved onto to the live action atla show. and while i am an atla fan, i didn’t grow up with the show the same way i grew up with the pjo books, so based on what we’d already seen/heard of the natla show before it even released + my utter disappointment and heartbreak regarding the pjo show, i decided to spare myself the watch. i would rather keep my memories of the original show untainted; what i have seen of the show resonates with people’s criticisms of the writing (and as someone who has done costuming work. one look is all you need to understand THAT criticism lmfao).

but i’m honestly… surprised? the pjo show did not get the same level of criticism as the natla show? it’s not like pjo is not also very popular with that same generation, sure, atla being a show perhaps made it more appealing and accessible to more kids, etc etc, sure. but from the fan bases themselves, size aside? proportionately? the pjo fandom is FULL of show defenders just blatantly ignoring the show’s major foundational issues if not just outright parading them around as successes, meanwhile the critics are in the minority. compare that with what i’ve seen where the complete opposite is true of the atla fandom, it’s weird!! and especially jarring to me bc it seemed pretty clear to everyone in the atla fandom the show had Issues, meanwhile the pjo fandom heard the promise from rick riordan’s very own mouth this show is going to be faithful to the series’ spirit. it’s so weird to see the wildly different responses to what i think are prolly equally bad reboot shows, with a fandom of similar demographics (clearly not the SAME demographics or the response would prolly be more aligned but you get my point). so i agree anon, i do feel a little gaslit by the pjo fandom, and watching the atla fandom’s very reasonable response to the natla show is like. whiplash. another sign you and i are not losing it lmao

as for the lotus casino, this is an excellent point! i don’t even think it can be called unkind to point out how this episode is a symptom of the show’s overall disability erasure. i would say it’s unkind of the show to erase adhd and dyslexia representation. in fact, because of the explicit promise by its creator to see that representation, i would go as far as to call it cruel to then erase it. if anything, based on rick’s promises to add more representation, i was hoping for elements like autistic annabeth confirmation, since when pjo was first written, it was based off rick’s son and his friends who were all ND, and at the time it wasn’t thought to be possible to be AuDHD, but likely some of those kids probably were (and that then made its way into the books in characters like annabeth!). that would have been the perfect opportunity to add something with the foresight of modern times, but instead we got… absolutely no disability rep from the show aside from a few short lines of dialogue as a lame-ass bone-toss to the book fans.

the pjo show’s biggest crime is its lack of spirit of the original book series, and that book series cradled myself and every other ND child or child in an abusive situation who read it. it offered us a mother who never got angry with us when we showed “difficult” symptoms. it offered us camp half-blood, the idea of a place, a home, where people like us were not just accepted, but thrived. it offered us a new world. it offered us a friend in percy jackson. i do not feel the show truly offers anything substantial. it only takes.

#anon going ‘i’m so glad you’re still posting pjo show crit’ had me whipping my head around like ‘YOU ARE?’#so thank you anon lmao #i’m still like. marinating in the idea of making a pjo discord server (where crit is welcome)#i don’t know if anyone would still be interested now the like. hype/reverse hype for the show is dying down #and truly excellent point i had not been able to put my finger on why that scene got under my skin so bad #pjo show crit #pjo tv crit #ris raves

21 notes · View notes

melonteee · 1 year ago

Note

My point about losses wasn’t that it's only about the physical injuries, it's that injuries get played up yet never stick to the point that it becomes difficult to tell if an injury a character obtains is actually deadly or worth worrying about. Characters get peirced, blown up, electrocuted, poisoned, but all save for Luffy (and of course Ace) basically sleep it off and are a-ok. We'll never see the consequences of Luffy's shortened life span because unless he was only ever going to reach 30, well, he'll find One Piece before that.

Of course I care about the other things that stand to be lost, but if the character's are never actually putting their lives at risk, why should I be worried when they enter so-called death matches? Why should I be concerned, they always survive with little lost time or lasting consequences. Yes, Oda has been more willing to kill off some side characters, but I can't bring myself to really believe or feel their losses. Pedro's was a good example of their bittersweet successes coming with genuine loss that can be felt.

Sorry, I guess I'm not sure how to get it across right, because of course the mental fight is important, but if Luffy and crew can just constantly tank every injury and eventually keep going without consequences that we'll actually see, why should I worry about them when things look tense? They'll be fine. They'll throw a party before the day is over. Like, this isn't MMA or chess. It's not all fighting nor all mental gymnastics, it's got both. But if the physical has no weight to it, then why should I be conserned about Alabasta or Dressrossa? Luffy will just stand back up and win because attacks types and power levels mean nothing. Zoro takes two Emperor's attacks but gets a little miracle drug (that, once again, the only consequences is a shortened life span) and he's back up and fighting.

Ah, OK, I think I got it. To use MHA as an example, Deku vs Todoroki held a great deal of weight not only because of what they were fighting over but because Deku was willing to continue over-straining his hands/arm to make his point. And we see this over-straining have lasting consequences in the damage done to his hands and his later need to make better use in fighting with his legs. But he doesn't regret doing this damage to himself because Todoroki needed help in that moment. So, compared to Luffy and Zoro having this far off consequence we'll likely never see, Deku carries with and has to adapt to his rash choices in series.

(Heck, Treffy actually losing his arm because of Dressrossa would of been a good example of a consequence like that. But no it got reattached like nothing...)

Lol we'll just have to agree to disagree cause the only reason Luffy even upped his gears is BECAUSE Rayleigh told him he can't get through everything with what he had, the whole point of the timeskip was them improving themselves due to being too weak for the new world. And EVERY Shonen protag gets back up I'm unsure what that point is meant to be, but the thing with Luffy is it's in his character to keep getting back up. That's the thing we rely on him for, that's literally what Wano emphasised.

They're risking their lives all the time, and again, physical injury isn't the biggest aspect of any fight. Luffy very nearly died and awakened a new gear to beat Kaido, he couldn't even beat big mum and got totalled by Katakuri to the point they had to RUN AWAY from Big Mum. I think you're focusing far too much on physical injury of character rather than the stakes of the actual series. Like I get where you're coming from but to say it's a huge flaw that one piece battles have no risks is totally untrue, especially compared to an mha arc where they're in a SCHOOL COMPETITION where no one was going to die 😭😭 the only risks mha CAN have at that moment IS physical injury since they're not trying to save a whole nation LMAO.

But if you're talking about improvement of strength from said injury, One Piece doesn't rely on body pain to improve oneself and look for other options, it relies on the risk of losing overall - death or not - to make each character improve. We literally just saw Sanji, Zoro AND Luffy improve on themselves mid battle due to the risk of losing unless they thought on their feet. Yes Zoro got given that 'miracle drug', but due to that, he realised he couldn't face the emperors and unlocked a new power against King. He faced consequences against the emperors and sought after King instead, accepting that wasn't his battle.

I honestly can't see what you're seeing cause the battles are really engaging for me, and again, I'm not into battle shonens at all. Maybe the reason I like it is the reason you dislike it lol

#ask #melonask

25 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 11 months ago

Text

Once in Twenty Lifetimes

Takeshi Kovacs x Kristin Ortega

Written for the 2024 Candy Hearts Exchange!

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking/alcohol, light angst, slight steam

Summary: She had spent so much of her life making sure that she blended in, and she'd been successful at it the way she'd been taught. Now, though, it was all going to hang in the balance when the one other person left that knew who she really was, was getting spun back up. And of course he was getting spun up into the sleeve of her partner. (Envoy!Kristin AU)

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: i sat down thinking i was just gonna write a little something something for this au idea as a treat for the exchange but then i got super into it and fuckin carried away lmao. oh well! i had a good time! 😂

Altered Carbon Taglist: @garbinge @destinedtobeloved @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“Takeshi Kovacs. Look me up,” he offered the statement to her with a smirk. It didn’t quite pass for charming, per se, although it probably wasn’t his intention anyway. From what she remembered, which was everything of their stint running parallel to each other thanks to Envoy’s total recall, that hadn’t ever really been his strong suit.

Plus she wasn’t in any mood to be charmed in that moment.

There were a million and one reasons that she shouldn’t have gone to seek him out. There were endless layers to the problems it could potentially cause. Bancroft selling out Ryker’s sleeve like a hand-me-down from an older sibling was bad enough, but putting Takeshi Kovacs into it? It brought the situation out of the realm of infuriating and into one of being unbelievable. Bancroft wheeling and dealing Ryker’s suit was a personal vendetta. Tak’s stack being put into it felt like a cosmic one. He should’ve been dead by now anyway. Same way she should’ve been, but a lot goes on in two hundred and fifty years, and clearly real death didn’t want anything to do with either of them just yet.

He said it, though. He confirmed it. She’d heard the rumors beforehand and there was an intuitive twist in her gut that told her there was some substance to them, but she didn’t want to believe it. He was looking her in the eyes and telling her his name and she still didn’t want to believe it.

“You can’t be who you say you are,” she said, partially to keep playing her assigned role but partially because she simply didn’t want to believe that it was really him. “All the Envoys died.” A lie. One that she would be living proof of even if Tak wasn’t.

“All except one,” he retorted easily.

Asshole. Another thing about him that had apparently stayed consistent across the centuries. What was it that he said to her back then? Every sleeve, every time? He wasn’t wrong about that at least. He was wrong about everything else, though. All except one? He’d been out of storage for five minutes and already felt comfortable making sweeping, definitive statements like that. Sleeve-jumping was a skillset they’d all developed, but still. That was a long time to stay down. And to turn up on a planet you’d never been to before? All that and over two centuries down and maybe she would’ve come off ice making the same grave mistakes. Maybe she could make his work in her favor. She just had to make sure that she could keep Takeshi and Elias separate.

She was so busy thinking about all of that, memories going in a relentless playback against the inside of her skull, that she almost didn’t realize that she was still talking with Miriam Bancroft. That part of her was on auto-pilot, or at least it was until she had to get herself the fuck out of there before she landed herself in even deeper hot water.

“Yeah, there’s your kid, there’s your car, and there’s your…” she thought on it for a moment, trying to pick something that felt honest to her feelings in the moment but would still feel like something Police Officer Kristin Ortega would say, not the woman she was back when Takeshi really knew her, “new pet terrorist. You’re welcome,” she added, mostly for good measure, but it also felt good to say it.

“The terrorist can hear you,” he spoke, just barely turning his head to follow her as she continued to walk, but not committing enough to the act to turn his whole body. “I’m standing right here.”

“Yeah, good,” she stared up at him, waiting for him to meet her eyeline, “’cause we’re not done, you and me.”

There was a moment when he was looking down into her eyes that she thought maybe he saw it. Maybe he saw the flicker of the person that he knew once, the person that she was back then. Dozens of sleeves ago but it was still her in most of the ways that mattered. Most, not all. He looked back and forth between her eyes and she waited to see recognition flicker in them. He’d always had that edge to him, after all. It got drilled into all of them during their training but there was something about the way that Takeshi was wired before he even became part of the Envoy core that made him take to it faster and better than most. She envied him for it back then, but maybe now they were more on the same playing field. Or they would be until he got his full footing.

Everyone thought they knew why it bothered her, but still they asked. They were probably hoping for some other nuggets of information, more vitriol about Bancroft and the rest of the meths maybe since she had such an outspoken issue with the lot of them. The rest of the precinct saw her anger and they assumed that it was all because of Ryker. Like she was a woman so simple as that. Elias was part of her frustration with this scenario of course, but the puzzle was so much more complicated than that. It was difficult in ways that she simply couldn’t risk trying to explain to any of them. All of the reasons that she feared Tak and the potential fall-out of him being taken off-stack, were all the same reasons that the rest of the precinct would no longer trust her if they found out the truth about her past.

She’d been born at just the right time, in her opinion. Born late enough to reap all the benefits of a stack, but early enough so that she could manipulate it easily to her benefit when she had needed to most. Data infiltration and manipulation was still easy when you knew the right people and had the right tools, but back then it had been so much easier. It also didn’t hurt that Envoys learned to be on the cusp of it all anyway. All of that was why she was able to wipe her entire past off the record, rewrite it the way that she had wanted to. She created someone who was just enough of a force that she wouldn’t have to water herself down too much, but it was dialed back enough to not get her put on a fucking watchlist. Or even worse, get her thrown into storage off the principle off it. They were all supposed to be masters of disguise, and it had served her well in the aftermath.

She sat in the precinct trying to play over every possible scenario in her head. She wanted to be able to see every possible outcome. If the two of them spent enough time running circles around each other, he was bound to figure it out, right? Figure her out? Eventually the fog would dissipate and he would see her. He’d see past the sleeve. There was no certainty for her in what she thought his reaction to it was going to be if and when that happened. Maybe she could get him thrown back in storage before she had to worry about it. Get Ryker back in his own sleeve. He was so much less of a problem on that front—all that time spent being partners and he still hadn’t even skated close to the chasm of truths that separated them. She hoped it stayed that way—it kept life simpler for the both of them.

Although if Takeshi got his sleeve torn to shreds in the midst of whatever this new deal with Bancroft was, she supposed that none of it would really matter for Elias anyway. What a mess.

She wasn’t surprised, to say the least, when she found him later, strung out and stumbling through the streets. It seemed pretty on-par for Tak—that specific brand of recklessness. For so many years she watched him equate the word Envoy with invincible even though they all knew that it wasn’t the case. It didn’t help that he wasn’t exactly known for his drive for self-preservation. Regardless, the drugs fell in alignment with the Tak she once knew, and she also knew that Ryker’s sleeve would soak them up like a sponge put into a pot of water. A disaster of a marriage.

“Bancroft spent all that money on a nice sleeve for you, and this is what you’re doing with it?” she asked sarcastically as she walked up behind him.

He turned around to face her, a stumble in his step that he was too far gone to even try and hide. “Didn’t think you’d give a fuck about me wasting Bancroft’s money.” He paused, eyes narrowing as his delayed processing caught up with the situation. “You’re following me.”

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “That’s what police do to psycho-terrorists.”

“Come on, you cannot call me that.”

He was stoned out of his mind on, well, it could’ve been just about anything. Or a combination of things. The longer that Kristin looked at him, the more she was certain that she could throw a dart at a board and it would probably land on something that he’d ingested since the last time she saw him. That wasn’t the point. The point was that he was stoned out of his mind and the reason that he was telling her that she couldn’t call him that was because he was being a petulant child, not because by calling him that she would be lumping herself into the exact same group. She knew that it wasn’t nearly that deep and yet she still found herself fighting the urge to flinch at the layers to the comment. Even if she hadn’t caught the physical reaction in time, she wondered if he would’ve even caught it with the state that he was in.

He wasn’t really paying her any mind as he tried to continue on his way. It was hard for him to come off as determined when he couldn’t think straight and he was in a place that he hadn’t ever been before. With each step she took to keep her stride with him, she was trying to separate out all the files in her head. She was trying to keep two neat piles, or even two messy piles if she was being honest with herself: one pile for Elias, and one pile for Takeshi.

She was just as much Envoy as Takeshi was—she could compartmentalize just fine for the most part. But it wasn’t often that she ran into the issue that she was currently facing, one that had so much overlap between sleeve and stack. She’d burned through so many sleeves back then, and continued to go through them albeit at a much slower rate even when she got out of the core. She’d watched others do it too, Envoys and civilians alike. But this wasn’t just putting someone’s stack into a new sleeve and needing to adjust to the new face. This was a face that she knew, the stack that belonged to it still fully intact somewhere in storage, and someone completely different occupying the real estate in the meantime. Someone else that she knew. And it wasn’t as though either of the men who made up the Venn diagram in her head were known for being uncomplicated individuals on their own let alone when they were tethered to each other.

She tried to toe the line with him, anything to get more information out of him. The pendulum swung back and forth between banter and sniping comments. It wasn’t as though either of them had any lasting impact on him. The comments rolled right off—either because of the drugs or the Envoy conditioning, she wasn’t sure.

“What was the other one?” she asked rhetorically as she downed her drink. “Oh, yeah. Icepick. I liked that one.”

“Yeah, that was a good one.” He looked over at her, a hoodedness to his eyes that would’ve almost come off as flirtatious if he’d been sober. “You should call me Icepick.”

She rolled her eyes, using it as a tactic to avert her gaze. “I never called you that,” she muttered, half under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as if to get a better look at her.

She looked him square in the eyes. “I said I’m not fucking calling you that.” She said it with enough conviction to sell it.

Another smirk, paired with hazy, drug-addled eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

The more that they fired back and forth, the more she wondered if it was possible that she had really changed that much. Apparent assimilation was supposed to be one of the key tools in their toolbox as Envoys, sure. But it was also hard to believe that she had done it so effectively that she was flying completely under Takeshi’s radar. It wasn’t humility—that was never her strong suit the way that charm hadn’t ever been Tak’s. It just didn’t seem to fit. There were so many things that seemed off about the entire situation, but she couldn’t quite name them no matter how much information she tried to pull out of Takeshi about Bancroft, about anything he was willing to give her.

Then there was a sharp sting in the back of her mind as the thought reared its ugly head. He should remember me. Her face scrunched, action unmitigated as she tried to beat the impending spiral of thoughts into submission—she couldn’t afford to lose herself to that right now.

He was already up and making his way towards the door. “I’m going back to my hotel.”

His voice snapped her back to attention. Shooting up out of her seat, she followed him. “You can’t really be staying in that fucking AI hotel.” She shook her head. “They’re like crazy ex-girlfriends, you know.”

He looked down at her as he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. There was a smirk on his face, one that seemed slightly more intentional this time. “You know a lot about crazy ex-girlfriends, Ortega?”

She scoffed. “Probably not as much as you but—”

He cut her off, a shift in his tone, a seriousness that she could pick up on. “Give it a rest.”

She followed him clean out the door onto the sidewalk, trying not to let herself get discouraged by him ignoring her attempts to walk alongside him or, ideally, get in front of him to stop him. “Kovacs!” she called after him.

Without turning around, he waved at her over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Officer Ortega.”

She huffed, allowing herself to stop. She whispered loudly to no one other than herself, “Fuck me.”

Takeshi didn’t hide the surprise on his face when she showed up to the hotel later before anyone else in the police department managed to get there. He didn’t get the feeling that she had just been lurking outside the door. If that had been the case, the scenario wouldn’t have played out the way it did, gotten as out of hand as it did. Or maybe it would have—he had no idea how she operated. But she strode in confidently, despite the worry and frustration on her face. She looked around and took in the state of the mess and Takeshi had no choice but to sit there and watch her do so.

“Couldn’t even make it twenty-four hours out of storage without killing someone?” she asked as she walked over to him, gun still clutched tightly in her hand even though it was pointed at the floor.

Poe tried to intervene on Takeshi’s behalf. “If it weren’t for—”

He didn’t want anyone coming to his defense, even when he could do with a little bit of assistance. “Waiting down the block for this to happen?”

She shook her head at him, finally holstering her gun once she was standing in front of him. “Might as well have been.” She looked around the destroyed lobby once more. “Had a feeling trouble was going to follow you.”

“Any trouble that would be following me,” he paused briefly as the red and blue lights of other responding police vehicles started to filter through the front windows and door of the hotel, “should’ve stopped being trouble a few centuries ago.”

She reached out and turned his face to get a better look at the damage, not hesitating to touch him, fingertips still drawn to his chin and cheek like it was still Ryker knocking around inside that sleeve. The tension that resulted from her touch, the momentary fighting against it, reminded her that it wasn’t, but it was too late to take it back.

“Seems like you might be enough of an asshole for it to follow you around for a couple hundred years, Kovacs.”

He grunted, pulling away from her touch, hating the way his sleeve wanted to lean into it despite how badly he was trying to recoil away. “Maybe.”

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck this was all about?”

“Thought you just told me,” he said, rising to his feet so he was towering over her once more.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Can’t help it. Every sleeve, every—”

“Every time, yeah. Your consistency is admirable,” she snapped.

His eyes narrowed, chin dipping down so that he could study her face. “What—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his question. The other police officers came storming into the building, guns at the ready despite the fact that there was no more commotion coming out of the hotel. After all, it wasn’t as though there were other guests that were being disturbed. Once they all started taking stock of the situation, their guns disappeared back into their holsters as well. A few of them started peppering Takeshi with questions, although they didn’t seem as enraged about it all as Kristin had been. They stole his attention just long enough for Kristin to glean what she thought she needed from the scene and slip out without him noticing or being able to stop her.

Not only were Tak’s plans for the night effectively ruined by the men who stormed the hotel with every intention to kill him, now he also had Kristin’s words rattling around the inside of his skull like pinballs. She finished his sentence with no hesitation and what was bothering him the most was that he couldn’t say with absolute certainty if he said something while he was high out of his mind or not. He must’ve. There was no other way she would’ve known, no other reason. Or, at least, there would’ve been no other reason that felt at all feasible. The thought crossed his mind, but, no, there was no way that was possible. He’d had too many things happen to him too quickly after getting spun up again, that was all. Morning would come around and he’d had a perfectly good reason for all of it, one that didn’t make him feel insane.

The next time he saw her, she had the same air of confidence about her that she always did. He kept his expression neutral, not wanting her to know that he’d been turning her words over in his head ever since she’d spoken them. He tried to come off as impassive but he could feel the anticipation tightening in his chest, questions that he couldn’t ask and answers that he was in no position to get. He managed to keep his curiosity tamped down until he was dismissed by Bancroft’s lawyer, another situation that had more questions than answers.

He trailed Kristin out, taking no time at all to catch up to her. He was walking alongside her but he wasn’t looking at her. “Gonna need a couple minutes of your time, Lieutenant.”

She forced herself not to look at him either. “As much as I would love to give you a couple minutes of my time, Kovacs, I need to keep looking into who tried to kill you. You know, the thing that you asked me to do about two fucking minutes ago.”

He grabbed the side of her arm and pushed her into the next alleyway that they came across. She started to protest until she felt her back hit the brick wall behind her. He purposely invaded her space, bodies close but not quite touching. He looked down at her, not letting the anger in her eyes unnerve him.

She glared up at him. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Who are you?” he asked, voice low.

“What?”

“Who—”

“I fucking heard you.” She pushed him away and he gave in, not that she pushed with that much force but he figured maybe it would help get some answers. “You know who I am, Kovacs.”

“No, I don’t. But you seem to know an awful fucking lot about who I am.”

She could see it in his eyes that he was skirting dangerously close to the truth. He would’ve already gotten there if he hadn’t allowed himself to put up a barrier of thinking that there was such a thing as an impossible outcome. Apparently being on ice for a couple centuries dulled the don’t expect anything so that you’re prepared for everything part of their training. Too bad Quell wasn’t around to chastise him for it—he’d undoubtedly enjoy it a lot more coming from her.

“That’s because it’s my fucking job.” She side-stepped, glad that he didn’t make any move to stop her. “Which, I’m trying to go do so that maybe you won’t have another group of mercenaries coming after you.”

“Not gonna keep following me around just in case?” He followed her. “What if—”

“Just call the precinct like everyone else in Bay City,” she told him dismissively.

“Right,” he replied with a chuckle.

Even though he couldn’t see the annoyed look on her face, Kristin was certain that he knew it’s how she looked anyway. “You work your case, if that’s what you want to call it. And I’ll work mine.”

She felt the distance between them growing as he stopped but she kept walking on. He called after her, a smart remark about seeing her soon. He was right, of course. Until they put Takeshi back in storage there was no way that she was going to be able to just keep avoiding him, not with Ryker’s sleeve on the line.

While she knew that there was no getting out of seeing him again, she certainly didn’t expect to see him before the day was out. She definitely didn’t expect him to show up at her apartment door, banging on the dense metal of it like he was a cop with a warrant.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Kovacs?” she asked, too tired to even sound properly annoyed.

“Found out some interesting news today,” he said, brushing past her and into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. He strode down the stairs, taking stock of the place as he went. “Some things that made the picture a whole lot fucking clearer on who you are and what the fuck you’ve been doing.”

Her blood ran cold for a moment. She went down the stairs slower than necessary, thinking maybe it was going to buy her some time. Tak was standing in the middle of the kitchen, palms flat against the top of the island as he leaned against it. His eyes kept darting around the room, taking as much of it in as possible, but they always came back to Kristin.

“I knew it,” he said with a shake of his head once she finally crossed the threshold into the kitchen. “I knew there had to be a reason you were so interested in all of this. And I was right.”

“Were you?” she asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could.

“Yeah.” He let himself return to a fully upright position, taking the few small steps to collapse the distance between them. He stared down at her. “When were you gonna tell me that they spun me up into your boyfriend?”

“Ryker is not my boyf—”

“What the fuck, Ortega?”

“What would it have mattered, hm? What would it have changed?”

“Well it would sure fuckin’ explain why so many extra people have it out for me. Can’t imagine cops with records like Ryker’s are exactly known for having a lot of friends.”

“Like I said,” she grit out, “it didn’t matter—wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t have cared about an Envoy running loose in your city if he wasn’t running around wearing your partner.”

He still hadn’t put those pieces of the puzzle together. Maybe finding out who his sleeve was, the relationship to her, maybe all of that was enough to sate his curiosity about why she was so invested in him. And sure, that was definitely a large part of it. The other part of it was going to make itself reckoned with sooner rather than later—Kristin could feel it deep in her gut. She could chalk it up to Envoy intuition but really at that point it was just common sense.

She paused those thoughts when remembered that she was in the middle of an argument. “That’s not true.”

“Wouldn’t be a priority of yours, though.”

“You don’t know that.”

He retreated farther back into the kitchen, rooting around to get his hands on something, anything that had alcohol in it. “So, what’s Ryker’s deal?” he asked, his head practically shoved into her fridge. “What makes him so special that you’ll run around the city to—”

“He’s my partner,” she said sharply. “It’s what you do for your partner.” She stepped so that she could lean back against the island. “Not that I’d expect you to understand that.”

“Why’s that?” he asked when he found a bottle of clear liquor on the counter. He opened it while he waited for her to answer, pulling a face when he wafted the scent of the alcohol. It’d still do the trick.

She couldn’t give her honest answer, one born from information about the people they were before. She watched him helplessly look through cupboards in an attempt to find a glass. She could’ve made it easier but she was getting a mildly twisted joy out of watching him go through the small struggle. “Being worried for someone else doesn’t seem like it’s your strong suit. Envoy compartmentalization, right?”

He finally found a glass, setting it down on the countertop with a surprising amount of care considering how tired and annoyed he was. He didn’t say anything as he proceeded to pour a hefty serving into it. Bringing the glass to his lips, he downed almost all of it in one go before setting the glass back down with a clatter, a scant amount of liquor still swirling at the bottom.

He let out a sharp exhale as the lingering burn from the alcohol in his throat subsided. “You don’t know anything.”

She wished she knew how to tell him just how wrong he was. Since she didn’t know just how to do that, she settled for, “You’re not as special as you think.”

He finished off what little was left in his glass, leaving it empty on the counter beside the bottle as he went back so that he was standing next to her. She was leaning with her back pressed against the island but he came and stood so that he was facing it again. Instead of placing his hands on top of it, he leaned so that his forearms rested there instead. He clasped his hands, staring at them instead of the countertop as he felt Kristin’s eyes studying him.

“Bet you didn’t talk like that to Ryker.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not him, so I guess it doesn’t matter, right?”

He turned and looked at her. “Make it sound like it’s so easy to separate it out.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“Right.”

Despite the instinctive urge to make another snarky comment, he stayed silent. He unclasped his hands, letting his fingertips drum against the smooth surface of the island. It wasn’t a habit that was his own, just the sleeve’s reaction to nicotine withdrawal. He never personally cared for smoking, and if he thought that his stint in this sleeve was going to be a long-term one he would’ve thought about putting in the effort to quit. That just seemed like too much work for too little payoff at the moment.

Kristin heard the familiar tapping of his fingers before she turned to see it. She hated that Elias smoked, always chided him about it. And she knew that Tak’s draw to the nicotine was because of the sleeve, not because of any intrinsic desire. Because of that she was perfectly aware of the fact that she shouldn’t encourage him, but it almost felt like a freebie given the circumstances. She wouldn’t have to tell Elias—he’d never know if she didn’t say anything.

Without a word, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the back of the top drawer of the island. Elias didn’t think she knew about it, not that it was any great hiding spot.

Takeshi looked quizzically back and forth between her and the pack of smokes. From the second he got spun up all she and everyone else had been doing was chastising him for smoking. It felt like a trick.

She gave the pack a slight shake. “If it’s offered, take it,” she said passively.

His eyes narrowed instantly, his entire body tensing. “What?”

“Take it,” she repeated, “before I change my mind.”

She watched the conflict on his face and chose not to say anything. If he had a question he could ask it, if he had a thought he could share it. But she was done trying to pull information out of him—Tak and Ryker. He was the one who showed up on her doorstep, after all.

“So when you said that I knew you,” he said as he reached and took the pack from her, fingers curling around it and the lighter pinned to the back of it, “you meant that the guy riding my sleeve before me knew you. That any reaction, pull or push, I felt about you had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Ryker.”

She watched him put a cigarette between his lips and spark it to life. She raised her eyebrows, partially because she was surprised by how much she enjoyed watching him do it, but also because she was surprised at how much work he was putting into finding the wrong answer.

Finally, she shrugged when his gaze landed back on her. She watched the smoke curl out from between his lips. “Something like that.”

“What was he like?”

Kristin ignored how he referred to Ryker in the past tense as she chuckled, wondering if he really had any interest in Elias at all or if he just wanted to try and glean something more about her by watching how she spoke about him. Regardless, she decided that she would indulge him in the smallest way possible. “You two would hate each other.” She knew what the follow-up question was going to be so she answered it before he could really ask. “You have the wrong things in common.”

He had an urge to try and get her to elaborate, but he stopped himself. Tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette, he tried to figure out what it was exactly that he really wanted to say to her. He could feel the energy rolling off her in waves. It wasn’t tension, not in the traditional sense. He could feel that there were layers of depth that he hadn’t worked his way into. She was keeping him out. He was stopping himself. He wondered how much of the blame could be put on her, how much of it on him, and how much of it was simply old sleeve memory complicating things for him.

“You must’ve really pissed off Bancroft to get him to do this,” he finally said, gesturing to himself with the hand that was holding the cigarette.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Suddenly the empty glass and nearly full bottle of liquor were looking much more inviting than they had been. “You don’t have a monopoly on pissing people off, Kovacs.”

“Stiff competition,” the rebuttal rolled off his tongue easily before he pulled another drag off his smoke.

“Enough years doing anything and you become a professional, right?”

“How many years is that?” he asked outright, forgoing subtlety because there didn’t seem to be much point to it anymore.

She looked over at him. “Enough.”

“Ortega…” he started and then trailed off. He was scratching at the walls of the truth, could hear it rattling around on the other side. He ground out the butt of his cigarette, funneling his frustration into the action before letting it drop from his fingertips.

“Takeshi.” It was only when she said his full name that she realized how long it’d been since she called him that. Using it to talk about him when he wasn’t around was much different than using it while talking to him. Centuries had passed since the last time she used it so casually with him.

He read it all over her face, too. He could see the way that it felt foreign and familiar all at once. It sounded familiar, too. There was something in the tones of the word, undercurrents in his own name that he recognized even if the voice was different. He stared at her intently, head tilting slightly in thought as he tried to look past what he could physically see. He heard her voice from the alley. “You know who I am.”

His eyes widened just slightly as the realization finally began to crash over him. When he spoke again, there was a certainty to his tone that hadn’t been there before. “Kristin.”

She’d been doing nothing but agonizing over what would happen when he realized who she really was, but now that she could see that he had, all she felt was relief. Her shoulders dropped with the lessening of the weight on them.

“That took you a little too long.” She peeled herself away from him, crossing to the counter where Takeshi had left his glass. She refilled it and drank from it herself. “Still got tunnel vision.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice was tight, but there was still a lingering sense of bewilderment to it.

“Well for one thing I didn’t think it was going to take you so fucking long to figure it out.” She poured more liquor into the glass. She let out a quick, quiet wince as the liquor burned down her throat again. “They don’t know.”

He didn’t need to ask her who they were, or what exactly it was they didn’t know. His time off-stack might have been limited this time around but he knew the danger that being known as an Envoy would put her in. “None of them?”

She shook her head, contemplating a third pour. “None of them.”

“Not even—”

“I said none of them.” The relief was starting to disappear, dread slowly starting to take its place, and she poured herself a third helping to cope.

“You think I’ll say something.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think that there are very few things that you have ever cared about, Tak. I know that Bancroft definitely isn’t on that fucking shortlist.” She paused. “I know that I’m not either—never was.”

She looked over at him and she saw the way that there was a flicker of hope in his eyes when she said that last part. He knew she was right, that even back then she was never someone he paid much mind to. His concern had always been Reileen, and then Quell. Apparently a couple hundred years on ice hadn’t dulled his devotion to the latter. Kristin had a feeling that she knew what he wanted to ask, but she was content to make him actually say it.

To her surprise, he didn’t ask anything. “You haven’t heard anything,” he stated.

She shook her head. “No. But I’ve never gone looking.” She could feel the tension in the room thicken at that. “It was a miracle that I made it out. I wasn’t going to waste that by—”

“It wouldn’t have been a waste.”

“Not to you,” she snapped. “You were Quell’s favorite—of fucking course you would’ve gone looking for her. I was just another Envoy. Dispensable. Part of what was offered.” She sighed, forcing herself not to pour another drink. “I managed to survive so I did what we do best. I blended in.”

“Kristin Ortega,” he said her name in its totality, exploring each letter of it with fresh eyes and ears now that he knew who she was.

“Not a far cry from before, no?”

He shook his head. “No.” There were so many things that he could have, and probably should have, asked her, but in that moment he didn’t care about any of it. He easily collapsed the distance so that he was beside her again. He looked at the way her hands were wrapped tightly around the edge of the counter. He copied her position, only his grip wasn’t vice-like the way that hers was. Their pinkies nearly touched. “If we’d been better friends back then, would you have said something?”

That got a scoff out of her that dissolved into a laugh. “There’s no lifetime where the two of us are friends, Kovacs.”

“Not even in this sleeve?” It was teasing, but not cruel.

She turned her head, still having to look up slightly to meet his eyes even though he was leaning onto the counter. “The sleeve was never the problem.”

“This is probably my best shot though, right?”

She smiled and it was genuine even through the exhaustion. Maybe all the liquor was catching up to her. “Probably.”

Neither of them moved. In the thick silence of the apartment, they could each hear the other breathing. They knew enough to know where it could so easily go. It wouldn’t be anywhere good, at least not long-term. But what did long-term even mean for them anymore? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. There was that unspoken mutual understanding, after all, that they were each looking for someone in the other that they weren’t ever going to find. He might’ve been wearing his sleeve but Takeshi was never going to be Elias. And Kristin might’ve lived through the same hardships and lived to tell the tale, she might’ve known the history and the fight, but she wasn’t ever going to be Quell. They looked at each other and saw the truth, but they were both still pining after delusions.

Tak’s hand moved a fraction of an inch, the movement smooth as it caused his hand to brush against hers. She let out a short breath and he could smell the alcohol on it. Her lips parted slightly, like she was going to say something. Maybe she was going to say it was a bad idea, maybe she was going to send him home. Whatever she had been planning to say, he saw it in real time as it fell by the wayside.

She pulled her hand away from his only to reach and place it on the back of his head instead, pulling him closer. His body moved of its own accord. Some of it was just the natural motions of things, but there was also the familiarity of his sleeve and hers, chemical reactions that were innate that he had no control over. For a moment he fought it on the principle of it all, but then he felt the hunger in her, every movement of her lips and tongue against his a taunt to get him to reciprocate in kind.

So he did, grabbing her and placing her up on the counter with ease. She looped her legs around his waist as his grip tightened on her sides. He leaned into her, bodies pressed as tightly together as they could be with the barrier of their clothes still between them. If he wanted to, he could chalk his eagerness up to too many years on ice, an abundance of hormones in a sleeve that had been in the tank, body mechanics operating outside of his control. He could’ve said any and all of those things and none of them would’ve been a lie, per se. But as his hand slid towards the button of her jeans, he knew that the full truth was much, much simpler than that—they were both just taking what was offered.

#altered carbon #altered carbon fanfiction #takeshi kovacs #kristin ortega #takeshi kovacs x kristin ortega #kristin ortega x takeshi kovacs #candyhearts exchange #candy hearts exchange 2024 #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

13 notes · View notes