#ooc: sorry to write something more dark than the others. i thought it would be important to write it this way. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pomefioredove · 7 months ago

Note

could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^

more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

Trey and Cater's Ending

"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"

Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?

Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"

Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."

Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.

"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"

Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.

"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"

Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"

"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."

"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.

---

"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.

It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.

Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"

"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."

"...Understandable,"

Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.

"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."

You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"

"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."

Leona's Ending

"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.

"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"

Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"

"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"

He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.

---

"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."

You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.

"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."

"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."

Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.

"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"

He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"

"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"

"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"

"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.

You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.

"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"

He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."

You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.

It could be better, but it could also be worse.

Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.

This could definitely be interesting...

Rook's Ending

"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."

At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."

"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"

Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.

As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.

What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.

The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.

He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."

...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.

"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.

"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.

"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"

You couldn't have said it better yourself.

Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"

The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"

You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.

Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.

It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.

"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"

"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.

Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"

"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"

He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.

Idia's Ending

LOL. Normies.

Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.

I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.

That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...

The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.

He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.

Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"

"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"

"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"

Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"

Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"

"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"

"Well-"

"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"

"But Idia-"

"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"

"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.

"Idia, you won!"

And then he dies.

That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.

"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"

A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.

"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"

He takes a long moment to respond.

"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"

You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.

"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"

"I could go for something,"

Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.

"Um..."

He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"

He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"

He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.

Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"

"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"

"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"

"Clever," you murmur.

Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"

"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"

You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"

You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.

"Well? Are you coming?"

Lilia's Ending

"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"

Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"

Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"

Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.

Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"

"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.

---

You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.

You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"

"Surprised, you say?"

No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.

You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.

Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.

"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"

Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.

"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"

You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.

"No,"

"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"

"Definitely not, then,"

He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.

It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.

"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.

Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"

There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.

"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"

"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"

You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"

"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"

"Then... who is?"

Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"

Ah.

If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.

This might take the cake, though.

"I didn't even know-"

"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"

"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"

"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"

"This is... quite the turn of events,"

"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"

You can only grimace at that.

Malleus' Ending

During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.

Not that it mattered. Not this time.

One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.

"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.

Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"

Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.

Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.

"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.

You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...

"Yes,"

Oh.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.

Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"

"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."

Oddly profound.

You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.

"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"

Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.

And the, he smiles.

"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"

What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"

"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"

He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"

You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.

"Yes, it does,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus enjoyers this goes out to you. and rook being weird enjoyers (me)#cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #the varying lengths of these... RIP. sorry everyone

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divinesolas · 3 months ago

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internal changes

summary: your long time betrothed jacaerys heads to winterfell to make good relations with the north, your relationship has always been one of love and happiness until you show up a month into his trip to winterfell where everything seems to have changed between the two of you. your relationship may never be the same and it has everything to do with a particular stark.

jacaerys velaryon x cregan stark x fem!non targ!reader

cw: infidelity, internalized homophobia, queer cregan and jace, threesome, poly relationship, hand job, oral (f), prob ooc for everyone man, p in v, anal, top!cregan, sub!jace, dom!reader, like one smack to the face, ‘sara snow’ mention? (its just cregan), not proofread

an: havent written in a hot minute im rlly rusty but ive gotten asked to write this for forever so here you go 😁

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg

perm cregan taglist ! (open) @ireneispunk

He had been acting weird since you arrived. avoiding you at every turn, barely speaking to you and it bothered you to no end. His letters to you had been nothing but positive, speaking highly of winterfell and the lord stark who jacaerys also seemed to be avoiding as well.

he spoke about how much he missed you, how much he longed to see you but now that you were actually here he seemed to want nothing to do with you. a month ago you were the love of his life, he was obsessed with you, and now he would not even do so much as look your way.

then you heard the rumor for the first time. It seemed everyone had been trying to hide it from you but you heard it one night. the maids had been talking around the corner. Sara snow. The lord rumored bastard sister. With pretty long dark hair just like her brother. They had been sleeping together for basically his whole time there you presumed, you had even heard they got fucking married in front of the weirwood trees before you showed up.

You were sick. so sick about everything so sick of the thoughts you were having and you grew angry, furious but you managed to stay rational, calm, for now.

“are you happy?” he looked up at you started, you had barged into his room and locked the door quickly behind you. “y/n-“ “i am not angry, i was angry, but this is a very typical thing in marriages here i just wish you had informed me,” He stands up from his desk. readjusting the buttons on his white tunic to cover himself up further as he looked at you alarmed. He looked beautiful and you hate that. His hair wet and face flushed as he tries to find his words.

“i dont know what,” “ive heard the rumors. everyone talks about it, everyone looks at me with pity in their eyes. whether its this sara snow or some other lady i dont care because i believe it.”

He freezes. He looks down at his hands which shake, you wait for him to say something. Anything. a part of you hopes he denies it, even if it would be a lie you pray he can give you some false sense of hope but he doesn’t. merely standing quietly in shame while you let out a soft laugh devoid of anything. “if you wish for our marriage to be one of agreement then so be it. but do not try to trick me into believing itll be anything more than that any longer i refuse it.”

You turn to walk out of the room, no longer being able to stand in his presence but as you go to open the door his voice calls out to you. “there is no other lady.”

You scoff and turn back to him, his eyes are glazed over with tears as his chest rises with heavy breaths. A part of you wants to walk over to him and wipe his tears off his face but you remain firm as you scoff. “do not take me for a fool-“ “i mean it. there is no lady.” he puts an emphasis on the word that has you tilting your head. you open your mouth to question him until the pure desperate look on his face causes it to click. there is no lady. but there is someone.

“im sorry.” he flats and looks as though he did not expect you to say that. “for what? you have nothing to be sorry for it is i who should be-“ “i cannot be mad at you for who you are it is not your fault.” He walks over to you as you close the door, grabbing your hands as he shakes his head. “you miss understand me i like you i love you like i man loves a women but he,” he lets out a frustrated sigh but you can tell its not directed at you, “i love him as i love you.”

When there is a silence in the air for far longer than he likes he squeezes you hard tight as he looks at your blank face. “please say something my love.” “who is it?” he looks down once more as you remain firmly staring at him. “y/n..” “who?” “cregan.” He says his name likes its forbidden, the word travels in the air like a brush of wind but you still hear it all the same.

he doesn’t dare look up at you again as another wave of silences washes over you two. His heart is aching so badly he wants to clutch his chest and fall to the ground. He does not want to be like this, one of those men. He holds himself in higher regard, but he cant help how he feels about the winter wolf who smiles at him so kindly. He thought it could be one and done, manage to shake this illness from his skin and be done with it but it has only gotten worse.

it is wrong. he should not want to love cregan as he loves you. you are his light his world but why does he think of cregan as he thinks of you. Its wrong, immoral. He should be punished, he wishes for you to yell, to scream at him, hit him but you don’t. you merely pull away from him and walk out the room without another word. He drops to his knees when as you shut the door and he clutches his chest as he begin to sob, he is a monster and this fate is a cruel but just punishment in his eyes.

Cregan wake up that morning prepared to walk the same routine he always does. The images of the dark haired prince that flash in his mind go ignored another day as they have been ever since the princess arrived. he did not hate you, no he actually rather liked you a lot but he did miss getting to spend time with jacaerys who clung to his side before you had shown up and now had not even spoken a word to him.

He walks into the hall and pauses. There you sit, arms crossed and two plates of hot foot in front of you. it clicks. he looks around at all the guards and maids in the room, “everyone out.” the room quickly scatters, “and make sure nobody enters.” the doors as shut with a hard slam as he stalks towards you, eyeing you down with a gleam of mischief in his pupils. “its a shock to see you here princess.” “i am not a princess.” he hums as he takes a seat and begins to pick at his food while you merely stare at him. “something the matter?” “how long?”

he raises his brow as he dunks his bread in the soup before shoving it in his mouth, “how long what?” “dont play dumb with me lord stark.” He chuckles leaning back in his chair and you find yourself readjusting in your seat. He watched you with a pleased look as he licks on of his fingers. “not long enough that your pretty little head should be worried about it princess.” “he said he loves you.”

cregans face falls and his face turns serious as he looks at you. He can see the questioning in your eyes and lets out a sigh. “two weeks. but we’ve been friends this whole time. i never meant for it to go further i swear on my sons life. stepping in between the bonds of a betrothal is not my way.”

You hate that you find yourself believing him. you itch at your skin to the point it becomes red. “do you like him?” cregan scratched at his jaw as he moves his food around on his plate. “i do. very much. i apologize.” he watched as you take a deep breath as you stare at your plate, “i will not peruse it, you are his betrothed and it would be inappropriate and wrong of me. i will leave him alone, i will never even glance at him i have disrespected your honor and dignity enough.”

he stared at you waiting for a response, he watches as you bring the bowl of soup to your lips snd take a long sip before placing it back down and wiping the excess from your lips. “would you accept his mother terms here and now so we could leave by the afternoon if i asked?” “yes of course anything you want.”

he expects you to ask him to do it but you merely bring your chalice to your lips as a sinister grin finds its way to your face. “do you find me pretty lord stark?” his brows raise in question but he coughs into his fist, “um, yes i do princess.” he watches as you lean over the table and grin at him sweetly. “just how pretty lord stark?” he almost asks you whats wrong before he feels your foot drag up his leg slowly letting out a shaky breath before a groan as your food digs into his bulge. shakily and breathlessly staring as you as you press your boot covered leg harder against him leaving him gripping the table. “i have an idea im sure you will be pleased with.”

jacaerys is on the edge of cracking. he had not seen you all day. he had gone to your room to ask you to have breakfast with him but he was informed you were not there. he had gone looking for you, searching every corner for you and he found nothing. nobody would even tell him where you were but they all had an odd look in their eyes when they said that to him.

He does end up seeing you, finally with cregan stark on your arm and he feels his heart plummet. “good day jacaerys.” his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he stares at the two of you. “good,,, day,,,?” he watches the look the two of you share as he feels his heart stop, “cregan’s been showing me around a bit would you like to join us?”

He feels like this is a trick. The two of you look far too happy, he gulps and fiddled around a bit before giving you a weak nod. he ends up trailing behind the two of you as the two of you talk about winterfell. you ask cregan about the history of certain things and he eagerly answers your questions. jace is just waiting for the fire to lit, for the two or you to turn on him and begin to berate him.

His mind wanders as he imagines the two of you punishing him the way he deserves, cregan holding him down while you tease his cock, refusing to give him what he truly wanted. He lets out a light whimper as his thoughts continue to run wild and his eyes widen as he coughs into his fist trying to play it off as nothing. He lets out a sigh of relief as the two of you say nothing but he misses the look the two of you share.

You all arrive at a large study, “this was my fathers before he passed.” “do you not use it?” cregan shakes his head, a more somber look on his face. “i should, i will, one day, for now his legacy shall be preserved here.” you hum and nod your head in understanding. you take off your cloak as cregan also begins to strip himself of his outerwear. jacaerys stares at the two of you confused, you walk over to him and begin to untie his cloak from around his neck. “you should make yourself comfortable jace.” “what is happening my love?” he asks you in a hushed voice but you dont answer him, a small smile creeps its way onto your face and he grows worried.

he allows you to strip him down to his undertunic, making no move to fight you his eyes drift behind you to cregan who has made himself really comfortable his undershirt untucked and being held open but just one button, cregan raises his brow at jace as he catches his eyes, taking a long drink from his bottle.

you grab his face and jacaerys blushes, “what are you looking at?” cregan stalks his way over and stands behind jacaerys his hands wrapping around his waist as jacaerys feels his breath caught in his throat as cregan presses his head into his neck.

“you’re such a greedy boy, wanting two people at once huh?” he whines. cregan begins to suck at the skin on his neck. he’s confused. he has no clue whats going on. “what’s happening?” he curses as your hands dip into his pants and harshly grab at his cock, “me and your secret lover have come to an agreement isn’t that right?” cregan lifts his head and hums. He watches in amazement as the two of you share a small kiss and he throbs at the sight of the two people he cares for most being intimate.

“hmm thats right princess.” jacaerys struggles to think as you tug on his throbbing cock, rubbing your thumb around his tip as cregan goes back to sucking on his neck. “since you’re so greedy, you can have us both arent we so kind?” jacaerys moans in delight at this turn of events and buckles his hips into your hand. your face sours and you lightly smack him across the face, “and not a single thank you? you’re disgusting.” jacaerys whines and shakes his head vigorously. “im sorry im sorry thank you thank you i love you.”

He feels cregan chuckle into his neck, his hands pull away the buttons on jacaerys tunic not caring about the now ruining garment as cregan caresses his skin. jacaerys continues to greedily rut his hips into your hands feeling himself closer and closer to his release. He suddenly feels cregan press into his back and he lets out a shudder as cregan begins to grind his hips against jacaerys, his tunic having long been disregarded and their bare skin presses against each other.

Your hands are suddenly pulled off him and cregan also takes a big step away from him and jacaerys whimpers at the loss of contact and the way his cock throbs as his orgasm dies down. “dont think im going to let you get away with this that easily.” your lips are suddenly presses against his and a fury and he eagerly tried to match you. “fucking another man behind my back so cruel.” he whimpers as it feels like a dagger begins to dig into his chest, “im sorry im sorry.” he slurs against your lips messily as you begin to pull him back as you sit on the bed, staring up at him. “prove it.”

He drops down to his knees like he was born to, quickly throwing himself under your skirt and get a taste of you like hes been craving for weeks now. your hand grips the back of his head while he begins to lick at you through your underwear and you look at cregan who takes another chug from his bottle before placing it down and walking back over to the two of you. jacaerys pushes aside your underwear and moans into you as he gets a taste of you. you gasp and look down at jacaerys skirt over head as your free hand grips at the sheets below you. “fuck jace.”

as his lips wrap around your pearl he gasps into you as he feels a body press against him and hands wrap around his cock. “dont think im not gonna join in.” jacaerys heart pounds as he continues to messily eat at you while cregan rubs his hands all over his cock, coating his fingers in his precum before sliding him inside of jace. his back arches and the vibration of his moan has you throwing your head back while cregan works open his hole as hes done plenty of times now.

the pit continues to build in your stomach and you lock eyes with cregan who grins at you and you wipe some sweat off your face, “dont you look pretty?” “shut the fuck up cregan.” the man laughs as he continues to work his fingers inside of jace, “you look so pretty when you’re about to cum doesn’t see jace?” the man though he cant see you now knows the expression on your jace far too well and nods eagerly against you. once you do release jace eagerly licks up every drop before you rip his head away and cregan pulls his fingers out. jacaerys still without any sort of release grows desperate as tears stream down his face.

“im sorry im sorry ill be good i swear please just let me cum please please.” you lean back into the bed and stare at cregan with a mock pondering look, “hmm what do you think my lord you think hes been good enough?” cregan smirks while jacaerys looks up at him with a pleading look, “oh how can you deny this face? look at him.” cregan cups his face in his hands and brushes some of his tears away. you look at jacaerys fucked out face and pretend to ponder for a few more moments while jacaerys squirms in cregans arms before grinning. “fine, come on my love.”

jacaerys heart beams at your words finally calling him by the affectionate name you had given him and he rushes towards you, “undress us.” his hands greedily tug off your clothes stripping you both bare and you grab his face and kiss him lightly. “you know ill always accept you jace, no matter what.” the layered meaning of your words hits him like a truck and the tears continue to well in his eyes, “i do not deserve you.” you shake your head as you affectionately run your fingers through his hair, “if this is who you are i do not mind it. i am serious, the three of us can be together if you so wish. cregan will grow on me im sure.” “im still here you know.”

you lightly chuckle as jacaerys beams at you, “you are the most amazing person i have ever met.” cregan now as bare as the both of you walks towards you two and raises a brow, “am i atleast second place?” jacaerys turns his head towards him, “of course you are.” cregan softly smiles and leans to press a gentle kiss against his lips.

When the two of them pull away the lust returns and you greedily turn jacaerys towards you and pull him into a deep kiss, falling back with him on top of you, “fuck me jace.” he moans as he eagerly lines himself up and pushes into you, shoving his head into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. he begins to work himself into a gentle rhythm before he feel cregans cock press against his hole and he freezes as cregan works his way inside of jacaerys.

jacaerys has never felt so full. so content. with the two people he loves the most bringing him to the heights of pleasure. he hopes his days are like this for the rest of his life, with the two of you by his side. that night after you had left the study and made a mess around cregans room as well he listens to the two of you bicker in bed about the mess youve made in his father study and how his legacy has been tarnished, “is it not strange he has a bed in his study?” “my father spent most of his time in his study, how do you think i was made?” “yuck do not say those things.” “oh you were certainly not complaining as i was eating-“ “oh dont bring up old news stark.” that night jacaerys falls asleep with a big smile on his face your voices lulling him to sleep.

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mrsackermannx · 5 months ago

Text

trust me with it | choso kamo

choso has experienced so much of what it is to be human already, but you're slowly making him realise that he's far more human than he thought.

word count: 7k

tagging: (ya’ll interacted with my interact to be tagged post back in November🥺) @meownotgood @sixpennydame @tomuraslut @romantichomicide95 @cathybarn @c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s @whatthefucksatan @loveackermannn + @p00pdev1l (have to tag you my beloved <3)

tags: 18+ canonverse choso kamo x fem!sorcerer reader, minor manga spoilers, (nothing plot wise is mentioned other than yuuji and megumi reuniting/implied culling games arc/ post shibuya incident arc), loss of virginity (virgin choso) but still soft dom choso, corruption kink too I guess?? choso has a big dick, breeding kink, size kink, slight praise kink, belly bulge, unprotected sex, use of "human/little human," light love confession/confession of feelings-so sex with feelings? low-key self indulgent, not beta read, vvv intense sex, possessive/smitten choso (slightly yandere at the end??)

author’s note 💌: (nov 23): hope this isn’t a little too ooc, ive been dying to write something for choso and this came to me so i had to write it! virgin characters are my faves to write🤭(june 24): I HAVE HAD THIS SAT IN MY DRAFTS SINCE NOVEMBER AND WANTED TO SET IT FREE😭😭😭

Choso had been plunged into a world of the unknown from the moment he met you. Before you, he liked to believe that one hundred and fifty years of existence meant that his wisdom would always be the indispensable weapon against which he truly feared—the unknown, and the humanity of his heart.

He was hardly a stranger to continuous, repetitive loops of thought but it felt as if his brain had rewired itself. Not even his inner world was safe from the insatiable need to be near you, his own thoughts searched for you when they dared stray elsewhere.

He thumped the tile before him, hot water scalding his back as he willed his hopeless blood to answer him. It was acting on its accord all the time, his heart nothing but frenzied beating in his chest, not even his body in his own control anymore.

The need to be near you, to feel you and touch you in ways he couldn’t even explain was going to be his undoing tonight. Sharing a room with you seemed to send equal prickles of fear and excitement through him.

You reached out for your reflection in the glass as if you’d throttle it but chose to reach out and trail patterns against the window instead. You wrote nonsense for a few moments, before cursed energy started to zap through your fingertips in minute electric pulses. A shower normally reset you after a day like this, but you supposed this was a rather special circumstance.

You were glad to be alive even though you didn’t feel you deserved it and the weight of your fellow sorcerers still slugged down your shoulders. The responsibility for your students was an ever present taste in your mouth. You eyed your tattered uniform beside you, all too grateful for the hotel robe Choso had insisted you wear after he picked apart the suitcase left by the last guests. It was soft and fluffy, perfect for how light your body felt after your shower and admittedly around Choso.

You gripped your stomach, the guilt demanding to be free. Your head was still fuzzy from how hot you’d had your shower, as you’d yearned to wash away all that had happened. But that would be a dream, “Satoru, I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” you whispered, laying your forehead against the cool glass.

Thankfully the wailing vibrations of a nearby car alarm rattled through the glass and then your ears, dragging you from the dark edges of your mind.

You peered down below at the scene, squinting to figure out the cause of the chaos. Cackles of maniacal laughter followed sounds of crumbling concrete as your eyes darted from fire to fire. When one was extinguished another rose up in its place. Yet the neon lights of Tokyo still shone, a loyal audience and an ever present reminder of what life used to be like.

It was pure anarchy, like waking up from one nightmare and going right back into another. Yet the world was not ending and then starting again it just kept ending instead.

You weren’t sure what was worse, the hell out there, or the one in this room? Choso wasn’t quite sure either, he thought as much as he watched you intently from the doorway of the bathroom. He found he could often do so and never tire of it because there was a fluidity to your movements that calmed him, something that reminded him of water, like warm waves somewhere safe.

He liked that about you, he liked a lot about you.

You glanced at his reflection in the glass, and resisted smiling at how he watched you so attentively. Concern knitted his features into something soft and more approachable than the expression he usually showed everyone else.

He was so cute and serious all at once that it was infuriating. He towered over you in height and his hands dwarfed yours, every feature of his face was dark and perfect, and maddeningly symmetrical like he was crafted in heaven, like some kind of dark, beautiful, fallen angel.

But nothing about Choso was what you expected, that you learned early. He might have looked intimidating, but he was careful and patient, he stopped to admire flowers when he thought nobody was watching, he didn’t always say a lot, nor did he smile often, but he had an array of expressions that always managed to move you in some way.

You sighed. You resented how he’d managed to send the usually calm waves of your heart into a frenzy, a full blown tsunami.

But you couldn’t hate him, it was impossible. Not when every interaction you had together, you treasured so sincerely. You casted your mind back to just nights ago, when you were sitting together on a roof in some district, sharing konbini raided food together under the stars. He held his onigiri out to cheers with yours, a phantom smile on his lips before he took a bite.

Or when your hand brushed his as you were walking back and he frowned at how cold it was, clasping it immediately on instinct with his large, warm hand. You tried to shake his grip but he shook his head and clasped it tighter, urging you to keep up with his pace. You didn’t argue it any further.

Then just this morning after passing through what used to be a department store. You all but yelped when you felt something hook around your throat from behind. But a hand landing atop of your head quickly stopped your thrashing, “It’s just me.” You heard the glimmer of his smile, turning with one of your own.

He was still smiling, simply as if he was so fond of you that words were futile to express the depth. Your throat went dry as he adjusted the scarf on you, “I found this,” he murmured, before continuing ahead, turning to beckon you when you stood there frozen.

This person often acted without words and out of pure kindness and it baffled you. You knew what he had done and what he was capable of, but every wordless gesture, reassuring nod, and the warm brush of his fingertips against yours had you rethinking everything about love.

His deep voice settled through your body and calmed your rising nerves. He’d only said your name but it sounded like the unmistakable call to come home, it made you feel like a child again.

You were still standing at the window, then, he thought, no doubt thinking of other sorcerers, of Satoru, at least you knew Yuuji and Megumi were safe, only a few doors down.

“You should sleep,” he murmured, soft footsteps growing close until his body heat somehow billowed against your nape.

It was easier to face yourself than him right now, so you dared not meet your faces in the reflection staring back at you. “What are you thinking about?”

You wanted to speak but found yourself trembling, silent tears rushed to embrace your palms, staggering where you stood you tried to cover your eyes, but Choso was already there. You felt his strong arms lock around you, stilling the tremors that shook you. You stiffened at first before you melted, the hard pieces of you pooling to his feet like wax.

“What are you doing, Choso?”

“I felt like it was right,” he whispered, resting his chin upon your head. Instinctively his hands cupped your cheeks, swiping away the warm tears rolling there. “You stopped shaking.”

You couldn’t breathe now for entirely different reasons, being handled so tenderly seemed to make you even more tearful.

The commotion of the fighting in the distance seemed to unsettle you more, making Choso exhale suddenly through his nose. “I…wish you didn’t have to see that.”

Your lips parted, “I don’t want to think about anything anymore Choso,” you croaked. “I don’t want to think about anything.”

“Can you think about me?” he bashfully asked, stroking his hands through your hair. “I just want to help you.”

“I don’t want to burden you, just go to bed, okay?”

He stiffened against you, unhanding you to head over to bed.

“You don’t have to fight how you feel around me. I’m not one of your students.”

“I know.” You refused to let yourself crumble anymore around him, it was too dangerous, for so many reasons.

“We have to rest so we can fight,” he murmured. You turned to find him gesturing again to the space beside him. You sighed and he countered you with an even louder one. He crossed his arms as you smirked at the sound, “Don’t be stubborn. You need to sleep.”

His bluntness was something he did to lessen the burden of talking at times, but when he spoke to you it felt as if he did it to protect your heart. It was obvious he didn’t always know how he should say things before others, but with you it came easy.

You let out a bitter laugh, wrapping your arms around your cold body. “You know, Choso? The more time passes, I can see that you’re an older sibling.”

He decided to take that as a compliment, humming in gratitude before continuing to pat the empty space beside him. “Then listen, come here and sleep. You can’t sleep over there.”

He cocked his brow at you, “Can you?”

“Listen, I don’t care what Yuuji says, alright? I don't trust you.”

You immediately covered your mouth as if to take the projectiled words back. You turned back quick enough to see the frown on his face before it was gone before he impassively said, “At least trust him.”

Your eyes held each other's gaze until you refused to be lost in the beautiful unsurety of those dark brown eyes. So you stared back at the moon instead, wondering how you found time crumbling into nothing whenever you looked at him. You were trying to ignore the pangs of your heart, asking it why it had chosen now to fall for this half-human, half-curse you found so utterly captivating.

Even with your back to him the reflection of him was clear beside you, not willing to leave your side. He was wearing whatever clothes the last guests had left. A black t-shirt and some loose sweatpants, and his hair was loose and silky at his shoulders from his shower, and his skin was still flushed from it, too.

The image beside you, and the reality behind you caged you in, forcing you to face your true desires and the guilt that was tugging at your gut. He was innocently offering you space beside him to rest and your mind was everywhere else. You couldn’t ignore how seductive he sounded when he spoke this late at night, or how the sight of him reclining against the headboard with his thighs slightly spread like that was so sexually charged it was making your thoughts run wild.

Without his usual clothing you could see how thick his biceps were, and how broad his chest really was. You longed for him to touch you, to hold you, to explore you so he could learn what being human really meant.

His aura and general demeanour was so undeniably strong it had you wondering how much longer he’d play this game with you, and what he’d do to you if you gave him the opportunity. But a part of you also doubted that he felt that way about you, or anyone for that matter.

“It’s cold over there,” he pressed again, no malice at all, only concern. “Yuuji told me that I'm naturally warmer, it must be because my blood circulates differently…So, you really should come and sleep here next to me.”

You were freezing in your robe, unwilling to put your tattered uniform back on. So, you finally abandoned the window ledge, “What are you gonna do if I do?”

His face furrowed, “Whatever you want me to do,” he sounded more like he was asking. He'd been around you long enough to pick up on the slither of the nuance aching to be acknowledged.

“I’d rather not hear you complaining any more beside me though.”

“Whatever.”

He cracked you a half-smile, happy to see you finally listening to him, even if you were being a brat about it. “Good.”

You were sure you caught his gaze on your thighs as you neared the bed. You’d been chalking it up to him being curious, but the way his eyes had lapped over your bare skin tonight held something you could feel in your core.

“Do you think I don’t notice when you do that? Earlier, too?” you blurted.

His eyes darted to the door as if he planned to escape or as if Yuuji was about to burst in and declare that he room with him instead, rather than the tall black haired boy he’d been attached to the hip with since they reunited.

“I don’t want to fight with you. Yuuji respects you-“

He looked up at you, those dark eyes alight with something reminiscent of relief and perhaps yearning? His unwavering gaze sent flutters through you, it was like he was taking in every detail and leaving everything else alone.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d acknowledge my question at least.”

He pouted, noticing how your arms were tightly folded and how you were looking down at him with an indecipherable emotion. He hadn’t quite figured that one out yet, he thought, but he liked the look of it on you. It excited him somewhere, somehow.

“Choso?” Your voice was a soft, hypnotising hum whenever you said his name all honeyed like that.

His mouth went dry as he really took you in. How the moon was creeping in to illuminate your skin, drifting down your throat to where your blood pumped. He briefly questioned whether all of these feelings were because your blood was special? How was it that you glowed like the sun and the moon had gifted you their light? Why were you so attractive to him?

The bathrobe was much too big for you, the sleeves large and encasing your wrists, but it cinched in your waist. You had such an attractive shape, one that was so different to his own. He’d spent far too long trying to conjure up how you must look in his mind, but he could never form the image. Clothes were always in the way, taunting him, teasing him.

“Choso!”

“Yeah, yeah-“ His eyes widened as you closed the gap between you both, kneeling tentatively in front of him. He quickly brought his legs to his chest and turned away from you.

You scoffed, “You’re the one that wanted me over here so bad.”

Blood was thundering in his ears and his skin was burning so hot he feared he was about to explode into a thousand different pieces. He needed to hold himself together because he felt like if he looked at you he’d be doomed. Maybe his worst worries were true, he couldn’t be around humans like you, at his core he was nothing but a curse. What if you caused his body to show him yet another reaction? One that was weird? One you would hate?

“I know,” he mumbled, curling up on his side, he appeared to be shaking slightly, as he rocked his hips every few seconds. He was trying to elevate the pressure building in his lower half that was making him feel like he might burst. “I still do.”

You sighed, leaning over his body to assess his face. “Now you’re just worrying me.” You rested your hand on his forehead and he groaned.

“Why are you burning up like this? Were you not supposed to shower or something? I don’t see how you’re any different from us in that regard?”

He groaned into his fist, “Ever since I lost my brothers, and I met Yuuji. I've been feeling and experiencing things I never have before. I thought the worst and the best were over. But now, you?”

He was groaning like he was in pain. “I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

“Hey, calm down.” You bit your lip, “Take what? Should I get Yuuji?”

He quickly shook his head.

“Then I guess I’ll keep my eye on you tonight.”

The bed dipped beside him as you laid down, curling your body up like his. He froze, staring at you and your mouth, your lips looked so soft, he ached to touch them.

“Listen, I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s not like I don’t trust you.” You paused, “You’re interesting, Choso. I’m just intrigued by you. I don’t know what you think of me, I guess that’s why I want to know why you stare at me like you do?”

His brows pinched together.

“Like earlier?”

“Was I?”

You nuzzled closer to savour the sweet treat of his scent. It was nothing and everything human all at once; sweet, and vaguely like metal.

“Maybe Yuuji hasn’t told you this…but like, you can’t just stare at people's bodies so obviously.”

“Their faces are better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Got it,” he said slowly, but then he noticed you had nothing under your robe. He wondered if your nipples were hard because he could see goosebumps spreading over your skin.

His eyes settled on the space free from your robe. “And I…was staring at your body?”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes followed his, watching him grow more shameless by the second. With every doubt you had, a shaky breath or a small noise would escape him, that had you questioning if he felt the same desire for you. Seconds felt like minutes, as Choso allowed his gaze to roam freely of you, as you allowed him to.

“And…you don’t like that?” he whispered after what felt like forever, making your heart beat faster with all of these stolen whispers.

“You don’t like when I stare?”

Time slowed and all other sounds ceased to exist to him, he could hear every bat of your lashes, and every hesitant swallow. He was watching you so carefully he barely blinked. “I want you to tell me why.”

Then you did it, the thing that confirmed everything for him as you clenched your thighs together, ever so slightly. His own were locked firmly together, as he could feel something was happening there that he couldn’t explain. Maybe you were experiencing the same thing, he thought. He didn’t want to grapple with doubt when this might be the only time he had with you like this.

“It’s just not something you should do,” you finally replied, curt and crisp, but the way your voice shook suggested anything but. He could feel the heat emulating from you now. You were on fire, too, or at least he hoped you were, because he was finally at bursting point.

“I want to show you what you do to me. Do you want to see?”

Your lips parted to speak but before you could he was sitting up and gesturing to the thick bulge in his pants.

“This. This is mine,” he whispered, leaning in so his breath brushed your neck. “You know what’s happening to me, don’t you?”

You throbbed and pulsed for him, weakened by your desire. “You really are getting used to this whole human thing admirably fast. It’s endearing, honestly. You want sex and you’re already figuring it out?-“

“I don’t want to just get you pregnant-“

The tension broke with your laughter, “That’s not all sex is for, Choso. There’s many ways to do it, did you know that?”

“There’s another way?”

“Choso, if I show you, you can’t go around telling everybody, okay?”

“Is it special?”

“Not every time. But it can be. Shall I explain first?”

“Yes.”

“People have sex because it feels really good. When a man and a woman have sex, yes, they can produce life. But people have sex mostly because it feels good, are you understanding me here?”

He nodded, “It can be called fucking too. Sex is sometimes called fucking.”

He leaned closer with his eyes glued to your lips. “How did you know that’s what I wanted?”

You swallowed as he studied your face so intently, “Because you’re hard, right?”

He frowned in confusion, rushing to check his stomach, “Where?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, “Oh you’re too sweet. Sit back.”

He let go of your hand and leant against the headboard awaiting your next move. You couldn’t help but wonder how long he could remain this composed?

You carefully lowered yourself on his lap, watching him wince, you knew it was because his cock was probably growing more sensitive by the minute. Due to his abilities, his blood was in a frenzy everywhere.

“You’re curious, aren’t you? About my body?”

Your words were all he needed for his body to act for him, as he reached and ripped your robe open and apart, “Choso,” you stammered, “you should have asked!”

His hand cupped your throat carefully, thumbing your thudding pulse point. “I knew you wanted that. Your heart has been beating like this since you laid down. You want to show me your body too, and you want me to touch it. Explore it. Don’t you?”

He smirked at you, and he looked so gorgeous it hurt.

“You want sex, don’t you? But are you sure you want it with me? I don't know what to do.”

You lifted his chin and smiled, making that primal part of him go even crazier, “It’s okay. I still want it with you, Choso.”

In the rush of the moment he suddenly realised what he wasn’t laying his eyes on, and he gasped as he finally did, though all to himself. “I can touch you?”

You nodded and he worked the robe down your arms, he was mesmerised, brown eyes glimmering in the low light. His breath growing heavier at the sight, “You’re so soft,” he stroked you so gently it turned you into mush. His hands rose up and down the dips of your curves, over and over as he appreciated the unique shape of you. It seemed like he wanted to commit your every breath to memory.

“You’re beautiful,” he said under his breath as he cupped your breasts, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. “They’re so beautiful…You’re so beautiful.”

He leaned forward to rest his face in your breasts, locking a hand with yours. As he listened to your frenzied heart and toyed with your nipple, mesmerised by your body.

You ran your fingers through his hair and he moaned softly, pulling away to touch and grab at you all over again. His eyes locked on yours, watching the way you were getting worked up from his every touch. He noticed how much faster your heart beated when his hand stroked down your centre and neared lower. So he paused at your abdomen.

“You’re…exquisite.” His eyes were in yours like they always were, intense and full of anticipation. “Here, this part of you too.” He was flushed all the way up to his ears. “What do I call it?”

You smirked, “My stomach?”

He was trembling, trying to contain himself. Shaking his head, he asked a wordless question. You smiled, and he took that as assurance to venture further, cupping the hot heat between your legs. “You look so pretty like this, when I’m touching you here,” he whispered, watching your teeth sink into your lip as your arousal drowned his fingertips.

“My pussy? You’re touching my pussy,” you whispered. “Do you like it?”

He nodded eagerly, “This is where I put mine?”

“Do you want to?”

He nodded again, “Can I…look at it? Closer?”

“You can do what you want with it, Choso.” You cupped his face, leaning close. “I want you to do whatever feels natural to you.” You kissed along his jaw as you spoke, he quivered at each one.

“I think you’re more human than you give yourself credit for. A curse might have had its way with me by now and I know you must be bursting to try these new things as they come. So we’re going to do something special first.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna kiss. Kissing is done in all kinds of ways, you kiss your family on the cheek, normally. You kiss lovers on the lips. You kiss people you have sex with on the lips. It feels really good. Got it?”

“You’re going to show me though, aren’t you? You’re going to lead me.”

“Yeah, you ready?”

He nodded, “We’ll close our eyes, and then I’m gonna kiss you, got it? My lips will touch yours, and then you’ll let nature take its course from there. Don’t worry about being too rough with me,” you eyed his hands that were now resting at his sides, “You won’t hurt me. I’m a sorcerer, remember? It would take a lot to do that.”

“Then come here and give me your lips.” He tugged your mouth onto his, your lips meeting his eager ones, you thought he’d need a second to adjust to the sensation, but in a single second you were being slammed down onto your back. He clutched your face in his hands so he could kiss you without any distractions, it felt like he’d never let go. Everytime you moaned, he would too, like every kiss bonded you closer together.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting years for this, rutting his clothed cock into your naked, wet centre. You slid your tongue against his and he started to grunt, and his skin grew so hot against yours you wondered if he might set you both alight.

He was quick, and eager, pulling away to rip away his shirt, but earnest as he grabbed and then placed your hands on him. You made sure he felt your desire too, kissing all over him, finding that sensitive place just under his ear to suck and kiss. But then he was fighting you, just so he could kiss down your throat to get your tits once more, learning and learning. “I can kiss anywhere?”

“Yeah,” you moaned.

His eyes darkened with lust as he gripped both your breasts, running his teeth all over them and sucking until your blood rose to the surface in the shapes of his lips.

“I saw a lifetime when I saw you. I saw you, and I felt it all. I thought that was your technique, that you were going to lure me in and kill me with your beauty. I was wrong. Thank you for giving me your body. Trust me with it.”

He was gasping against your skin, running his hands up and down like you were about to disappear. And if his words were intense, his actions were even more so. “I want to kiss you forever.”

You had no idea what to reply to him right now, but there was something so beautiful about how direct he was, he loved his brothers, he knew of emotions, like love and admiration. He knew what he felt for you and he could put it into these words.

Falling for this man was hardly unusual when what you felt was so real.

“I trust you, Choso. I want you to kiss me for as long as you want to.”

“I can kiss here then?” he said, throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he gripped your hips and leered at your pussy.

“It’s so wet,” he hummed in awe, before he closed the space and kissed it. He let out such a loud groan you had to shush him, but then that was just it. He was sucking all over so your juices could dance through his taste buds. He was licking and sucking on your pussy with so much zeal you were surely louder than he was.

Choso was learning fast. He knew that you surely couldn’t be this wet like this all the time, he gathered it was because your body was readying itself to take him. Which also meant you wanted to take him, he wanted to take you. He’d yearned for you, he’d adored you. He adored this.

“I could do this forever,” he moaned, the grip bruising on your hips, as he locked you firmly in place so he could explore you. “Those noises of yours. Don’t stop. You won’t stop. I’m telling you not to stop them.”

“Yes Choso!”

He never thought the sound of his name could taste so sweet. He was groaning into you, sucking and licking until your swollen clit rubbing against his lips caught his attention. You prayed he’d be gentle as he spread your lips and looked at you, awaiting your reaction as he gave it a softer flick of his tongue. You shuddered so sweetly, squeezing his shoulders and tugging on his hair.

“That’s a sensitive part of you, isn’t it?” He chuckled to himself, a grin on his lips, “My sensitive little human.”

Your eyes widened at the words and he watched as more slick oozed from your throbbing sex. He laughed again, the deep sound reverberating deep in your core, he was so beautiful, so hypnotising. He brushed the hair from his eyes and kissed along your thighs, still keeping you spread.

“I’ll be gentle with you. I won’t break you unless that’s what you want.”

The pleasure you were experiencing from a half-human half-curse should have been illegal, it probably violated some sorcery law somewhere but you didn’t care. Not when he was somehow saying and doing everything to make you tick.

He kept licking and sucking until he found what you liked, and noticed the way you were shaking, the way your thighs were squeezing him tight so he didn’t stop. You gripped his hair, moaning his name as you came, the sweet taste filling his mouth until you had to forcibly push him away.

“Don’t keep your sweetness from me. That was all mine,” he grunted, travelling up your body with kisses. He took your face in one hand, his voice softening as he looked at you beaming in your afterglow, “Did I give you too much? Can’t take anymore of me?”

You shook your head, barely able to catch your breath. “You made me feel so good, Choso, you gave me an orgasm. That’s important in sex, to give your partner orgasms, it’s what just happened.”

His thumb rubbed your lower lip, marvelling at the subtle mark he’d left from biting it earlier, and he smiled, “So you keep stimulating your partner until they can’t take anymore, releasing themselves on you.”

“You catch on fast.”

He grinned, kissing you deeply as he rutted himself into you. “Show me what to do,” he said breathlessly. “I need you, now.”

“Fuck Choso your cock, I can feel it.”

You started to tug down his sweatpants, taking the time to admire how broad and built he was, he really was no different from a human at all. He moaned with every press of your lips on his skin, he’d made them so swollen, kissing and biting on them like he was ravenous.

You released his cock from the confines of his pants and gasped, frozen at the sight. “Are you scared of me? Is it different?”

“No, it’s amazing…” you licked your lip, “It’s just so big.”

The warm weight of his hand landed on your stomach, he rubbed there, reassuring whilst also obviously trying to calculate this himself, “But you want it, don’t you?” he murmured, soft, “So we can make it fit, can’t we? We have enough of this together.”

He was so clumsy as he touched himself it made your heart swell, gathering the slick that was pooling down his cock. He took it, and made sure to cover your pussy in it, pausing when his finger slipped inside of you with ease. But then you moaned so deliciously he found his jaw growing slack, eager to keep pleasing you.

“That’s why you’ve got this little hole haven’t you? It stretches to fit things inside, so it’s going to fit me inside like it’s doing right now.”

You quickly nodded, beyond fucked out by this man as he continued to stuff his precum into your pussy. “Yes Choso.”

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grunted, stuffing in more of his fingers to fuck you even better. “Naked and free.”

“You can put it in now, Choso. It’ll fit. I want it.”

“Because you want me don’t you?”

“Yes Choso.”

You watched him, gripping the base of himself and aligning his heavy cockhead to your opening. His face was lost in pleasure, lost to every sensation, he was beautiful like this too, you thought.

“Only me?”

“Only you, Choso.”

“Then let me see everything,” he whispered against your forehead, large hands folding you and spreading your thighs wide. “You’re so beautiful. I want to see it all.”

“Please be gentle,” You whimpered, feeling him start to push in, you braced yourself, hanging on to him tight.

He groaned into your cheek as he felt resistance from you, no matter how good you felt he’d rather die than hurt you. “Is there another way?”

“Lie down.”

He did as you said, watching in awe as you were quick to straddle him, oozing slick all over his thighs. You still wanted him just as much as he wanted you and that excited him to no end. Even if he was a challenge and clearly more than you were used to.

You hovered as you aligned yourself with his cock, and he moaned as you finally touched him. And as you sunk yourself onto his cock he gripped your hips so tight you yelped, before your voice melted into a moan in unison with his.

“More,” he whimpered, as you stopped halfway, panting at the sensation. “Let me in.”

“Trying, Choso.”

“I want to feel all of you. All of your pussy.” His voice was low, and close to breaking as you throbbed on him.

“That’s it,” he stroked his thumbs in comforting circles, “Are you going to let me feel you?”

You quickly nodded, teeth sunk into your lip. His voice was as arousing as his cock, “Give me a minute, Choso. I can do it.”

“Does it hurt?”

You nodded and he pondered for a moment before he took his thumb to your clit, rubbing until you moaned. Then slowly, naturally, as if your body was melting into his, you made your way down the thick inches of him.

“You’re doing good, so good for me. You can take all of me inside. You’re strong.” He was so out of his mind he didn’t even know what he was cooing to you, but he just wanted to put you at ease.

“You pretty little human. Taking my body like this because you want your pussy fucked? Right? You like my cock inside you? Stretching you out?”

“Choso!” You groaned as he fully bottomed out, hands landing on his shoulders for support. “I love it, you feel so good. You’re making me feel so good.”

He whined at your words before composing himself, his lips trailing down your skin. “I am? Are you too weak now? Do you need me to help you feel good? Yuuji said you were a good teacher. He was wrong,” he taunted, kissing the side of your face as he gripped you.

His hands sunk into your ass as their final resting place, appreciating the softness there too, “You need to show me what to do, just once.”

“I can’t,” you whined, tears of pleasure flowing down your cheeks at how full you were. “Look at yourself. Your cock is so big.” You breathlessly gestured to your stomach.

His eyes widened as he pushed his palm onto your belly, feeling how deeply he was penetrating you, “You have to use me and make yourself feel good. That’s all, Choso.” You barely managed your words, eyes barely open as the pleasure he was giving you threatened to break you apart.

“I understand. Leave it to me,” he groaned, kissing your neck, as he started to move you off and on his cock, “We move together until we orgasm. You’ve never had a cock like mine so you can’t move, huh?”

He experimentally snapped his hips into yours and you whimpered so loudly he soon followed. Although he knew nothing of what was lewd and what wasn’t, he somehow knew that the sound you’d made was nothing but filth and that he’d done something you’d desperately needed.

He did it again and again, until he was drilling up into you and delighting in all of the sounds you were making, gasping from how good you felt. “Choso, your cock feels so good inside. It’s the best.”

“Then you never need another one, if only I make you feel this good. No other cock will ever feel the same,” he grunted, “You’re mine now, you beautiful woman.”

You kissed him messily in reply, barely able to form words as he fucked up into you until you were shaking and moaning into his mouth because you were coming all over him. “Then you’re mine, Choso. I showed you this, how to feel good. It won’t feel good if another human do-“

You gasped as his hand slammed over your mouth and you were on your back once more. He was folding you whilst holding back on finishing in minutes and he didn’t even know how impressive that was.

“Don’t say it. I don’t want another human near me like this. Only you. I told you, I saw you. I saw everything. I know that I’m different. But I can fuck you better, I know I can. You like what I’m doing to your body. I know, I know, I know, you do,” he chanted as he groaned into you, balls smacking hard against you as he ravaged you.

All you could do was hold tight and brace yourself as you whimpered.

“Mine, mine, mine. So, so, beautiful,” he grunted.

Tears pricked your water lines at the intensity, you felt so loved, and safe in his embrace like this.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, and you could see him holding back. “When you orgasm, Choso. Your cum will be different, it will be messier than mine.”

“Is that the stuff that breeds you? It’s going to shoot inside you, isn’t it?” he stammered. “You don’t want it? How do I control it?”

“You can’t, but that’s okay, I won’t get pregnant, I take something for that. So when you feel like it’s getting too much, give in. You can let go. You’ve already done so well.”

“I can fill you up with my seed?” He stretched your arms above you to take both your hands in a single clasp, cupping your chin with the other.

“Look at me. Why won’t you get pregnant? Because I’m not fully human?”

There was a sadness in his eyes, but it was being blown out completely by his desire.

Why was this man so hot without realising it? His brow as all furrowed, his face flushed, fucking you so hard it was now dawning on you how loud you both were being. “It’s a pill I take,” you moaned as he slammed into that spot inside that had you creaming on him again. “I-I told you.”

“Then I’ll pretend,” he grunted, gripping your hips hard as he fucked into you like he was trying to breed you.

“Like I’m going to fuck my seed into you so I can keep you forever. No man can have you if you’re filled with me.”

“I want your cum, Cho!”

“I know you do! You’re a needy little human taking my cock even though it’s too big for you, wanting my cum to fill up your pretty little hole.”

“I want it, I want it,” you moaned into his ear, wrapping your arms around him tighter. Your voice only made it worse, he pinned you down even harder, kissing and licking up your tears.

He was whimpering now, all of the pressure building in his core, he could feel it, the very sensation you were talking about. “You’re lucky I haven’t split you in two with my strength. But you take it, you take me in your pussy, waiting for every last drop of me.”

The loud smacks of his hips on yours were no louder than your sounds. He was fucking you like he’d never get the chance again.

“I wish I could breed you. Then everyone would know, I’d know. That you’re mine, all mine,” he was rambling as he came, holding you tight with his tongue down your throat.

You felt the insane amounts of cum spurting inside of you until the noises were so lewd it was near comical. Until there was so much cum he was slipping out of you and coming all over your stomach and the sheets too. Your name laced in every breath.

He groaned out your name, falling into your arms so could put him back together again. You kissed wherever you could, praising him through your breathlessness. You both rested for several of these precious moments. It seemed like the night had finally calmed outside of the hotel too, as had you both, after purging what had been brewing between you both since you’d first laid eyes on each other.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked, running his lips across your jaw.

“No, not at all.” You continued to soothe him, running your hands through his hair. “But now we have a whole lot to talk about. I wouldn’t normally fuck someone so soon that I saw a future with.”

He made a little hmph sound, “Why?”

“It normally comes after getting to know someone.”

“We’ll have all the time in the world for that,” he said gently, flipping you below him as he caged you beneath him.

“Won’t we?” he urged, folding up your thighs as he guided himself back inside. His voice was desperate all over again. “So,” he leant close, his lips brushing yours. He tried to resist, but gave in to taste your lips, taking the time to kiss you with so much unbridled affection it made your chest hurt. Before he finally spoke again, “So, stay alive for me, and I will for you.”

©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.

#choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #calling all my choso fuckers!!!!!#I’ve had this in my drafts for so long 😭😭😭

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newtthetranswriter · 26 days ago

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Hi there! Just read your Giulio Gandini x reader and I have to say it's just amazing! I've been inspired to send in a request, if that's okay.

Personally I love flustered men so... perhaps could you write, pretty please, something about him with a reader who's under his care (kind of like Anna was) that likes calling him sweet petnames and compliments him often? (you can use gender neutral terms, I don't mind, let it be for everyone to identify with hehe) One day they compliment his voice, the next is his eye, the next is his strength. And they call him not just Giulio, but also honey, or lovely, handsome, etc?

Sorry it's such a long request, I hope you make the idea come to life with your lovely writing!

Word Count: 3810

Paring: Giulio Gandini x Gn! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of reader being sick, Slight MHA Manga spoilers, MHA You’re Next spoilers, possibly Ooc Giulio

A/n: Hi, Thank you so much for requesting. I’m glad you enjoyed the last one enough to ask for more, and I hope this meets your expectations. Anyways enjoy, remember requests are open and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

After the fight with Dark Might, Giulio and Anna moved into the U.A. shelter. It was the safest place at the time and they had no way to get out of Japan even if they tried. So the two of them settled into one of the refugee dorms they were offered and waited out the war between Heroes and villains. At first they were happy to be free of Anna’s quirk and the stress it caused both of them, and they tried to enjoy a life with each other. But over the weeks spent in the shelter, they both realized that the feelings they thought they had for each other were nothing more than friendship. Yes, they loved each other but it was more in the ‘this is my best friend and I would die for them’ way than the ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you kind of way’. So, they agreed to just be friends and support each other through whatever comes their way.

Eventually, the war came to an end with the Heroes standing victorious. With the restoration efforts underway, the Refugees were free to leave U.A. and flights out of Japan were finally available. With the ability to finally leave and get their lives back on track, Giulio and Anna discussed what it is they wanted to do moving forward.

Anna had suggested that they return to her home and rebuild it after the attack by the Gullini family left it in shambles. And as much as Giulio wanted to help his friend rebuild her family home, that place was now tainted with the reminders of the night she was taken and he was left for dead. He instead offered for them to stay in Japan and start over. They could find work and rent an apartment together until they both got on their feet.

After a lot of back and forth, Anna had decided to return to her family home on her own, and Giulio stayed in Japan to start over. They remained friends, just living in completely different parts of the world.

Though starting over in the wake of a war wasn’t the easiest thing ever, Giulio slowly began regretting his choice. It was impossible to find an apartment that was accepting new tenants, let alone one that wasn’t completely destroyed in the chaos. If it hadn’t been for the green haired hero student, who helped him out with the Dark Might situation, he would probably be living in some run down abandoned building since the kid was able to get Giulio permission to stay at U.A. until he was able to find an apartment and a job.

And don’t get Giulio started on the search for a job. He knew it would be a struggle, after all he was a foreigner, wore an eyepatch over his prosthetic eye, and his right arm doubled as a gun. It was never going to be easy to find work even if there was just a country wide fight against a lunatic super villain. But even with his regrets, he didn’t give up hope.

Roughly three months after the dust had settled and Anna had left, Giulio finally received a job offer. A small-time artist wanted to hire someone to help out around their house, as their work kept them busy. At first Giulio was hesitant at first, not wanting to just be some snobs maid, but when he saw that he would be allowed to stay in one of the spare rooms of their house free of charge, he accepted. After all, they were the first person to offer him a job, even with his looks, and it would eliminate the struggle of finding a place to stay.

Time Skip

It’s been just over four months since he took the job with the artist, and to say it was nothing like he accepted would be an understatement. You weren’t your average snobby artist who acts like they’re better than everyone else. You were just a normal person who happened to make high quality art that also happened to sell really well. You treated Giulio like you had known him for years, and didn’t care that he looked like he had been through hell and back.

But your kindness wasn’t the main thing that surprised him. It was the fact that you rarely called him Giulio. Anytime you needed anything, you would call him Honey or Love. Thanking him with a quick ‘thanks hun’ after he brought you lunch when they were busy. He couldn’t understand why you used pet names like that, he wasn’t mad about it, just confused. And not that he would admit it but every time one of the soft names of endearment would roll off your tongue in his direction, his heart would speed up for a second.

“Hey Love, what do you think of this color palette?” You called from where you sat looking at work in progress you had been trying to finish for a few days.

Snapping out of his train of thought Giulio walked over from his place by the door, looking over your shoulder. “I think that red with that green looks a little to christmassy but other than that it looks ok.” He answered, when he first started working for you he understood nothing about art but he was quickly picking up on what colors went well together and what clashed.

You sat for a second, tilting your head from side to side, thinking over the input he gave. “You’re so right hun.” You said reaching for a new bottle of paint. “I think I need to add a little bit more blue to this green, and maybe just a smidge of brown to the red.” You rambled as you began mixing the new colors. After a few seconds, you turned to look at Guilio, almost as if inspecting his features as he just looked back confused by your investigative stare.

“Is something wrong, Y/n?” He asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the art studio.

Shaking your head, you turned back to your paints before responding. “Nothing’s wrong, just kinda got lost in how beautiful your eye is.” You said as if it didn’t make Giulio’s heart speed up. “Anyways, how about now? Do the colors work well?” You asked, causing Giulio to look back at the paint in question.

Taking a moment to actually take in the changes that You had made to the paint, Giulio refocused his thoughts. “Yeah, I think that works better now.” He nodded, before standing up and checking the time on his phone. “Well, it’s about time for me to make lunch, is there anything specific you want?” He asked, getting ready to leave You to work on their painting while he got back to work.

“Nope, just make whatever you want hun.” You said with your usual smile before focusing back on your project.

Giulio nodded and left the room. Once he closed the door to the studio behind him, he couldn’t stop the flush that rushed over his cheeks. Sure Giulio had received compliments in the past but that was before everything happened. Since he lost his eye, no one has complimented his appearance. People have complimented how cool his prosthetic arm is, or how he’s a good shot for someone who is self taught, but no one has told him he’s beautiful in a long time.

Taking a moment to calm his thoughts and tell himself it meant nothing and was probably just the artist admiring the color of his eye and not himself. Giulio settled himself, and moved to the kitchen to prepare something for lunch.

Mini time skip

Other than the comment about his eye that day, nothing else out of the ordinary happened. After a couple days, Giulio even managed to convince himself that it didn’t happen. But he was once again doubting himself, as he found himself in a similar position a week later.

You had once again called him into your art studio, needing more input on some design you were working on. “Which of these techniques look more like hair?” You asked him once he approached where you sat at a small desk in the corner.

Giulio leaned over slightly to get a look at what you were referring to. On the desk sat three small canvases, all painted with the same reddish brown paint you had mixed the previous week. The only differences were the way they were shaded, each one having a slightly different pattern. Looking closely at each one Giulio couldn’t help but notice that the shade and pattern of each looked eerily similar to his own hair when it was down.

Brushing the thought off again he pointed to one that had the slightest wave in the shading. “That one looks more like hair. Even the straightest hair has waves and ripples depending on how it’s styled.” He answered, standing up. As he watched you take in his response, he subconsciously brushed his hand over his hair moving the pieces that came loose out of his face.

Just as he brought his hand away from his hair, You looked up at him. “You know, you should let your hair down more often. It looks nice when you do.” You said casually referring to the few times he had left his room with his hair not in its normal bun. “Anyways thank you for once again helping me out of this road block. It will really help with this piece.” You moved to organize more of your smaller canvases you used for swatching colors or techniques.

Nodding in response, Giulio then moved to exit the studio. He didn’t bother saying anything as he left knowing that you were busy and at the moment he didn’t trust his voice. He could feel a light blush creeping up his neck and he needed to be alone to calm his thoughts again.

Once he was in the hallway, Giulio began to work through his thoughts as moved to work on cleaning up the house for the day. This was the second time you had complimented his appearance, surely there had to be a reason. He wanted to tell himself that it was really just the artist finding inspiration in his looks because you see him every day, but then he remembered what people say about an artist’s muse. Giulio didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but what if you actually found him attractive.

Almost as soon as the thought appeared, Giulio shook it away. That was foolish, you were his boss and he was just there to help you keep your house in order while you worked. Sure, you guys would have long deep conversations over dinner or afternoon tea when you both felt like talking, but that's just what people do right. Giulio tried to once again convince himself that the compliments and pet names meant nothing and that you were just an affectionate person. You probably call all your friends Love or honey, while casually complimenting them.

Time Skip

It wasn’t until another month later that Giulio realized that there actually was more to it than he let himself believe. The compliments hadn’t stopped, every other day you would find something about him to comment on. Like how bright his smile is when he’s truly happy, or how he doesn’t let his past define him. And of course the pet names never stopped, every question was started with ‘hey love’ and every ‘thank you’ followed by hun.

But what ended up tipping the scale from ‘Oh they must be like this with all their friends’ to ‘Wait, do they really think all these things about’, was when one of your friends came over for a visit.

Giulio wasn’t paying much attention to the conversations you were having, believing that it was none of his business. He just focused on bringing the two of you tea and then going about his daily tasks, before slipping into his bedroom to get out of the way. But as much as he wanted to ignore what the close friends were talking about, he couldn’t help but notice one thing. You never called your friend any of the pet names you used for him. It was always ‘hey f/n’ or ‘thanks buddy’. Hearing how you talked with your friend, caused Giulio’s thoughts to run a mile a minute.

Later in the day not long before your friend left, Giulio was in the kitchen grabbing himself a snack when the final straw tipped the scale. Again he didn’t mean to listen in but he couldn’t help but eaves drop when he heard his name.

“Giulio seems really sweet, a little on the scary side but really sweet nonetheless.” Your friend said. He wasn’t sure why they were talking about him, but his interest was piqued so he stayed quite in the kitchen pausing his actions.

There was a pause before he heard you speak. “He’s not scary, just rough around the edges. He’s been through a lot these past couple years, it’s understandable for him to be cold.” You explained. “But you are right about him being sweet. He’s always checking in on me when I’m lost in the depths of a project, making sure I’m eating and getting enough water.” You said, complimenting Giulio as if it was second nature to you at this point.

He heard a laugh coming from your friend before they spoke again. “Well, yeah I hope he’s checking on you. Isn’t that why you hired him in the first place?.” Giulio agreed with them, you hired him to keep an eye on yourself because prior to him, you had gotten sick numerous times because you weren’t the best at self care. “Come one Y/n, I know there’s more to it than he does his job. Since I’ve been here I haven’t heard you call him by his name except for when you introduced us, every other time you’ve spoken to him it’s been ‘love’ or ‘hun’. What’s up with that?” So they noticed too. “And don’t try to say you’re just friends because you never call me that.” They finished with an accusatory tone.

Giulio anxiously waited for your response, hopefully with it being your long time friend asking, you would actually give a real response.

“Ugh you have always been able to read me.” You sighed, before continuing. “He just goes above any expectation I had. Like yeah I hired him to help make sure I take care of myself, but I didn’t expect for him to do things like carry me to my room when I pass out in the studio or replace my art supplies when they get low without being asked. Not to mention he’s not pushy, if I forget to eat he just brings the food in and lets me know it’s there and that I need to eat. He doesn’t get upset when he comes back later and it’s untouched, he just replaces it with a granola bar and bottle of water so I don’t have to take my mind off my work to eat.”

Giulio was amazed that you had noticed all of that in the few months he’d been working for you. He figured you just excused all the times he replaced your paints as you forgot that you already got them. Or that you forgot you actually went to bed on your own, but clearly you picked up on it at some point.

You sighed again before continuing, after taking a drink of your tea. “As for the pet names. It just feels natural with him. I never meant to start doing it, one day it just slipped and he never told me to stop so I didn’t. It honestly kinda feels wrong to just call him Giulio at this point, because he’s more than that to me. He means so much to me.” You finished, likely with a soft smile on your face. Giulio could tell you meant every word, but he also heard the slight pain in your voice as they spoke. It was almost like something about the topic hurt on a deep level.

“Why don’t you tell him that? Clearly he cares about you if he’s doing things like replacing your supplies or carrying you to bed so you don’t wake up in pain.” Your friend asked curiously.

There was another softer sigh before you spoke again. “I don’t want to scare him away. He just thinks of this as a job and a place to stay. I can’t just be like ‘Hey I know I’m technically your boss, but I have feelings for you and they won’t go away’. That could ruin everything. If it made him uncomfortable to work for me or stay here anymore, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go. His best friend is in another country and he has no family, he’d be forced to stay here until he found something else. I couldn’t bear to put him in that kind of position.”

Giulio was shocked. He never expected to hear any of that, and yet it made him both extremely happy and sad at the same time. Had he really given you the impression that he wouldn’t want to work for you anymore if he knew your true feelings for him. At that moment his body moved before he could think about what he was doing, and before he knew it he was standing in the living room.

His sudden appearance draws the attention of you and your friend to him. Before either of you could ask him why he was there he spoke. “You don’t have to worry about scaring me away with your feelings.” Giulio started, he noticed the surprised look on your face assumed it matched his. “I’m not sure how to describe what I feel, I’ve never been great with words. But I do know that every time you call me Love or say you like my smile, my heart races and I find it hard to speak.” As he told you all of this he moved so he was standing closer to where you sat.

There was a pause as his thoughts finally caught up with his words, and in that moment he decided that he was already this far so he might as well go for it. “And if you truly meant everything that you said, I would be happy to explore these feelings together.” He finished with a gentle smile.

You sat for a moment speechless. Your entail thought was that you were dreaming and in a minute you’ll wake up laying across the desk in your studio. But after blinking quickly and pinching your arm to wake yourself, you realized that this was happening. Giulio felt the same as you, even if he didn’t quite know the words to use. “Yeah, I meant every word. You are so much more than I expected when I started looking for someone to help out around here.” You said returning your own bright smile. “I’d love to explore these feelings with you, Love.” You finished, standing up and grabbing both of his hands running your thumbs across his knuckles.

He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face at the act. Not only were you showing the same care to his robotic arm as his normal one, but you were looking him in the eyes. Rarely had anyone made eye contact in a way that included his support item, they always focused on his human eye as if they were uncomfortable with the tech that was now part of him. You looked at him as if you saw the real him, not the person everyone thought he was.

Giulio was truly at a loss for words at that moment. So instead of saying anything he leaned forward slowly, giving time for you to stop him, before placing a quick kiss on your cheek. As he pulled back he admired the slightly shocked expression on your face that quickly turned to a giddy smile. “I’m glad I took this job, nothing could have turned out better than this.” He said resting his forehead against yours, the smile never leaving his face.

“I’m glad you took the job as well, now I don’t have to worry about Y/n working themself to death because they forgot how to feed themself.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you pulled away from Giulio to look at your friend who was now standing by the front door. “Don’t stop being all lovey dovey on my account, I was gonna head out soon anyways. But congrats you two. And Giulio I don’t care if your arm doubles as a gun, if you hurt her you will wish you never came to Japan.” They finished, waving quickly before slipping out the front door.

The following silence was interrupted by your bright laugh once again. Giulio looked at you, still in shock from your friend's threat. “Don’t give me that look, we both know you would never hurt me. Anyways, do you want to see that project I’ve been working on?” You asked, stifling the giggles at the wide eyed stare he had been giving you.

Giulio took another moment to process everything before nodding gently. He once again didn’t trust his voice. He had completely forgotten your friend was there and let his feelings out, he couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed by the situation.

You smiled as you pulled him towards your studio. As you opened the door and ushered him in front of you, he couldn’t help but notice the giddy smile on your face. When he turned back to the room, he was not expecting this to be your project. Staring back at him was a hyper realistic portrait of himself. Every detail was clearly thought out from the shade of his hair to how it laid across his shoulders. He was shocked to see that not only had you chosen to paint him with his hair down but you also chose not to include his eye patch. Both his human and robotic eyes looked back at him.

Watching as he silently took in the painting you couldn’t help but become nervous. “Do you like it? I wanted to paint you in a way that shows how I see you.” You explained coming to stand next to him.

Instead of responding he turned to you, pulling you close and placing a quick kiss to your lips. “You're perfect.” Was all he said before pulling you back in. Conveying all his feelings through the kiss instead of trying to find the words to describe how perfect everything was.

(dividers by @/cafekitsune)

#x reader #my hero academia x reader #newt writes #mha giulio x reader #giulio gandini x reader #giulio gandini #mha x gn!reader #x gn! reader #x gn reader #my hero academia you're next x reader #my hero academia you're next #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months ago

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Hello!! I just started reading your works recently and I think it's safe to say that I have fallen in love with them <3 the way you write both the cod guys and the reader feels so real and poetic that I just, eat it up everytime. I read your Barbarian! König post and it got me thinking about something.

König and Ghost are kinda opposites when it comes to their darlings. König likes darlings fiesty and snippy but Ghost likes his darlings as more agreeable or soft but not weak, ykwim??

And it got me thinking about Barbarian! Ghost. Whereas König got his darling bc he killed her husband and she was there when it happened, I see Ghost as going to take one girl originally but then the darling steps in front of said girl and says to take her instead, saving the girl and sacrificing herself. Idk but I think he would be very attracted to that, and unlike König who gently picks you up and puts you upon his horse while you kick and bite him, Ghost grabs you and lays you stomach first against his horse harshly, keeping a sturdy hand on your back as he rides away.

Sorry if this is weird or ooc!! But it was just a thought that came to me!

Oh Barbarian!Ghost would be sooo disinterested on the outside. He only saves her ass discreetly, but saves it more than enough times to spark her curiosity.

Why does he come to her rescue and then abandons her to her own devices?

CW: Minor violence (bruises), noncon groping, fear of SA, blood, cuddling & snuggling, Ghost being a complex PTSD weirdo who has a fascination towards bones.

It’s actually she who approaches him first, not the other way around. He allows her to seek protection by staying near him and thus get the others off her back: he might even throw her a piece of roasted lamb as if she were some stray cat, lurking about his campfire. But there’s not much more than that on offer for her: only a few sideways glances that tell her he regards her mostly as a nuisance and a liability, accompanied by a few scrap bones that luckily have some meat and fat still on them.

He shows her how to snap the bigger ones in half to get to the life saving marrow, and that’s when she realizes he regards her a bit dumb, some pretty royal girl who doesn’t know how to survive without a man.

And who’s to blame for all that? Clever men who have forced her to learn poetry and songs, pluck chords and recite philosophers from memory. No one ever even taught her how to ride a horse, the only things she can do is chat about the latest political turns and whether it’s old-fashioned to style your hair Southern style.

Now she’s supposed to strike a conversation with a barbarian who dresses in furs and wool, who collects the knuckles of his fallen enemies and looks at her like she’s the uncivilized one here. He probably plays dice with those bones, and she’s never seen him force a woman under him; she’s never seen him take a woman at all.

He’s probably half dead already, some ghoul raised to ravage this earth. But everytime she gets drooled over or spat upon, groped or squeezed or slapped on the soft flesh of her butt, she makes her way to him and only him. To become one with the shadows too, or to disappear, perhaps.

He gives her his biggest, thickest pelt to wrap around her shoulders, to cover those assets that make these wartorn men so crazy. Or then he doesn’t want to find her frozen to death at dawn... Dark, vast eyes look at her in the early morning fog, up from above from the highest heights, as if asking why she overslept again.

A rabbit is thrown at her feet, but she doesn’t know what to do with it: she knows he wants her to skin it, yes, but how? Even with the knife he provides her, she can only stare at the soft creature helplessly, lick her dry, creaky lips until he sighs and comes to wrench the blade away, taking the hare before it turns too stiff.

She’s almost certain he’s not even interested in women until one day, someone goes a bit too far and grabs a handful of her to squeeze. The spitting, jerking and screaming turn into a whole fistfight until she gets drawn to her knees by her hair. He’s about to rip her scalp off, of that she is sure from how much it burns.

Tears stream down her face from pure pain alone, but this time, the bone marrow man doesn’t only save her. He walks to the scene like a shadow, yanks her gropers head back, and slits his throat right then and there. The others take a few steps back, mist rises from their gaping mouths as he lets go of the bleeding slump, looking at the pulsing, open vein as if he intends to drink from it. But it seems he only wanted to confirm that the dead stay dead because his interest in this man fades as quickly as it was aroused.

She rises to her feet, only to get swept off them as he dives for her hips and raises her to a crude carry, mainly meant for wheat sacks and sheep.

With a wide palm resting on her butt, he hauls her back to his fire, further away from the open field, and she doesn’t dare to utter a word. He doesn’t squeeze her, he doesn’t grope or slap or force her, but he does throw the fur away from her shoulders to check her body for bruises. She stays silent for the whole inspection as he moves her joints and limbs to check if anything’s broken, carefully like she indeed was only a little lamb. Brushes the pads of his fingers across the darkening spots that tell a story of violence, and it makes her shiver.

They’re just bruises, but they’re also evidence that her body is not her own anymore. Still, this clinical inspection feels far more intimate and warm than the rough hands and demanding mouths from before: it’s not just the intention behind the touch, it’s his presence.

You’ve never felt so thoroughly seen.

A low rumble rises in agreement to you taking his probing so well, and you kind of wish he would hold you tonight.

Just… Hold you.

When he withdraws, content with finding you relatively intact after the attempted assault, you grab his wrist. His head snaps back instantly, but he doesn’t pry himself away from your insolent little fingers. If anything, he’s curious.

You don’t know his words, and he doesn’t know yours, so you decide it’s best not to speak at all.

Pulling his palm back, you bring it to your hip, then further up to your waist, trying to make it clear that it’s only closeness and body warmth you seek. You leave it there, and it stays there, out of its own free will. A thumb brushes over your ribs, explorative. His eyes travel, they move down the line of your neck and try to decide what you might want from him, but then you see the fathomless depths he’s been hiding. His eyes come alive, and there’s such darkness there, an unquenchable well of want that shoots fear straight down your stomach.

You were wrong about him, so wrong…

He’s not disinterested, he’s just been holding back a tide as if it’s no big deal to fight back the very gods on his own.

His palm feels like fire, but he doesn’t move, only battles with his demons for a while. You lie there before him, feeling utterly idiotic for thinking he’s different from the rest of the men.

But then… The fur gets drawn over your half naked body. Slowly, deliberately. He’s not reverent: he only knows the consequences of his actions, and this is a path he does not wish to take.

It doesn’t prevent him from laying himself down to sleep next to you, however.

It doesn’t prevent you from slowly reaching an arm around him, the rigid form that slowly, so slowly turns lax. You risk to curl against him: not safe, only warm. A stray royal cat and a ghoul who collects bones, you think, but then the ghoul sighs and turns. You should feel rejected from the way he presents his back to you, but you suspect that it has something to do with him coming alive downstairs.

And you cling to him.

He doesn’t rip you off of him as you slip a hand under his arm and bend against him, like a river otter who just found a fat clam. His solemn breaths lull you to sleep, and he stays still for you: all night until the birds start to sing and the sun warms your face, the whole heap of you two.

Like a big pile of snow, melting on a summer’s day…

#writing for Ghost is like #trying to start an engine that was forgotten outside for the whole fucking winter ://

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cod-imagines-fanfiction · 1 year ago

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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.3k words, part 2)

Summary: Valeria despairs when you don't answer her calls and immediately returns to her residence, only to find you gone. In the meantime, Graves presses you for information, and Alejandro starts to understand why Valeria hides you so well.

TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Valeria and very toxic Alejandro (OOC but I think it adds juicy drama, sorry for ruining him!). Mentions of death and violence. apologies for the imperfect Spanish, I've been using Google Translate! I titled this as 'Valeria's girlfriend' but I ended up writing them as kind of unofficially married. Link to part 1 Link to part 3 Link to A03

Valeria knew something was wrong when you didn't pick up the phone. In all your years together, she never had to call for you more than once, you were always at her beck and call. Her face turned to stone as the call went to voicemail, it felt like her heart stopped and then started again with fire and poison. In hindsight, she should have worried about your safety first, but unfortunately, her insecurities got the best of her. Anger seethed within her as she thought of all the ways you had betrayed her the moment she left you alone. Infidel! Her right-hand man Rafael was looking at you closely when she left, no? How could she be so blind as to trust you? Of course, you were jumping around with her men behind her back - you seemed all innocent and pure, but sure enough the viper within revealed itself and finally slithered out of her tight grasp. Immediately, she called Rafael to check up on the house, and when he also didn't pick up the phone, she cut her trip short and packed her bags. El Sin Nombre doesn't need to explain why she's leaving early! She commanded her business partners to figure it out amongst themselves as she went to her chopper and rushed home. Her hands shook as she navigated the helicopter, her mind unable to stop thinking of all the ways you were intertwined with Rafael on your marriage bed; desecrating your marriage vows. Of course this would happen. Why would fate let Valeria get away with the betrayal she'd inflicted on Alejandro? It was only right that her karmic debt would catch up with her.

It was as she was lowering her helicopter on the freshly cut grass of your home that she began to realise her devastating mistake. Doors were left open with the curtains billowing with the wind, broken glass from shattered windows littered the entryway and, worst of all, dried trails of blood lead a path from the house to the bushes. Her heart caught at her throat as her eyes roamed frantically from one catastrophic sign to the other. Guilt coiled around her stomach and she cursed her darkness for having doubted your loyalty when really, you were fighting for your life. "Mi esposa," Valeria whispered as rushed out of her helicopter, the blades still cutting the air as she ran indoors, not even bothering to be cautious of any enemies that could still be lurking within the shadows. She knew there were bodies dumped behind the green bushes that you so tenderly cared for, but she couldn't make herself check for you there. Part of her hoped you were smart and had the time to hide somewhere good, but she knew you were as helpless as a child when it came to things like this. You, who were so kind and good, left to fend for yourself. How could she possibly think you'd remain unharmed within this field of work? Valeria selfishly forced a divine light like you to live in the shadows with her, of course you'd get snuffed out eventually. If not by Valeria's own hand, her selfishness and greed, her need to possess and own you at all times, then by the selfish and greedy hands of others. All these thoughts rushed through her as she ran from one hallway to another, rushing to your part of the mansion. Memories of violence clung to your home like spiderwebs, she could see the struggle that ensued in the doors left open when you'd normally keep them closed. In the flower vase that you lovingly refilled every week that now lay on the floor shattered, shattered like her heart. The flowers lay on the floor, dying.

"Mi corazon...," she whimpered and came to a stop right before your bedroom door, one hand clutching her chest as she stood there, too afraid to step in and face your fate. She could only hear the wind catching on your curtains and the light humming of your electric blanket. She could already picture the catastrophe. You were in bed, lathering your lotions on, probably adjusting your night light because you were too afraid to sleep in the dark without Valeria next to you. You were all snuggled for bed, probably waiting for her call on the phone, when somebody came for you. "God, give me courage," she said as she stepped inside and lifted her eyes.

It was as if you evaporated into thin air. She saw the marks your body left on the bed where you lay on it and your phone was still there. Valeria's eyes scanned every inch of the space, no blood or other fluids were on any of the surfaces. You were either taken, or whatever happened to you happened elsewhere. All your belongings were still there. She didn't want to have false hope, so she willed herself to look at the bodies left by the bushes. She charged through the rest of the houses, taking note of all the mess. Her chopper was still on as she crossed the garden you tended to, the sweet smell of roses faintly covering the stench of blood lifting from the pile of bodies. Rafael was there, along with the rest of her men who manned the house in her absence. Treacherous relief washed through her because you were not there. This was the most devastating attack that Valeria had ever experienced in all her years and she could not think of anyone that hated her enough to do this. A rival cartel? Unlikely. They were violent criminals, sure, but they still kept a code of conduct amongst themselves. El Sin Nombre was the biggest competitor out there, no one was so stupid as to do this.

Valeria went to the security room and saw the CCTV footage. Her heart stopped when she saw an all-too-familiar figure invading her home. The tall, dark man cut through her men and made his way directly to where her wife lay. It's like he knew exactly where she was. "Alejandro?" Valeria's heart dropped as she watched Alejandro prepare to break the door and attack her wife, who was shrouded in a naive innocence where she could never comprehend the attack she was about to experience.

Angry tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes as she saw Alejandro's hand grab you by the throat and drag you out of your marital bed. The same bed that you made love in every night, now permanently defiled with the way he violently dragged you out of it. Bruises from his fingers would have definitely formed on your soft skin by now, if you were still alive. Valeria watched on as Alejandro handcuffed her wife and pushed her through the hallways, saying something to her ear whilst parading her through the home she was supposed to be safe in. It was no coincidence that Alejandro stared directly at one of the cameras as he pushed her wife forward, looking directly at Valeria's eyes. This was no incidental operation; this was deliberate and malicious. More so, it was fucking personal. Yes, this was where Valeria ran her operation, but it was also the home you and her nested in so lovingly. And now it was trampled all over by men in uniforms, just like those fallen flowers. She forced herself to watch on as you were put in a helicopter and disappeared in the night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you're ready to talk now, sweetheart." After a few hours of silence, the door to the container you were kept in opened, bringing in some rays of sunlight before shutting again. The American, whom you now knew was called Commander Graves, entered along with Alejandro. It had been many hours since your abduction, you had no way of telling how long exactly. But you were tired and restless, and cold. You thought they might move you to a cell at least, but they made no effort to transfer you out of the metal container. Too afraid to say anything when not spoken to, you sat still and waited. You wondered if Valeria had noticed your absence yet but even if she did, how could she find you? "I'm not sure what to tell you, sir." You remained polite hoping that courtesy would make up for your lack of talking. "Don't be like that, there's plenty to tell. How about we start with this little business trip of hers?" Graves circled around you, placing his hand on your shoulder before finally coming to a stop. " What'du hear about it?" Graves had many years of experience underneath his belt when it came to interrogation, especially the violent ones. And so did the 141. That was made very clear from the beginning. If this was any ordinary member of the cartel, they'd have buried them by now. But spouses were different; you hurt them and there'll be hell to pay. Even worse, there'll be no chance of making a deal with Valeria. "Like I said, I just know she went away for it, sir, that's all."

"Hm," he said and dropped his hand. He moved to stand right in front of you. "Well, you must know something. You know she's El Sin Nombre. You know she runs the biggest drug cartel in Latin America. You know she runs an international operation, you know she has friends in many places. What am I missing here?"

You looked up at him. "That's basically it, sir. It's a drug operation. But I don't know where it comes from, who her manufacturers are, or how she sells it. She doesn't deal with small details." Graves was starting to lose his patience, and not with her but with Alejandro. He couldn't understand why he insisted on extracting a housewife instead of the real deal. Here he was trying to gather intel on those Russian missiles with a trophy wife who hasn't had a day out of the kitchen, let alone discussions with the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. It was time to cut loose and make the call. "Hermano, take over for me will ya? I'll be right back." Graves walked away, wondering what General Sherperd will think of this whole situation.

You were alone with Alejandro now, who paced up and down the compound like a restless animal. You wondered to yourself how similar he was to Valeria, she had the exact same habit when she was stressed. They were very similar in temperament; too similar. Aggressive, hard-headed and dominant. Part of you gloated at the whole situation. Here was a Colonel of the Mexican Army, a well-decorated military man, wasting his time with you, someone quite irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, all because of- "Your wife," he said, disrupting your thoughts and you suddenly realised you were staring at him. "Is that correct?" He nodded at your ring finger. "Yes, sir," you replied timidly. He was exactly like Valeria, and it worked in your favour. You've spent so many years living with your partner that it was almost too easy to deal with people like her. People who could fill up a room with their presence; intimidating, powerful people who could hurt you badly. The sort of people who made the world go round. People, in other words, who could be domesticated.

Because violence and intimidation aren't the only ways to get what you want. Alejandro scoffed, "you've come a long way from that food stand, huh?" He looked at you with a faraway look in his eye, his mind having entered that shrouded area of the psyche where apparitions of the past hover, always eager to glide into the present in the form of memories. Your heart softened both at the memory he was referencing and because, at that moment, he seemed so pitifully sad, having lost himself in reminiscence.

Many years ago, you helped your Abuela run her restaurant in Las Almas, which stood very close to where the Mexican Army had its headquarters. Your Abuela was a genius in strategy and profited a lot from the laziness of soldiers who couldn't be bothered to cook for themselves but who also didn't want to eat whatever the Army served. And that's how you met Valeria, who was regularly sent by her teammates to fetch a group order. Valeria picked up the food because it was expected of her, an unfortunate burden of being one of the youngest women in her squad. But over time, she did it because it meant she got to see you. To everyone's surprise, when Valeria ran away to work for the cartel, that quiet girl in the small restaurant vanished too. "Alejandro." His eyes snapped back into yours. "Lo siento mucho. I really didn't know about you and Valeria. I am not that kind of person." You knew exactly what this was all about. Sure, they wanted to get El Sin Nombre and Valeria *was* the head of the biggest drug operation in the world. And she *has* made Las Almas dance to the rhythm of her tune for the past decade. But this was all just a big temper tantrum. And if you played your cards right, you could leave unscathed. You continued, "Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. I am truly sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Something changed in his eyes. You could already picture what was about to happen. After your sincere self-flogging will come his pity, then the remorse. He might chuck you in a cell to show that he's treating you like the criminal collaborator that they all think you are, but soon enough he'll arrive bearing the fruits of forgiveness. Just like Valeria, you told yourself. Like moths to a flame. "Hm," he mumbled to himself, his eyes roaming all over you. "I get it now." He cocked his head to the side, "eres una cosa encantadora." At that moment, you felt a change in the air, something dark hovered between you two. It made you shiver.

"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?"

Hope you enjoy this part! Promised tags: @justmare @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @lesvii @silas-222 I'll bring Valeria and her partner together in part 3! I've also thought of a cute backstory for them that I want to get into :) also sorry for ruining Alejandro, i made him so toxic in this fic 😭

#call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #valeria garza x female reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader #cod mw2 #cod valeria imagine

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succubusdaydream · 10 months ago

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By The Grace of The Moon || Astarion x Werewolf!Selunite!Reader

Masterlist || Words: 2865

Started on 10/14/23- Finished on 1/6/24

AN: Dialogue later on may seem a bit ooc, as well as characters themselves. I had to look up and go back through dialogue to get lines right. I am also trying to keep the reader gender neutral and I will be referring to them as Tav later on. Enjoy my second writing and my first BG3 fic, more is defiantly on it's way. This is also only the FIRST part. I wrote more than I thought I would so I've decided to split them into parts. I'm writing more onto the second part so I'll try to have it up soon <3

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Why would your goddess do this to you? Had you done something to anger your Silver Lady? No. You worshipped her beneath every beautiful moon she would raise. The twinkling of her stars were music to your ears. So why. Why did your heart stop when you met his piercing red eyes? Why did you get so scared when he would get injured? And why did you seek and crave his presence? A vampire. Your natural enemy.

You had been cursed with Lycanthropy from a young age. Your parents had gone to any cleric or healer they could find. But none could help you condition. So they turned to Selune. Goddess of the moon. The very thing you would stare at every night. Waiting. Waiting to turn into a beast once its full beauty would light up the village you lived in. They started praying to her, crying out for help. And help she did.

Your goddess sent down a light. It helped control you condition, keeping your beast from rampaging every month. You still had your enhanced abilities. Sight, smell, hearing, agility. And with research, your parents helped you though your young years with the continued worship of Selune.

With that research, came a longing. Every young child dreams of love. And with your sickness, your Goddess promised you a love. A soulmate. One every Lycan is blessed with. You would dream of them every night as a child. How much they would love you, and you them. How you wedding would be like that of a fairytale read to little ones before bed. A large white dress, a beautiful train and the most hypnotizing of melodies playing as you danced the night away.

But those dreams were halted that night. The night the Illithids appeared over your village. And you were forced to wake up. The tadpole that now squirmed in your head made you powers unpredictable. You feared how following nights would be.

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You had awoken on a beach, surrounded by the crashed ship that once held you prisoner. You couldn’t recall everything that happened, but you do remember fighting devils and imps with a Githyanki. ‘Lae’zel’, you recalled. You didn’t see her around anywhere, but also no body. ‘Hopefully she’s alive, she was strong so I doubt she got taken out by anything close by.’

Not too far in front of you lied a woman. Long dark hair held by chains, a dark circlet decorating her forehead. Slowly approaching, you could both hear her breath and see her chest heaving. In her hand was an oddly shaped…thing. Choosing to ignore is in favor of her wellbeing, you reached forward. Grasping her shoulders and shaking her awake.

“Wha- I’m alive? You’re alive.” Helping her to her feet, she looked around at the wreck that surrounded you. “How is this possible.”

“I’m not sure. Are you hurt? I don’t remember seeing you on the ship.” The Githyanki was the only person you came across. You had assumed there were others, but with the ship crashing and buring, you were in a bit of a rush to escape.

“Not that I know of. I remember being stuck in that pod. I think I saw you running away with another person. And then the ship crashed.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check for others. I wouldn’t have tried to help you.” You wrung your fingers together and looked down the beach, examining the path that stretched on. “What now?”

“I suppose we find a healer. What ever those monsters put into out heads can’t be good.”

After making sure neither of you were injured and making proper introductions, learning her name was Shadowheart, you set forward and came across three of the brain creatures you had seen wandering the ship. They weren’t too tough to handle, but after getting rid of them your hearing picked up a static to your right.

It was coming from a rune. An out of control looking rune, it’s magic swirling violently. As you reach out to touch the rune, a hand suddenly emerge from it and a voice immediately follows. “A hand? Anyone?” It was a male’s voice. Your senses hadn’t alerted you to any danger, so you reach to intertwine your hand with his, you other hand on his wrist.

And with a strong pull, a body dawned in purple robes flew out from it. You stood and brushed your clothes off as he spoke his thanks. “Hello. I’m Gale, of Waterdeep.” He reaches forward to shake your hand. “Apologies, I’m normally better at these sorts of things.”

“At introductions?” You shook is hand in return, a smirk passing your lips as you tried to lightly joke with him. It seemed to work, as he let out a small chuckle.

“At magic. Say, but I know you, don’t I? I saw you, upon the nautilloid.” Gods, just how many people did you run past? With all the chaos happening you suppose your senses couldn’t keep up. But you didn’t realize just how many people were stuck in pods on the same ship.

“I was, I guess I missed more people than I thought, had I seen you I assure you I would have done my best to help.” You looked him over for injuries but didn’t catch any scents of blood.

“No worries. But I suppose it’s safe to say you were a victim too. On the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region?” He tapped the side of his head, right next to his eye no doubt referring to the worm that now infected your brain.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it. Not the most pleasant experience I’ve dealt with in my life.” You crossed your arms and tilted your head, able to tell he wasn’t done talking yet.

“Yes well, no use sugar coating it. This parasite we carry, are you aware that after a few days of extrusion gestation, it will turn us into mindflayers?” His pitched was raised in a slight panic. Understandable, you had a worm in your brain that’s going to turn you into tentacle monsters within a certain number of very painful days. “You don’t happen to be a cleric by any chance, do you?”

It was at this point that Shadowheart spoke up from behind you. “It seems you know enough about out condition to know that this is far beyond a cleric’s skill.”

“Most, but I hope to be in the presence of the few who are able to help. You don’t happen to be one of them?” He eyed between you two.

“No, I can treat most injuries and sicknesses, but I am no cleric.” You weren’t wrong. While you worshipped Selune and did almost everything in her name, you were not a cleric. More of a hunter who was able to make remedies and teas with herbs that you would scavenge for.

“Well then, we’re most going to need a healer, and quite soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for one together?” He gestures between himself and you, raising a brow in anticipation. And with a shrug, Gale of Waterdeep was following your two man, now three man, party as you turned back to the direction you came from.

Although, as you turned, a strong gust of wind brought you a wonderful smell. That of Rosemary, bergamot, and…brandy? Either way, it made you heart flutter and your feet move faster. You swiftly walked passed the creatures you had taken out, you thoughts running as the scent got stronger.

‘Is this it? This sweet scent, my aching and racing heart all point to it. My mate. They smell amazing. Nothing has smelt like this to me before. Selune, my lady of silver, if you have blessed with my mate after this tragedy I thank you.’

Rounding over a small hill, you saw the source of the scent. A white-haired elf dressed in elegant purple clothing. Your body froze at the sight of him. It looked as if the heavens shown behind him as he turned to beckon you closer. And when he spoke, he sounded like an angel singing praise. “Hurry! I’ve cornered one of those brain things. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

Snapping back to reality, you cleared your throat and nearly jumped at the chance to protect him. “Easily, step back.” You stepped forward, a slight pungent smell hit your nose. A boar shot out of the bushes as you jumped, the noise startling you. And from the corner of you eye, you noticed a glint. Spinning around you came face to face with your mate, holding a knife up at you in a defensive position.

“I saw you on the ship, strutting about while I was trapped in that pod!” His knife raised higher as you shuffled away, holding your hands up in defense. “What did you and those tentacled freaks do to me?” His voice was low as his red eyes glared into yours.

“No! I was taken to! I had nothing to do with them.”

“I’m not an idiot! I saw-agh!” He cried out as your minds merged. You were looking through his eyes and out to dark street. Lurking as people passed. But before you could look further, the image faded. “What was that? What’s going on?”

You breath heaved as you looked deeper into his eyes, a small smile appearing as his knife lowered. “I-I don’t know, but something connected us.” Something other than my goddess.

“It’s those monsters. Whatever they did you us caused that link. They took you too. I saw it.” He sighed and put away his weapon. “Ands to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.” His voice truly was like music.

“Apology accepted. I might have done the same if the roles were reversed.” I wouldn’t.

“Ah~ A kindred spirit. My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me.” Astarion? Even his name is angelic. No wonder it’s taken so long for you to meet him. Your village was located a few days away from the big city. You never made trips there, only your father and hunting parties would make the travel. Selling crops, clothing and any other good your village made.

“From the city? I lived quite a ways away. I was taken while hunting. I’m not sure how long it’s been.” It wasn’t entirely wrong. You were hunting but not the type people would assume. It was late when you were snatched. A beautiful moon guided your path as you ran after a deer, your paws silently hitting the ground as your muzzle snapped for its tail.

“Oh? A hunter? That could be useful. So, do you know anything about these worms?” He placed his hands on his hips and raised a brow.

“Yes. Unfortunately, they’ll turn us into mind flayers.” As if I couldn’t become more of a beast. Your thoughts though were swiftly cut by his scoff of disbelief.

“Turn us into-ha…haha! Of course it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?” His words trailed off as he looked to the dirt road beneath you. “Although…it hasn’t happened yet. If we find an expert, someone that can control these things- there still might be time.” He raised his hand to his chin in thought.

If we find someone? He wanted to travel together? With you? “Y-you could come along with us. Our odds are better if we travel together.” Gods, do I sound desperate? Please take my offer.

His eyes met yours again as a smirk formed on his face. “You know, I was ready to go this alone, but…maybe sticking with you isn’t such a bad idea.” Yes! A perfect idea. “You seem like a useful person to know.” His words seemed like they held something behind them, but you didn’t much care. As long as your mate followed. “Alright! I accept, lead on.”

You could barely suppress the smile that tried to cross your face. “Ahem, alright. Let’s move then.” You cleared your throat and finally broke eye contact, looking further down the road and heading that direction. “I hear something ahead, we’ll start there.” As you walked passed him, his scent filled your nose once more. He truly did smell heavenly. I’ll keep him safe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Further down the trail, you had encountered a group of refugees begging at a gate. At the top were tieflings, refusing to open until their supposed leader showed up, demanding the gates be open as a pack of goblins appeared to attack. It didn’t take long for you to help defeat them and you quickly slipped through the gate with everyone, making sure your group was okay and mostly uninjured.

You found yourselves in a Druid’s Grove. Although with their issues, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last. It was to be closed off soon and everyone but the druids themselves were to be kicked out. After communing with the leader of the tieflings, you had decided your day had been busy enough and had led your group to a clear spot deeper into the grove.

You had all set up tents around a fire and laid out bedrolls for when you were all ready to sleep. As you finished setting out supplies and changing out of you day clothes, your gaze drifted over to your silver haired mate. He sat outside his tent, a thick book in his hands and his eyes lazily drifting over its contents. You quickly took a deep breath, muttering a quick ‘you got this’ before making your way over to his figure.

Hearing your approach, he glanced up. “Yes?” Ouch, not the greeting I was hoping for. Did he not feel the connection you goddess had blessed you with? Even non-Lycans were rumored to feel something.

You let out an embarrassing laugh and cleared your throat. “I uh- I was just wanting to check on you. What do you think about our journey so far?” You could tell me anything and I’d listen, please just talk to me.

“Well, not much has happened. We’re in a grove that’s close to impending doom and we have worms in our brain. Pretty shit journey so far, wouldn’t you say.” Ok, so he’s not having a very good time right now, but who would? Defiantly not you.

“That’s true. I’m sure we can find a healer here, they’re druids after all. Perhaps we’ll be rewarded if we help out with their little issue.” You let out a short chuckle but quickly closed you lips as a sneer appeared on his.

“Help out? It’s not our issue. I say we find a healer and move on. No need to get caught up in fights that aren’t ours.” Okay, a little self-centered but it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with someone like him. And he’s pretty, so it’s ok.

“You don’t think we, should help out? Even for a reward?” He shook his head, and stood, setting his book down to give you his full attention.

“The reward better be big if we stick around to help a little war. Either way, I still don’t like it.” His eyes met yours. “Was there anything else?” Let’s turn to other matters.

“Uuuhh, tell me a bit about yourself. It’s good to get to know each other if we’ll be traveling closely. What did you use to do in the city? I’ve never been so I want to know all about it.” I want to know all about you.

He scoffed. “Oh what’s to tell? I’m a magistrate back in the city, it’s all rather tedious.” A magistrate? I should have guessed he was in a position of high power; his clothes look like it.

“A magistrate? That sounds cool. What’s the city like?” Don’t stop talking. I still want to know more about you.

You couldn’t quite tell, but his eyes seemed to hold that of annoyance. You’re lucky that your ears and tails weren’t visible unless you were shifted. If they were, your laid-back ears and tucked tail would give away your worry to this. That’s possibly the last thing that you want right now, to upset your mate and annoy him.

“Depends on the area I suppose. The main upper city is quite busy. Especially at night, people out and about, drinking and…well the whole city is busy. I don’t normally get out much though.” His sentence trailed off, a smirk crossing his face before it quickly vanished. “Now was there something else you wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, umm, no. No I suppose that’s really it. Goodnight, Astarion, sleep well. I’ll be keeping watch so, you don’t have to worry about anything attacking.” I would gladly give up any sleep to make sure you’re protected.

“Why thank you, Darling. I’ll surely sleep better knowing you’re watching.” And with his words, you would spend the night walking the perimeter of your camp with your heart racing and thoughts spinning out of control.

---

Masterlist || Part 2

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 x tav #tav reader

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago

Note

hi mira i’m going to rq for jjk (gojo specifically) :) kinda inspired by a fic idea of mine so if i see you post it maybe it’ll give me inspo to actually write too LOL — this is also a little long sorry, you can shorten as you wish 😓 maybe it’ll get the brain juices going idk

Y/N was really close to geto (i was thinking siblings but do whatever) and when he turned curse user and left, it made Y/N rethink why she was a sorcerer herself. she believed in geto’s ideals, but seeing his mindset 180 made her question if the same thing would happen to her since she was always weaker-minded than him. so she quit dropped out of the school and gojo never saw her since

skipping to the present, Y/N became a sorcerer again after having a conversation with geto some time before he died. with yuji being sukuna’s vessel, she goes to the school herself and sees gojo (their last convo was actually an argument leaving everything [him] behind). gojo’s just really stubborn, but he’s there when Y/N really needs him. from there they only keep encountering each other until they make up, their feelings are all out on the table, etc. etc.

── CHIAROSCURO

Synopsis: You don’t really know who you are without Suguru Geto. Satoru Gojo doesn’t know who he is without either of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo x Reader, Geto & Reader have something less than romantic but more than platonic going on

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: angst, mentions of death, flawed y/n character, major time skips, most plot events happen off screen, characters are probably ooc tbh i haven’t written for jjk in months

A/N: finally finished the first of the requests I’ve received so far!! it ended up being way more geto-centric than i had planned for it to be though i’m so sorry angel 😭 and it was also getting way too long so i decided to end it by just hinting the development of the rest of the story you mentioned LMAO i hope that’s okay 😫

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Most people grew up with one shadow, but according to your mother, you had lived your entire life with two. The first was the same as the one everyone had, that darkening of the ground in the shape of your figure. The second was the boy who lived next door — or, at least, that was what she told you.

His name was Suguru Geto, and despite his dark features and darker clothing, he had a perpetually sunny demeanor, always quick to offer you a gentle smile whenever you glanced his way. He was polite even when it wasn’t required of him, and though your mother teased you for it, you knew she was secretly grateful for his presence in your life.

The greatest thing Suguru had ever done for you, though, was not teach you manners. It was that he gave you someone to follow. Perhaps it was true that he was your shadow, but it was his in which you cowered when you were frightened, when the brightness of the world was too harsh for your eyes, which, when it came to cruelties and horrors, were as sensitive and new as a child’s.

Suguru was always happy to take on that role. He would stand in front of you, his shoulder blades pinching together as he puffed out his chest and rebuked whichever neighborhood child had dared to tease you. They all ran from him when he was like that, when his brow grew heavy over his eyes and the corners of his mouth twisted into a scowl.

Not you, though. You stayed behind his back, blinking owlishly at the way the others scurried, laughing along when Suguru likened them to mice with a click of his tongue.

Suguru didn’t like those who hurt the ones weaker than them, so you didn’t, either. Suguru thought that the role of the strong was to protect the frail, so you did, too. Whatever Suguru believed, you did as well, because what else was there for you? It was easier for you to hold onto his hand and press against his back, to allow him to tell you where to place your feet, so that there was never even a chance of you falling.

That was why it wasn’t a surprise that, upon Suguru being scouted as a sorcerer, you were extended the same invitation. It was a natural consequence — where he went, you followed, and so when he packed his things and went to Tokyo, it was both of your bags that he was carrying, while you peered around the train station and wondered what kind of place you were going to end up in.

Your new classmate was the one that picked the two of you up. He was tall — taller than even Suguru, though the majority of his body consisted of his legs — and had an unearthly appearance, with pale hair carefully mussed into a seemingly thoughtless style and black glasses which slid down the bridge of his nose to reveal eyes like diamonds.

He was the most brilliant thing you had ever seen. Lowering your eyes, you stepped back into Suguru’s shadow, earning you a scoff from your classmate and a worried exhale from your friend.

“Blech,” he said. “You’re supposed to be my classmate, really? How’re you going to keep up, huh? I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world, you know.”

“I think we’ll manage just fine,” Suguru said pleasantly, though there was an edge to his voice, his teeth like knives when he smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Satoru Gojo,” your classmate said, shaking Suguru’s hand firmly. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Suguru said. “And this is Y/N L/N.”

“Hi,” you said, swallowing even as you said it, pursing your lips and glancing around, wishing for some kind of escape. Gojo hummed and then poked you on the forehead.

“Aw,” he said when you did not visibly react beyond furrowing your brow. “I thought you might fall over or something.”

“I see,” you said. “Um. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go before our teacher gives us all detention for playing hooky.”

Unlike Suguru, Gojo didn’t allow you to follow him around. He made fun of you when you were scared and poked you on the forehead if you cringed away from his taunts. The latter occurred so frequently that you were surprised there was not a permanent indent in your skin.

“One day I’ll get you, pretty Y/N,” he’d always promise you. “Seriously! I mean, you barely have a backbone in the first place, so it’s really a wonder you’re standing at all.”

At first, Suguru used to demand he stop, but as the months went by, his protests grew weaker and weaker. You supposed that it must’ve been nice for him, to stand beside someone for once instead of constantly throwing himself in front of them. You could not blame him, but you found that you missed him more with every passing day.

But what was there to be done about it? After all, you were nothing compared to the two special grade sorcerers. You did what you could and found it was, for the most part, sufficient, but sufficient would never let you exist beside either of them in any way that mattered. So you fell behind, and this time, it was not a conscious choice but an unavoidable circumstance. This time, when you hung back, Suguru continued forward without you.

Empty-minded and weak-hearted. That was what your teacher called you. He sent you on the simplest missions he could, and still you struggled. Sometimes, this meant you would sit alone in the classroom until it was long past dusk, listening to your teacher ramble and shout.

“You are not weak!” he would say, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “By all rights, your technique is perfectly serviceable. You are not weak, Y/N L/N!”

“Yes, sir,” you would respond meekly.

“At least, you should not be,” he’d say. “Yet somehow, inexplicably, you are. Even a Grade 2 curse nearly got the better of you. Your classmates are exorcising special grades on their own! Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?”

Suguru, and sometimes Gojo, would wait outside of the door for you, lingering until they heard the shuffle of your feet, the soft sniffles which announced your arrival. Then Suguru would wrap a casual arm around your shoulders and tell you that it was fine if you were weak, just as long as he was around to protect you, and Gojo would do that infuriating thing where he’d poke you in the forehead and pretend like it was a miracle you hadn’t toppled over yet.

Otherwise, you did not see your classmates. Shoko Ieri was far too busy learning to do things you could never hope to accomplish in your lifetime, and Suguru and Gojo were called on to complete assignments with such unhealthy regularity that their education actually suffered for it.

You never knew what they did on their missions. You never cared to ask, either. The details would only make you queasy, and in this new world where you were not permitted to shudder and seek out the safety that Suguru so willingly provided you with, you tried to avoid things like that. Harsh things, brilliant things, cruel things — all of them you ran from at an equal pace. Without Suguru there to defend you, you turned into one of those children he had so-despised in your youth. Always running. Always hiding. Always shying away from anything resembling a challenge.

It was after one such mission that Suguru returned differently. You knew he had changed because he crawled into your bed that night instead of his own, drew the blanket up around his shoulders and pressed his weeping eyes against your collarbones.

“It’s no good,” he said after the third time you had asked him what was the matter, your hands nervously skimming over his shoulders, smoothing over his rough hair. “Everything’s been ruined, Y/N. Or maybe it was always like this. Maybe you’re the only one who’s ever understood the world to begin with.”

The next morning, when his feet touched the ground and he slid out of your bed, you were hit with the strangest feeling that you would never see him again. Not in the way you were used to seeing him, anyways. Sitting up in your bed, leaning against your pillows, you watched as he left, though when he went to close the door behind him, you reached out your hand.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, raising his eyebrows.

“Is everything okay?” he said, his knuckles growing white from gripping the handle.

“I want to look at you,” you said. You knew without knowing that the instant the door shut between the two of you, you would lose him forever. Your best friend. Your shadow. You wished that there was a way you could reach out and save him, but the thought of you saving someone was outlandish. Impossible. Laughable.

“Yeah?” he said. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and it did not reach his irises, but nevertheless, he somehow managed to muster up a smile. It was not gentle as much as it was exhausted, but still, he smiled as best he could at you. “Okay.”

You hugged one of the pillows to your chest. “I miss you a lot.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said.

“Not yet,” you said. “I think you will someday, though. You’ll go somewhere far away, and I won’t be able to follow you there. You won’t even want me to.”

“What kind of place is that?” he said. “I’ll always want you to follow me around, Y/N. As long as I’m there, not a corner on this planet could be a place I don’t want you to follow me to.”

The door creaked shut. You stared at the blank expanse and thought to yourself that he had always been very good at lying.

From that day forward, there were two opposite phenomena which occurred simultaneously. On the one hand, that blinding radiance of Gojo’s was magnified by the minute, and on the other, Suguru withdrew further and further into a grey sort of monotony that, try as you might, you could not pull him from.

“Gojo,” you said one day, tugging on his sleeve and flinching when he turned to look at you. As per usual, he pressed his finger into your forehead.

“Yikes,” he said. “Seems like you’re still lacking in the spinal department, dear Y/N. But just so you know, I’ve cheated off of your math homework enough times that you really shouldn’t be scared of me.”

“Please help Suguru,” you said.

“Eh?” Gojo said. “What do you mean? Help him with what, his math homework? I’ll just give him yours to copy as well, so why don’t you cut the middle man and show it to him yourself?”

“No, not with — just, he’s going away, and I don’t want him to, but he doesn’t — you’re the only one,” you stammered.

It was even more difficult to speak with Gojo now than it had been when you had first come to school. That was because it was only recently that you were realizing that that way he made you feel, that shyness, that apprehension, was not because of his gleaming, sharp countenance, but rather something else, something soft in your heart that thudded to life whenever he smirked at you.

“You want me to take his mission for him?” Gojo said, his nose wrinkling. “What, so the two of you can go on a date or something? Forget about it.”

“What?” you said. “No, what — a date — that’s not what I meant!”

It was too late. Gojo was gone, and with him, your last chance at helping Suguru vanished, too. In fact, Gojo avoided you until you went home from the summer break, making a face whenever you glanced his way, and by the time you came back to start the next year, it was too late for anyone to do much of anything.

“Y/N L/N,” Masamichi Yaga said, entering the library where you were writing a paper for your literature class. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his cheeks a dark, flushed color, his teeth gritted together so hard that a muscle in his jaw twitched periodically. “Do you have a moment? It’s urgent.”

“I was just working on the essay that we were assigned, but it can wait,” you said agreeably, all too eager to give yourself a break from the work. Pushing aside your paper and pen, you stood up, massaging your wrist. “What is it, sir?”

“It’s, er…” His shoulders slumped. “I’m really sorry, Miss L/N.”

You tried to run through the list of things that he could be sorry for, but only one thing came to mind. You froze, your eyes widening. He had been on a mission, hadn’t he?

“Suguru,” you breathed. “Is it — it’s not about Suguru, is it?”

“In a sense, it is,” Yaga said.

“Is he alright?” you said. “He has to be alright.”

“We believe his condition is fine, considering what he’s done,” Yaga said.

“‘What he’s done?’ Why are you being so vague? What’s going on, sir? Please say it plainly,” you said.

“It’s your parents, Miss L/N,” he said, spitting it out all at once like the phrase itself was poisoned. “They’re dead.”

Your stomach dropped. You had imagined so many things. In your nightmares, you saw your classmates dying, your teachers, even yourself. But never your parents. Your parents, who were so far removed from this awful world. Your parents, who only a month ago had sent you back to school with a pair of new shoes they had saved up to buy. You parents, who had never harmed anyone in their lives. What had they done that was so terrible it warranted such a sudden death? What were they being punished for?

“How — how did it happen?” you said. “Was it a curse?”

“Miss L/N…” Yaga said, his entire self deflating. “I’m really sorry.”

“What? Stop apologizing,” you said, tears gathering in your eyes. “Just tell me. Stop saying sorry and tell me!”

“It was most likely Suguru Geto,” he said, handing you a piece of paper. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the words. All residents of the village were killed. Jujutsu High investigated. Based on residuals…all 112…the work of Geto’s curse manipulation. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death.

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “No, why would he do that? My parents loved him, and he loved them, too! We grew up together, so why would he do that?”

“Based on the evidence, he most likely killed his own parents, too,” Yaga said. Your hands wound themselves in your hair as you tugged.

“That’s a lie,” you said. “Suguru isn’t like that. Suguru is good! Suguru looks out for those weaker than himself! He protects people, Yaga. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”

“Miss L/N—” he began, but you were already running, sprinting as fast as you could. There was no way. There was no way. There was no way.

Your house and the one beside it — Suguru’s house, a voice in the back of your mind nagged you, that’s Suguru’s house — were blocked off with yellow caution tape. Dozens of police officers were milling about the scene, barking into handheld radios, conversing tensely. One of them noticed you and extended an arm to stop your approach.

“Stay back, ma’am. This is an active crime scene. No outsiders allowed until the investigation has been concluded,” the officer said.

“That’s my house,” you whispered. “Officer, that’s my house. Why are there so many people here? It’s not true, is it?”

The officer didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The pitying frown on his face told you everything you needed to hear. It was true. It was true. Your parents, your parents were dead, and that meant —

What had it been like for them? Had your mother welcomed him? When she opened the door for him, had her eyes crinkled at the corners in greeting? Had she offered him tea, as she usually did, because she was so fond of him and he was so fond of the drink when made by her hand? And what of your father? Had he reached over to clap Suguru on the back, or had he tried to grab him in an affectionate headlock so that he could mess up his hair with all the zeal of a man half his age?

You threw up. Some of the vomit splattered onto the officer’s shoes, causing him to fold his lips into a thin, disapproving line. Taking a step back, he reached over to pat you on the back as you heaved and hacked, trying to expel the knowledge from your mind and finding that you were entirely unable to.

You walked back to the train station in a trance, your eyes reddened and glazed over, your mouth sour from the taste of the stale crackers the officer had handed you, your hands shoved in your pockets as you tried to remember to breathe through your nose. The officer had offered to escort you to the station, but you had refused. You needed the time to think, and anyways, what did it matter? No ordinary person could hurt you, and no sorcerer would.

“I didn’t think you’d come back alone,” a soft voice said from behind you. You turned around, your insides roiling at the very sound, your ears ringing as you took in Suguru’s casual posture. His hands, too, were in his pockets, and the streetlights cast misshapen, dancing shadows over his face, the effect worsened by the odd tilt of his head.

He was refusing to look at you. That was why he was standing like that. He couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes, and that was the only confirmation you needed.

“So what?” you said. “I did. Are you going to kill me next?”

“What?” he said. Briefly, he glanced up at you in alarm, and then, like he had remembered he didn’t deserve to feel betrayed by that kind of question, he slouched back down into the same apathy of earlier. “No.”

“Just do it,” you said. “Just do it, you fucking asshole! Why would — you — you killed my parents! You killed my parents, and now you’re just talking to me as if nothing happened? Why? Why would you…?”

His expression did not budge again. “They were filthy monkeys who deserved it.”

“Huh?” you said. The statement was so bizarre that, for a moment, your anger was forgotten. “What the fuck?”

“This world doesn’t need more non-sorcerers running around,” he said. “Every single curse you’ve ever fought, it’s their fault. Those idiots who don’t know how to control the meager amounts of cursed energy they have, they’re the ones who cause curses to manifest. You should be thanking me, Y/N. This’ll make your life that much easier.”

“Do you really think that's the case?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “With my entire heart, I think that it is.”

You had always, always followed Suguru. When he said to protect the weak, you did so. When he said to take care of others, you did that, too. Whatever he told you to believe, you believed. But how could you do that this time? How could you believe in the person who had murdered your parents?

“You killed my parents because of your stupid theory,” you said numbly. “You killed my parents. Suguru, you killed my parents.”

You didn’t care about the one hundred and twelve villagers. That was the most shameful thing: if it had just been that, then you might still have followed him. He could’ve convinced you — no. You could’ve convinced yourself that it was fine, that he really was looking out for you in that peculiar manner of his. It wouldn’t have been impossible. Even now, your resolve was so weak, and it was only the thought of your parents that allowed you to cling to it at all.

“They asked about you,” he said dully. “I let them. My own parents, I didn’t give them a chance to say anything, but yours…I let them ask. I guess you could consider it my last favor to you.”

The ringing grew louder. You pushed your palms against your ears in an effort to drown it out, but you couldn’t. If anything, it just grew louder and louder, more and more insistent. You couldn’t shake it off. You couldn’t make it go away, just like you couldn’t make Suguru’s words go away.

“It was the only thing they worried about. In their last moments, it wasn’t their own lives they begged for…it was yours,” he said, his gaze far away, his irises unreadable as he recalled that moment. “How strange is that?”

“Shut up,” you said.

“I told them you were okay,” he said.

“Shut up,” you repeated, though it was unsteady and unconvincing. “Shut up, shut up.”

“They were pretty happy about that,” he said, in a tone filled with dreamy recollection. “They didn’t fight much after I promised you’d be okay. What simple creatures they must have been, that even while dying they could only think to rejoice!”

You screamed. It was wordless and brittle, a symptom of your lungs’ collapse as you broke into sobs, fumbling in your purse for your phone. Suguru watched as you unsteadily punched in a number you had never bothered to save, not trying to stop you, maybe not seeing the point.

“Gojo,” you said when he picked up, before he could even say anything. “Gojo, please just — can you come get me? Please come get me.”

“Okay,” he said, to your surprise. He didn’t argue or call it a waste of time or point out that you were still bawling as you spoke. “Where are you? I can be there pretty soon if I steal one of the managers’ cars, I think.”

“By my house,” you said. Suguru did not move, showing you his hands, as if he was giving you permission to do what you wanted. It was your choice. If you just told Gojo that he was with you, then you had no doubt he’d be apprehended within minutes.

“I see,” he said. “I’ll be there as quickly as possible.”

You were the one who hung up, not him. You were the one who made the decision. You were the one who looked at Suguru and then turned your back to him so that, for once, he was the one behind you.

“I can’t reconcile it,” you said, using the ends of your sleeves to blot at your tears as you hiccuped. “I can’t understand it. Even after everything, I still want to follow you. I still want you to be my shadow. I still want to be yours.”

Don’t turn. Don’t turn. Don’t turn. You couldn’t turn around. If you turned around, then that meant your old teacher was right. Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. You could not turn around.

A dry breeze rustled through the leaves on the ground, sounding like footsteps against pavement. Don’t turn.

You turned. You should’ve known better than to expect anything different from yourself. You had never been someone who could stand in the front for very long. You would always turn. You would always run and cower and hide.

Anything you might’ve said died on your tongue as you saw he was already gone. You were alone. You had let him go. You had allowed that mass murderer, that criminal, to walk away from you. What kind of a sorcerer were you? Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. That sort, then. The horrible sort.

When the headlights of the car Gojo had borrowed swung around the corner, you had long since curled up on the grass, your cheek to the mud as you tried to grasp what you had done.

“Hey,” Gojo said. “Y/N?”

He must’ve gotten out of the car at some point, because suddenly, he was crouching before you, pulling you to your feet, his limbs awkward and gangly as he cocked his head, still wearing those ridiculous sunglasses despite the darkness.

“I’m a piece of shit,” you said, and then you were clutching the collar of his uniform jacket. “Why am I like this?”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“He killed my parents,” you said. “He killed my parents, and I let him walk away.”

“Who?” Gojo said, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew who. You looked up at him miserably, and he shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “You let who walk away?”

“I don’t think he was planning on seeing me,” you said, letting go of his shirt and pleading with him to understand. “We weren’t supposed to meet.”

“You saw Suguru,” Gojo accused, and now it was his turn to take you by the shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle of your biceps, his eyes wild. “You saw him, and you didn’t tell me.”

Your lower lip trembled. “He killed my parents, Gojo.”

“That’s not true,” he said.

“It is,” you said. “It is, he told me it is, and I couldn’t even do anything when he said so.”

“Why?” Gojo hissed. “You only had to tell me! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t!” you said, and then you were crying again. “I couldn’t. Oh, they’re dead, and he killed them, he killed them, and they only asked about me when he did. Why am I the one who gets to live?”

His hands traveled from your arms to the nape of your neck, the heels of his palms pressing into your jaw as he tried to force you to look at him. But you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t, you hadn’t been able to before and you definitely couldn’t now.

“You know Suguru better than anyone. Don’t you think there’s something else at play?” Gojo said. He wasn’t asking for you. He was asking for himself. He wanted you to reassure him, tell him that it was alright, that his best friend wasn’t the monster you both knew he was. How was it fair? How could you be expected to reassure him?

You shoved him off of you. “No.”

“Then why’d you let him go?” Gojo said. “You must’ve thought that there was a reason, or else you would’ve told me. It’s the only explanation!”

“No, it’s not! The only explanation is that I’m shitty and weak and stupid, and I can’t help but rely on him. No matter what I do, I’ll rely on him! People like you don’t understand what it feels like. You can stand on your own, but I’m not like that!” you said, and then you were grabbing his hand — he always did that, you noticed, always turned his Infinity off for you even now that it was an automatic, constant process — unfurling his fingers and jabbing his index finger at your forehead. “Do you get it? You were right. I don’t have a spine. I don’t have one at all!”

“Pull yourself together, Y/N,” Gojo said. “He’s still out there. We just have to reach him before the others do, and then we can talk to him. If it’s the both of us, then he’ll listen. He’ll explain everything!”

“He already did,” you said. “You just don’t accept it, but that’s different than him not explaining at all.”

“So what, then? You’re just going to go back to the school and live your life as normal?” he said, scowling at you. “How could you even think of doing that? In what world does that make sense? You can’t go back and pretend like nothing happened!”

“It’s true. I can’t,” you said, because it was the fact you had been avoiding since the day you first set foot in the school, which you had always known in the back of your mind despite how you denied it. “I can’t go back at all. I can’t be a sorcerer.”

It was a rare thing to see Satoru Gojo speechless. If it were a lesser occasion, you might have laughed at the way his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together in such a foreign way.

“Why not?” he said.

“I’m afraid I’ll follow him,” you said. “No, I know I will. If I stay, then I will definitely follow him.”

“You won’t,” Gojo said. “Follow me instead. Follow me if you have to, but you can’t leave. Not you, too.”

Another rarity: Satoru Gojo was afraid. Not of your absence, but of the changes it would bring. With Haibara gone, Suguru vanished, and then you…what would even become of the school? When so many pieces were taken away from it, could it even be considered the same place?

“I can’t end up like that,” you said. “I can’t even risk it. I became a sorcerer because of him; I’ll leave because of him, too. Anyways, you hate when I follow you. You prefer people who can stand on their own two feet. I know that about you now.”

“If you run away, I won’t forgive you for a long time,” he warned me.

“Then don’t,” you said, stepping away, though still facing him. “What good is your forgiveness, anyways? It won’t bring my parents back. It won’t bring Suguru back. I don’t even want you to forgive me, Gojo. I want you to hate me until you die.”

It was the last time you saw him for so long that his memory blurred away at the edges. The way he said your name, the way his hair shone in the sun, the slope of his nose and curve of his neck…once, these were things you might’ve been able to list with a great degree of accuracy. Not anymore, though. Now, if you thought of him at all, it was only that final image of him, framed by the headlights of that still-running car. It was not your name he had called out as you walked away from him, but something bitterer, a promise said with such sincerity it was all but a Binding Vow.

“Ten years,” he had said. “That’s how long I’ll hate you for. Not my entire life. Not until I die. Just for the next ten years.”

Life as an ordinary person was easy. Life without Suguru was harder. But you learned. You learned, through the years, how to stand on your own two feet. You learned how to live with only one shadow instead of two. You learned how to let your eyes adjust to light, gradually instead of all at once, so that it was an easy progression and free of pain.

There were times when you thought you had seen one or the other of the two who you had run from. There, across the street, was it Suguru reading the newspaper? Or in the bakery you walked past on your way to work, was it Gojo who was admiring the displays? They always vanished before you could grow close enough to ascertain their identities, though, remaining ever out of your grasp, existing as nothing more than phantoms in your periphery, refusing to let you forget the past entirely.

The first time you called Gojo was a year after you left the school. You weren’t expecting him to pick up, and when the automated message prompted you to leave a voicemail, you almost hung up in resignation. Something stopped you, though, and despite feeling entirely ridiculous, you cleared your throat.

“Ah, it’s Y/N. But I guess you probably knew that, considering you didn’t pick up. Well, I don’t have anything much to say, but I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing alright. I’m okay. The anniversary of my parents’ deaths is coming up, so I was planning on visiting their graves. I got a new job. Somewhere that I never would’ve expected to work when I was younger. It’s nice. I like my coworkers. They’re nothing compared to you, of course, but they’re fine enough. Anyways. Um. I guess that’s it. I don’t think you’ll call me back, but I just wanted to let you know I’m doing okay.”

It was a routine. Every year, on that day, you’d call him and leave him a voice message. He never once answered — you doubted he listened to the voicemails at all, either — but it soothed you to leave them, to leave one last connection to the world that had taken up so much of your life, and for so long.

More often than not, that time felt like a dream. If it weren’t for the thorned mourner’s bouquets which left pricks in your fingers or the ten calls you had made to Satoru Gojo, you wouldn’t have believed any of it had happened at all. Sorcery, curses, shadows and killers, best friends who betrayed you and boys you ran from, these were all things better suited to storybooks than real life.

Your mother’s favorite flowers had been roses, and you always made sure to bring some with you when you visited your parents’ graves. Roses for her and white chrysanthemums for your father, who had never had a preference for any particular flowers but was so sentimental that he would weep at any blooms being set by his headstone.

The roses were the ones that made the pads of your fingertips bleed, leaving bright red drops the same shade as their petals on the tissues you brought with you. You’d set the bouquet down and wrap your fingers with the tissues, watching as blood seeped through the thin paper, and then, without fail, you’d cry.

“It’s been so long without you,” you said, when enough time had passed that you could not be considered anything but an adult despite feeling like little more than a child. “It’s been so long, and I still don’t know what to do. Mother, father, I am grown now, yet constantly I wish I could ask you for advice. What was that song you’d always hum when I was tired, father? How did you make that tea of yours, mother? When did you know you loved one another? And a million other, sillier things. If I could think of nothing more pressing, I’d ask you about the weather, the time, and your plans for the weekend. I’d bid you a good morning and a good night. I’d complain about the rain and my job. Just as long as it meant I could talk to you again.”

You could not help it. You wept, bloody tissues fluttering to the ground as you ground your fists into your eyes, trying to stem the flow of your tears. Your breath came in quick, short gasps, and you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes in an attempt to lull yourself into a state of calm. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the only thing you could do, but it was not enough.

Someone’s hand settled upon your shoulder, and it had been so long since you had felt even a semblance of physical affection that you did not immediately bat them away. Instead, your own hands fell to your sides, your head hanging as you watched the newcomer set a bouquet beside the one you had brought. Orchids and lilies. Lovely, pale things that contrasted sharply with the red of the roses next to them.

“You said in your voicemail that you’d be here at this time. I hope it’s okay that I came.”

It was Satoru Gojo. He no longer wore the sunglasses you remembered him to; instead, a black blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and forehead, causing his pale hair to stick up like he had been shocked. He did not quite smile when he noticed that you were looking at him, but something resembling that expression crossed his face.

“Gojo,” you said. “Why are you—?”

“It’s been long enough,” he said. “You’re a really hard person to hate, Y/N L/N. I did my best, but it was difficult. I hope that you know that.”

“So you’ve come to, what, tell me you forgive me?” you said. “Thanks, but I don’t need it. It’s as I said: your forgiveness means nothing.”

“Nah,” he said, and then he was grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’ve come to bring you back to sorcery with me.”

“What?” you said. “No. I quit.”

“You didn’t quit, you ran,” he reminded you.

“That’s the same thing,” you said. He grinned. It was the kind of grin that would’ve blinded you when you were younger, but you found that it was not so brilliant anymore. You found you liked it even more than you once had.

“Not in my books,” he said.

“Gojo, I’m not strong enough. I can lead a normal life without you and Suguru and the others, but if you throw me back into sorcery, I know I’ll cave,” you said. “I’ll turn back into that cowardly little girl I once was. I’ll seek out that shadow which I’ve spent so long learning to exist without.”

He sighed, and then he poked you in the forehead. “Not the case. See, you didn’t even waver this time! I think you finally did it, Y/N. You grew a spine.”

“Why do you want me to come back?” you said. “I’m not strong like you. I won’t give you anything you don’t already have.”

“It’s selfish,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you because it’s selfish, and you’ll laugh at me.”

“If you don’t tell me, then I won’t even consider it,” you said. Though his eyes were covered by the blindfold, you could sense him rolling them based solely on the way he pouted.

“I’ve spent the last ten years hating you for leaving us — for leaving me behind,” he said. “Everyone else was gone. I needed someone, but you left too, and then I really was alone. I want to drag you back into hell because I can’t face it by myself anymore.”

There were things left unsaid in that. Why you, for one? He could have anyone in the world, so why, after ten years, had he come to find you specifically? Why was it now that he could no longer bear the hell that was sorcery alone? But Gojo was not the sort who ever revealed his true self if he could help it, so you supposed those things would have to go unsaid for a little longer.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll come back, but I have a condition.”

“What is it?” he said.

“The next time I leave, or run away, or quit, don’t hate me for quite as long,” you said. “Don’t hate me at all. I know I told you that I want you to hate me until you die, but I don’t anymore.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” you said, in a direct mirror of your previous exchange.

“Okay,” he said. “Come on, then. Follow me.”

“Oh, that, too,” you said. “I won’t follow you. If that’s what you’re expecting, then you can forget about it. I cannot allow myself to follow anyone ever again. I cannot be that weak, or I’ll become someone I despise. Someone I don’t want to be, ever again.”

His expression morphed into one of shock, and then he did something so odd as to be beyond all rationality and logic. He beamed at you before patting you on the head. It wasn’t condescending; it was the kind of gesture that was like a promise, or a warning, depending on who you asked. Maybe in this case, it was both.

“It’s alright. Actually, it’s better if you don’t,” he said. “I like you more when you don’t follow anyone at all.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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koenigami · 11 months ago

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synopsis: that one time you accidentally lost ushijima in a mall on christmas. tags: fem!reader, fluff a/n: helloww sweet @ohtokki, your secret santa here! wishing you a wonderful time with your family and friends!<33 i really hope you like this little something i wrote for you and ushiwaka^^ it's actually my first time writing for him so i hope it's not too ooc ehe..

Like in a crammed can of sardines, people tried to navigate through the crowded streets and stores. Some of them looked for last minute gifts while others enjoyed the mesmerising decorations and lights ornamenting the city that seemed even brighter and more vivid once dusk fell. Watching some of the people rush down the halls of the mall you were currently strolling through, arms packed with packages and bags, wide and frantic eyes glancing from one shop window to another, you were more than relieved that Ushijima and you belonged to the second category of people.

“Wow, good thing we bought everything at - " Losing a nearly 6’4 tall boyfriend was hard. "Toshi?" But not impossible.

Especially in a crowded place like this one. With a deep sigh, you looked around, hopefully trying to spot Ushijima somewhere in your proximity though apparently it was not going to be that simple. A young man accidentally bumped into you. The pink gift bag he was carrying slipped out of his hand, though with a hectic hand gesture he managed to grasp it before it touched the floor. “I’m so sorry, Miss!” The teenager blushed and quickly bowed his head before scurrying off.

Meanwhile somewhere in the same mall, Ushijima paced from one shop entrance to another, curiously peeking over other customers’ heads, shoulders slumping every time he did not spot you. The “E” in the corner of his phone display mocked him when he pulled it out of the pocket of his jacket, and it seemed like no store nearby offered free wifi for him to at least send you a quick message.

Of course he could have anticipated that the shopping centre would be this packed today, though when you had asked him to accompany you to get your favourite dessert from the patisserie that was supposed to be somewhere around here, Ushijima had not been able to decline.

A soft tug on his pants pulled his attention away from his phone, and instead of a bright screen, he was gazing into big, teary eyes as a little girl shyly stared up at him, her height barely reaching up to his thigh. “Um, you’re ‘Shijima-san, right?” Had he not crouched down to her height, he would have probably not even been able to hear her question over the loud Christmas music that all of a sudden started playing in the background.

“Yes.” He nodded, somehow not finding it in him to correct her mispronunciation of his name, and instead patiently waited for her to continue. “My Nii-chan always says you’re the coolest so- uh, will you help me find him and mommy?” There was a light shake in her small, gloved hands as she played with one of her dark pigtails, the glittery red bows in them sparkling with every movement of her head.

A curt nod of his was enough to make the little girl smile as if he had just now shown her the entire world, and once he picked her up like she weighed nothing to place her on his shoulders, he indeed did show her an entirely different kind of world. Ushijima’s hands swallowed her much smaller ones, making sure that she was safely positioned and holding on tight. So this is what a giant’s view looks like, she thought, completely in awe about how she could truly see everything and everyone from up there.

“Where was the last time you have been with your mom and brother?” He inquired and looked around for… not exactly sure who. A panicked looking mother? A similarly frantic looking boy? While at the same time trying to catch a glimpse of you amidst the people moving past him.

“We wanted to buy cupcakes!” Her little legs dangled excitedly down the volleyball player’s borad shoulders while she explained that her mom was planning to buy mentioned cupcakes for her fourth birthday. “But then poof! Nii-chan and mommy were gone.” She gestured with her hands as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Poof, huh? Sounded pretty familiar to him when he thought about how you were one minute walking right beside him and the next-

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and Ushijima carefully fished it out with one hand while the other made sure the girl on his shoulders would not fall over.

“Hello? Toshi, where are you?” The sound of your voice eased the tension in his shoulders and he did not dare to budge from the spot that, thank god, provided him with some decent signal.

The little girl on his shoulders involuntarily eavesdropped on the giant’s conversation since, with whoever he was talking to, the small gentle smile on his face made it obvious that talking to them made him clearly happy.

“I’m on my way to the patisserie. There’s this girl I just met and she-”

“But we have just been there? And what girl?” It was not a rare occurrence for Ushijima to get held up by fans, yet right now you really just wanted to get home as soon as possible. The crowded space and your missing boyfriend were slowly but surely getting to you and tiring you out so much that you could not help but sound a little snappy over the phone. Whatever fangirl he was dealing right now, he better-

“Love, she’s four.”

"Huh?" Oh.

You loosened the woollen scarf around your neck once you heard your boyfriend’s breathy chuckle on the other end of the line, a light heat creeping up your neck out of sheer embarrassment. Manoeuvring your way through the slowly dissipating crowd, you listened attentively to Ushijima as he explained the little girl’s predicament as well as his current location to you. Since it seemed that you were not too far away from them, you agreed on meeting them at a flower shop in front of which they were currently standing.

“Was that your girlfriend?” The little girl asked curiously once Ushijima hung up, both his hands now securely resting back on her thighs. “Did she also get lost?”

“You could say it like that. But she’ll get here soon and then we will go to look for your family together, alright?”

“Yes! Thank you, Shijima-san!” She exclaimed gratefully, her arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug that made his heart swell. Remembering that she was now even taller than the giant himself, she figured that she could help him too find someone dear to him. “So, what does she look like?”

“Hm? Well, she’s wearing a long coat, a thick white scarf, she has long brown-”

“Is she pretty?”

Ushijima was a little taken aback by her question, since she made it sound as if an answer to it would be more helpful to pinpoint you than a detailed description of your appearance. Yet with a deep sigh and significant warmth in his eyes, he answered truthfully. “Yes, very so.”

And somehow, as if satisfied with his answer, the little girl quietly looked ahead of herself and rested her chin on top of his head. With each passing minute, the mall got emptier, customers wrapped up their purchases before leaving, cash registers in certain shops looked less busy, and even an employee who was wearing a santa costume looked like he had finished his shift as he walked past Ushijima, waving kindly at the girl who happily reciprocated the gesture.

“There!” The girl suddenly perked up after noticing a young woman hurry towards them with a fond smile on her face.

And how could you not smile when the sight of your lover with such a sweet looking young girl perched on top of his shoulders was so endearing to you. You approached them finally and reached up to greet the girl with a light squeeze to her calf.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable over there. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Chiyo!” She answered with a bright toothy grin before she fervently started to tell you about how she had gotten lost and found "Shijima-san".

Eventually, you made yourself on the way to the patisserie where you hoped to find Chiyo’s mother and brother, since it was the only place where you could get fresh pastries at this time of the day. By the way she clung to Ushijima, you could tell that she had warmed up to him pretty fast, and the same could be said about him. He looked so effortlessly handsome as he carried the child in a way that you would think he had never done anything else in his life. In a way that made you wonder what it would be like to have your own little gremlin sit on top of him and call him a “giant”.

Warmth suddenly engulfed your left hand, and his rare physical display of affection astonished you a slightest bit. But as he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking the back of it back and forth, he simply stated matter-of-factly.

“Don’t want to lose you again.”

Right, Mr. Shijima, you thought knowingly. Admitting that your short lived disappearance had made him feel uncomfortable and that going through the same dilemma would probably make him age a few months more- that was definitely not something he was going to admit today.

However, when he had to put Chiyo back down and watch her run over to her Nii-chan, who coincidentally was the same young man who had earlier bumped into you, Ushijima had to admit that he was a little dejected about the fact that his adventure with the little girl was over so soon.

#fun fact #the dude dressed up as santa is hanamaki bc that's the only job he could get #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushijima #hq ushijima

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ballad-of-birdy-lamb · 1 year ago

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can i send a tbosas request? maybe sejanus plinth x female reader during his time as a peacekeeper, they've been talking and he confides in her about the things that trouble him & she comforts him, you can put a romantic spin on it if you want. thank you! 💖

I adore Sejanus and I finally get to write for him! Again, sorry if he's OOC, I haven't read the book in a while.

Peacekeeper! Sejanus Plinth x Fem! Reader (romantic, comfort fic)

I don't fully know Tam Amber’s gender nor do I remember it, so they go by they/them throughout the fic. Nearly all descriptions of the characters are based on the actors and what the characters are gonna look like in the film.

The stage lights flashed on and you were quick to turn away. You held onto Tam Amber’s arm as they laughed at the sudden occurrence. A small part of you felt pity for Lucy Gray, hell, all of the Covey members because of those damn lights. They nearly blinded you.

“I forget you're never on stage,” Tam Amber laughed and patted your back. “You’ll get used to it.”

You chuckle out of embarrassment, not wanting to take it too seriously. Lucy Gray might have been blinded by stage lights at some point in her life. As you blinked, hoping for your sight to go back to normal you looked around the hob. Small dark spots flew around, the after-effects of the lights.

“I can't believe you can deal with that.” You look back at Barb Azure as she gets onto the stage, smiling, almost holding in a laugh. She must have seen you get blinded by the lights.

You sit on the edge of the stage, rubbing your eyes, hoping the dark spots leave your vision. You curse to yourself but giggle from your idiocy. When you look up to see if the spots are gone, you’re met with Coriolanus’ face.

You jump a bit from surprise and place a hand on your chest, calming yourself. “I'm sorry, didn't see you there,” you smile.

“It's alright, shouldn't have snuck up on you,” Coriolanus answered. He turns to Sejanus, grabs something from him, and looks at you again. Your eyes widen with joy at the sight of the presents.

“Sejanus’ mother made these, we thought the Covey would like them more than the other peacekeepers,” Coriolanus remarked. In his hand was a clear plastic back tightly closed around mounds of golden caramel popcorn.

Your eyes were wide at the sight of the caramel popcorn balls in Coriolanus’ hands. You reached out to take the bag from him but Maude Ivory was quick to swipe them away. She seemed to skip as she took them backstage, declaring the present to the rest of the Covey.

“It's very sweet that you were able to get them. They're gonna be spoiled if you keep getting them these treats,” you grin, taking the other bag from Sejanus who stood next to Coriolanus.

You look at Sejanus as he peeks at the backstage area. His dark eyes were sunken in with dark circles under his eyes. Nearly all the peacekeepers had sunken eyes with bags under their eyes. You don't ask about it with Coriolanus, or anyone really, around. It might embarrass him. Turning your attention to Coriolanus, he gives a small smile as he looks in the same direction as Sejanus.

“If you're looking for Lucy Gray, she's backstage. She's just fixing up her guitar strings,” you remark. Coriolanus nods and gives you a quick smile before going to find a seat. You're left with Sejanus.

You look at him as he looks back at Coriolanus and then at the floor. He looks at anything else except you. It was odd, he's never acted like that but you wave it off.

“It's nice seeing you, I didn't know if you were gonna come see the show this week.” You turn your attention to Sejanus, who perked up at your words.

“Yeah, yeah, no I would have come either way. I've got nothing better to do,” he almost rushes the words out. Sejanus looks back at where Coriolanus had gone then at you again.

“It's good to see you either way. Don't bring too many of those treats though, Maude Ivory’s gonna be bouncing off the walls,” you grin and stand from the edge of the stage.

“I'll send a note home to Ma about it,” Sejanus smiles and goes to sit with Coriolanus. You watch him leave, your eyes trailing to his hands, which he clenched and unclenched multiple times. Again, you brushed it off.

Making your way backstage you find the Covey getting their instruments ready. Maude Ivory sat on a black sofa with Tam Amber, eating the popcorn happily. Barb Azure was fixing her shiny black hair with her fingers. You finally found the person you were looking for sitting on a nearby stool.

“Lucy Gray, your boyfriend’s looking for you,” you exclaim. She looks up from her guitar and nods. Lucy Gray sat on a wooden stool, wearing a black floral dress with the instrument in her lap.

“I'm guessing it's Coriolanus.” Lucy Gray laughs and gets the guitar strap over her shoulder.

“Who else?” You smile and grab the partially eaten bag of popcorn balls from Maude Ivory. She whined and reached for the bag, her fingers sticky from the caramel. “You ate too much sugar, it's gonna keep you up all night.”

Maude Ivory nodded but wasn't happy about the treats being taken away. “I was gonna ask where she got those.” Lucy Gray said as she got up from the stool.

“Sejanus and Coriolanus brought ‘em.” You answered before turning your attention to Maude Ivory. “You practiced that song of yours, right? That valley song?”

Maude Ivory nodded excitedly, she looked as if she had forgotten about the caramel popcorn within seconds. “No need to practice! Lucy Gray sang the song and I got it down quick!” She exclaimed happily, kicking her feet.

Lucy Gray nodded and stood from the stool, going to fix Maude Ivory’s hair. “But I still had you practice,” she smiled, running her tan fingers through the young girl’s blonde hair.

Maude Ivory pulled away once she saw the time on her watch. She calls to the other Covey members and they start gathering their instruments and rush onto the stage.

As the Covey gets on stage, you rush to find a spot amongst the people. Looking around, you finally spot Coriolanus and Sejanus. Wasn't too difficult to differentiate them, not many others had buzzcuts by choice. You smile as you step next to Coriolanus.

You wave to Maude Ivory as she speaks to the crowd of colorfully dressed men and women. “Good evening everyone, we're very glad everyone could make it to the show! I’ll be starting this show-off and then after my songs, we’ll hand around a basket for donations. Then Lucy Gray will sing for you to finish the show!”

Many people in the audience turned their heads to the stage and watched as Maude Ivory started her song. Soon, people's awkward shuffling grew to cheerful dancing. Several danced with each other quickly, others slowly. The skirts of women's dresses flew around as they danced, their men following after them.

You stood next to Coriolanus and Sejanus, watching happily as she sang. You slowly swayed to Maude Ivory’s song, her singing loud and high-pitched. Her voice carried throughout the hob, a pleasant jingle for everyone inside, and possibly outside if they listened closely.

Maude Ivory started with her cheerful Valley song then led to a darker song about a miner’s daughter drowning. It was a bit of an odd change of tone but you couldn't deny it wasn't something you minded.

A bit into the second song, Sejanus whispered something to Coriolanus who nodded and turned his attention back to Maude Ivory. You couldn't help but glimpse over Coriolanus’ shoulder and watch Sejanus leave.

“Where’s he going? Is he going home already?” You whisper to Coriolanus. He shook his head in response. The answer made you more confused.

“No, he said he needed some air. He said it was stuffy in here,” he replied and turned back to the younger singer on stage.

You tried to do the same, smiling as you watched Maude Ivory pass around a basket for donations and then Lucy Gray taking the stage. She sang her ballad in a joyous tone, twirling around when she didn't need to sing a line. But no matter how much you paid attention to Lucy Gray and the twirling men and women around you, you couldn't stop thinking about Sejanus. He hadn't returned yet.

You tapped Coriolanus on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go find Sejanus,” you mutter. He nods and looks back at Lucy Gray, who is strumming her guitar with enjoyment.

You trudge your way through the crowd and to the door. You push yourself outside, a gust of cold wind washing over you. Sejanus was right on one thing, it was stuffy as fuck in there. You take a step down the front porch area of the Hob, looking around for Sejanus.

Your eyes widened happily at the sight of him sitting on the edge of the porch but hesitated to speak once you saw his tense posture.

“Sejanus, I came out to see you. You were out here for a while,” you call and take a step closer. Sejanus almost jumps at the sound of your voice but calms when he looks back at you. His deep-colored eyes were saddened but he tried hiding it to the best of his abilities, which wasn't that much.

“Yeah, that's fine. Um, it was kinda stuffy in there…,” he mumbled and looked back at the ground. You glance back into the Hob, looking at Lucy Gray then back at the man sitting in front of you.

“Can I sit with you?” You ask slowly, wondering if he wants your company to begin with. You take in a sigh of relief when he nods. You go to the edge of the porch and sit down next to him, a bit farther apart than you expected but you don't want him uncomfortable.

“So… how's your night going?” You ask awkwardly, looking down at your hands in your lap. Sejanus shrugs.

“Good…,” he mumbles again, not willing to look at you. “How was yours?”

“Good,” you nod. After those already awkward words, you're left in an even more awkward silence. Kicking your feet against the pale brown dirt below you, you take in a breath. “I kinda noticed you were a bit stiff today. Training worse than on other days?”

Sejanus shakes his head. “No, just like every day,” he replies. His head rests in his hands as he speaks, his face contorted with uncomfortable emotions and thought.

You grow tired of the silence and finally ask the question you've been meaning to. “Sejanus, is something wrong? You've been acting all funny tonight and I wanna know if something's bothering you.”

Sejanus seems to stiffen more if that was even possible. You watch him closely yet he chooses not to look at you.

“(Y/n), do you like me?” Sejanus watched the dancing shadows along the dirt ground, not wishing to look at you. “Is there anything that stands out about me? Like… positive things?”

You stared at him as you thought. Of course, you liked him. He was an absolute sweetheart, who wouldn't love him? Sejanus went out of his way to help others whenever he could. He didn't need to give the Covey that popcorn but he chose to. And he helped Maude Ivory work in the garden on weekends.

You nod. “I do like you. You're very kind and you like to help people,” you said matter-of-factly. “Is there any reason you ask that specifically?”

Sejanus doesn't answer or look at you. The muffled laughter and singing filled the silence, your shadows elongated by the light seeping through the hob’s windows. Sejanus rolled his shoe over a rock, trying to ignore the silence that was between you both.

“Sejanus, if something is bothering you then you can tell me,” you smiled as your hand rested on his shoulder. He shook his head, not meeting your gaze.

“No, no it's just…,” Sejanus paused as he thought of the correct words to use. His pointer finger scratched at his nails anxiously. “(Y/n), do you think I'm a good person?”

The question caught you off guard. Sejanus, of all people, was asking if he was a good person. When you thought of the word ‘good’, Sejanus was one of the first people that came to mind.

You give him a confused look and nod. “Of course, I think you're a good person. What makes you think otherwise?” Your words were soft compared to the calamity taking place in the hob. Lucy Gray’s singing rang through the air but you paid no attention to it. All of your attention was on Sejanus.

He wiped his face with his hands and sighed. “I just… I think I'm too good at this Peacekeeper stuff,” Sejanus remarked, the way he spoke brought a negative air to the words.

“Isn't that a good thing? You don't want to be left behind in whatever training you have to do,” you said as you laid your chin on his shoulder, gazing at him as he spoke. Sejanus stiffened but didn't try to push you away. He shifted closer to you, almost wrapping around you to pull you closer but didn't at the last minute.

“Yes but… I don't want to be a peacekeeper. I'm not violent and I don't want to be. If anything, I don't like how good I am at the job. If I had been given a different job entirely, one without the violent parts, I would be fine with it!” Sejanus replied as he held his face in his hands. “I just don't feel like a good person.”

Being a Peacekeeper was always known to be backbreaking, not only in training but in the lives the Peacekeepers would be forced to live. It was purgatory for them. It must have been so difficult for Sejanus to have to deal with this. He wasn't a violent person, anyone who was anyone knew that.

“I'm too good with a gun,” Sejanus huffed as he stared at the ground. “I know this sounds stupid but when I was younger, my father made me practice shooting a gun a lot. Now I'm too good at it and I feel awful.”

“But you're not an awful person, I know that for a fact,” you said softly as you took in his expression. Sejanus’ brows were knitted tightly together and from a specific angle, made him look angry. Maybe he was, maybe he was angry at the idea of being such a bad person.

“You’re a very good person, Sejanus. You are the sweetest man I've ever met. You are nice to others even if you don't know them and you help them. You barely knew me a couple of months ago and you helped me a lot. You've treated the Covey with so much kindness too. Don't let your job get to you,” you explain, hoping your words would help him just a bit.

Sejanus stared at you, wondering if you were being truthful. Part of him wanted to not believe you, wanting some form of punishment for what he's forced to do; another part wanted to believe you, wanting to take in your words and know they were candid.

You gazed at him silently, expecting him to say something but he just embraced you. His arms wrapped around your torso in a tight grasp, his face hidden in your shoulder.

Your body was stiff in his arms, not knowing what to do at the unexpected touch. Sejanus pulled you as close as he could, wanting to find comfort in your grasp. Finally giving in, you immerse in his warmth and drape your arms on his shoulders.

“I know I won't understand what you go through, Sejanus. I just want you to know, that I'm here for you, and I care about you,” you mutter, his arms loosen as he leans into you.

Sejanus stayed so close, it was as if your touch was comfort, hell, salvation for him. His head against your shoulder, his arms around your waist, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes, he found a form of reassurance in your arms.

You had held children in your arms -particularly Maude Ivory- when they cried but you never felt this much desperation for your touch in a long while. Sejanus soaked in your warmth and presence, his muscles loosened evidently, he was almost putty in your grasp.

Slowly lifting your head from Sejanus’ shoulder, you peek at his face. He was staring at you. It almost caught you off guard and made you uncomfortable until you saw how he gazed up at you.

Sejanus gazed up at you with something you could only make out as devotion. It must have been the validity of your words that made him stare at you like that.

He looked away when you stared back, blush quickly covering his face as he sat up again. Clearing his throat, his eyes fell to the ground. “Sorry,” Sejanus muttered.

You don't answer. Looking down at your hands, you contemplate what he could have meant when asking you specifically about him. Was he trying to see if you liked him like how he possibly likes you?

“Have you always looked at me like that?” You scan his face closely, hoping for a hint of an answer within his expression.

Sejanus hesitated but nodded nonetheless. “Not always but it's been going on for a while,” he pursed his lips and finally looked at you. “(Y/n), I really do like you. I think you're very beautiful and talented and funny and…”

He trailed once he looked at you again. His face was red from his confession and embarrassment from being caught staring.

“And I'm madly in love with you.” Sejanus finished hastily and diverted his eyes. He wiped his face with his hands while waiting for you to say something.

You never took Sejanus’ kindness as a form of love, maybe that was just him? He loved you and was just kind. You never got that he felt any romantic feelings for you.

His eyes watch your face closely, wanting to see if you felt how he did. “Can I kiss you?” Sejanus muttered as his cheeks gained a red tint. Your eyes widen and you nod. Maybe it was the heat of the moment but something made you want to kiss him too.

Sejanus took your face into his hands, brushing his thumb on your cheek. Your hands sat in your lap, slightly balling up your clothes, fidgeting because the moment to come. He took in a breath, trying to gain courage before leaning in and kissing you.

Your body seemed to melt with his touch, his hands warm as his fingertips glided over your hands. His free hand held your lower back, pulling you closer to him. If you could have pulled him closer, you would have. Sejanus kissed you like he had never kissed anyone before. It almost seemed to be a mimic of the kisses actors would give each other on TV. Those weren't real, nothing was behind those embraces. But the same couldn't be said for the obvious endearment Sejanus felt for you.

Sejanus finally pulled away from you, his face a deep red as he panted. He more likely didn't breathe out through the entire kiss. While Sejanus tried catching his breath, he couldn't stop admiring you. His eyes were fixed on you like you were the brightest and prettiest star in the sky. His hand fell from your body as he sat awkwardly next to you, he was still a blushing mess. “Thank you,” Sejanus mutters through his hand.

You couldn't help but laugh at his manners. “You’re welcome, Sejanus.” Kissing his cheek, you took his hand into yours. His hand squeezed yours. His face slowly fell from his smile.

Sejanus turned to you again and spoke. “I need to tell you something I've been planning with Billy Taupe.”

____

So sorry I haven't been posting, school has been a lot and I've had writer's block for a while 😭

Also, this is absolute ass compared to my Lucy Gray fic. So sorry

And don't mind the casual buzz-cut slander in here. I just don't like them

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qin-qin16 · 2 months ago

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cw.: Bad guys x Qin (me), can be viewed as the reader too, comedy, crack fic (?), ooc (because they would kill me on the spot), I swear like, a lot, this is just for fun and giggles!

note: It's really weird to write in first person and I think I revealed a bit of myself here? Anyway, I had fun writing this, thanks for the prompt @unamzi maybe I'll do a part two with the other guys? Who knows...

What the hell is happening? What the hell is happening? What the hell is happening?

Before me stretched a long, dark corridor, dimly lit by a few lamps scattered along the way —some were on, most were off. It looked like something straight out of an '80s movie set in a medieval mansion.

If there's a god, please let this be just a space trip and not a time trip. I can’t be burned at the stake in these clothes! As much as I thought that, it felt like I had fallen here rather than just being teleported. Soon, a thought crossed my mind.

“No way I am in the fucking Backrooms…” It wasn’t like me to voice such a thought, but if this is a lucid dream, I might as well take the chance to say whatever I want.

Mentally, I crossed my fingers. Physically, I started walking toward one of the corridor’s exits, searching for any clue about my location or someone who could explain to me where I am.

At least my glasses hadn’t fallen off during the fall. If the darkness wasn’t challenging enough, I’d still need to feel my way along the walls to avoid getting lost — though given my terrible sense of direction, that might not help much.

“I knew I shouldn’t have watched so many horror movies. Look at this place — I’m clearly going to get killed here.” I whispered, realizing it wasn’t wise to speak too loudly.

Speaking of awareness, I glanced down at my clothes: an old shirt, faded sweatpants, and a pair of thick socks that masked the floor’s temperature. Incredible, I managed to wear the worst possible outfit for a place like this. Just incredible.

Creaaaaak.

In the distance, a door slowly creaked open, and I couldn’t suppress a hiss at the dragging, unsettling sound of it opening by itself. By. Itself.

What does this place take me for? An idiot? There’s no way I’m going near that door — no way! Nuh-uh!

I spun around and tried to walk in the other direction. Or, at least, I would have if I hadn’t bumped into something mid-turn. I managed to catch my balance and avoid falling backward, but whatever was in front of me didn’t have the same lucky.

“Ouch, what...?” Oh my God, I ran into a person!

“I’m so sorry—” My words falter when I finally take in what’s in front of me, or rather, who.

It’s a cartoonish skeleton dressed in white-black clothes, with a cross-sash across its chest. I blink a few times, trying to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

“What the hell is this?” I mutter, nervously biting my lip as I slowly back away from the strangely familiar skeleton.

“Who—” The little lights inside those black eye sockets finally seem to notice me, scanning me up and down.

Before I can take another step back, Cross quickly regains his composure, standing up and summoning one of his swords, pointing it directly at me. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

I'd almost rather be burned at the stake right now actually.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You don’t need to point that at me!” I raise my hands in surrender, my eyes locked on the sword as it menacingly moves closer to my neck.

“You’d better start answering me then: who are you?” His voice is oddly higher-pitched than I expected, but it’s no less intimidating — especially since he practically growled at me! Growled!

I’m beginning to feel more anger than fear.

“Well, my name is…” Don’t say your real name, don’t say your real name. “Qin.” But don’t use your ridiculous Tumblr name either! Dumb bitch!

Cross huffs at my answer but keeps his sword aimed at me. “Qin? What a strange name.”

It’s a lot better than “Cross,” if you ask me. What a ridiculous name.

“I wasn’t aware we had visitors. How rude of Cross to treat guests like this.” No fucking way, there’s another one? “So, Qin, what brings you here, huh?”

For a brief moment, I diverted my gaze from the sword, glancing out of the corner of my eye at the other figure who joined the conversation. Dark blue coat, white shorts, and a red target floating in front of his chest. Yep, I’m officially screwed.

"You won’t believe me if I tell you the truth," I say with an awkward laugh, turning my attention back to Cross, who hasn’t stopped glaring at me.

Has he always looked this furious? Jeez, it seems like he might start foaming at the mouth.

“Hm? Really?” Killer chuckles, strolling over to Cross and gently lowering the sword with his fingertips. “There’s no need for that. Just look at her. Does she look like she’s about to attack you?”

With the immediate threat lessening, I finally noticed something that had been bothering me since Cross stood up: the clear height difference between us. Both of them are significantly shorter than I expected, reaching about mid-chest on me (maybe this was their canonic height?).

I can’t help but snort, finding the scene at least a bit comical now: two skeletons half my size who could easily slice me into pieces. Amazing.

Why couldn’t I have ended up in the Doodle Sphere? Why did I have to be in this hellish chaos?

“What? Are you going to call her a harmless kitten?” I snap out of my daydream when Cross finally sheaths his sword, crossing his arms and talking to Killer, completely ignoring me.

“Nah…” Killer turns to me, and — oh my God, he’s terrifying.

He’s definitely weirder in person than any fanart or fanfic I’ve ever seen of him. Those empty eye sockets are unsettling to look at, and the black tears streaming from them don’t help. The static smile gives him an uncanny valley vibe - in the most deep sense of the term.

“She looks more like a deer — just look at her shaking with us here.” He laughs, clearly enjoying my reactions.

Only then do I notice that my hands and knees are trembling like branches in a strong wind.

“I don’t even feel anything, and even I can sense the fear coming from her.” Killer continues, approaching me nonchalantly. He casually places a hand on my back, as if he's sure I won't lash out at his approach. “Nightmare will like this one; it's quite a meal for him.”

What have I gotten myself into?

#selfshipping #i guess?#to be cringe is to be free #Cross sans #Killer sans #utmv #utmv au #bag guys #half of them #this is really a selfshipping?#they just threatened me #sans x you #idk #qinqin stuff 💖

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2-guns-b1tch · 10 months ago

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Midnight Visitor

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: BTAA! Scarecrow x F!Reader

I really wanted to write something about the Scarecrow from the Audio Adventures. I love his voice and his mannerisms so much. Sorry if this a little OOC, i think i wasn't able to portray him exactly right, but I hope you like this and let me now if I forgot to mention a trigger warning.

Ao3

+18 Minors DNI!!! Fear Play, Mildly Dubious Consent, Breathplay if you squint, Vaginal Sex.

The waiting room is practically empty when you come in. The only person in there is Miss Gold and she seems to be getting ready to leave for her lunch break.

"Hello, Miss Gold," your voice breaks the silence, making her jump on her chair.

Miss Gold snaps her head in your direction, laughing softly with a hand on her chest when she realizes is actually you.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. I was sou caught that you startled me."

Miss Gold has been Jonathan's secretary for almost two years. She was a little shorter than you, wearing high heels to make up for the missing inches. Her round, rosy cheeks reminded you of a peach, matching her plumper silhouette. Her clothes were often pastel and soft, which made her stand out in the dull environment of the clinic.

Although Miss Gold was sweet and helpful, she always had this nervous expression on her face, looking like she was on the verge of an anxiety attack constantly. You needed to have a conversation with Jonathan to find out what kind of pressure he was putting on the poor secretary.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sneak in like this," you say, approaching her table. "I came to bring Jonathan's lunch. Is he here?"

Miss Gold nods, "Yes, he is, dear. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"

"You don't have to, thank you. Go enjoy your lunch, Miss Gold. I will take care of the doctor now.”

You say goodbye before she leaves and you knock on Jonathan's door, his voice on the other end signaling you to come in.

"What's so important, Miss-" Jonathan lifts his head towards you, the annoyed expression on his face being washed away when he lays his eyes on you, a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

You can't help but shiver as you walk over to his desk. The old, dark furniture gave the room a gloomy air, the dim lights creating strange shadows. But what made you feel more uneasy were the old Argus Studios posters hanging on the walls. Basil Karlo's wicked gaze followed you wherever you went.

You try to shake off that feeling when Jonathan gets up and meets you halfway.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your honorable presence?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You pull him by his orange tie – the same one you had gifted him last Christmas – until he was at your level and you could kiss him on the cheek.

"You forgot that at home, so I thought I'd stop by to deliver it to you," you lift the lunchbox, handing it to him.

He slaps a hand on his forehead, giving a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. "What would I do without my dear wife?"

"You would probably end up forgetting your head somewhere," you pat him at the shoulder before sitting down on the therapy couch.

Jonathan just nods, sitting next to him. He opens the package, admiring for a few seconds what you had packed before he started eating.

You watch him finish the salad in just a few bites and then stuff his mouth full of spaghetti. He licks his lips, letting out a few moans of delight between bites.

"Good to know you still like my food," you comment out Loud.

"How could I not? That was one of the main reasons I married you."

You try to look offended by giving him a weak slap on the arm, but you can't hide your smile when he starts laughing.

"You're terrible!"

"You can't go back now. Until death do us part, remember?" he shrugs as if there's nothing you can do. “Besides, we both know you’re crazy about me."

You roll your eyes at him, but your fingers troke your wedding ring, a warm sensation spreading across your chest.

"You look hungry. What would you have eaten if I hadn’t brought your lunch?"

He shrugs as he finishes chewing. "I probably would have asked Miss Gold to buy me something. Don't worry."

But it was impossible not to worry. In these last months, Jonathan left early in the morning and returned only late at night. He said he was too busy at the office and that you shouldn't wait for him awake. Even then you always woke up when he arrived home and helped him take off his clothes, only being able to talk for a few minutes until he fell asleep exhausted.

Of course you were grateful for the comfortable life his jobs provided, and you were very proud of his career as a doctor and professor, but you didn't want him to work until he killed himself.

You run your fingers through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. He definitely needed a cut. On top of that, he looked even thinner and the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger. But even after all these years together, he was still the man of your dreams. A little mean and weird, but you didn't want it any other way.

Jonathan stares at you, his gaze as warm and loving as ever. But at the same time it seemed so far away, as if he wasn't really there.

"Today they're going to reprise some classic horror movies. What do you think? You, me, a bucket of popcorn?" you propose.

"I'm sorry, dear. Not today. I have some tests that I need to go through and-" Jonathan begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.

"It's okay, you have work to do. I get it.”

You bite your tongue, hating how angry you sound. You didn't want to take your frustrations out on him, but you missed Jonathan so much. You missed dancing with him as he hummed some silly music he made up. To watch the classic horror movies he loved so much. To simply be able to talk to him without Jonathan falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. And you missed the sex, too.

Jonathan was still affectionate, of course, but the caresses and touches boiled down to a quick kiss before he left or a hug when he arrived. Nothing more than that. Now, Jonathan left a void around the house, like a ghost walking in the halls.

He places the lunch box on the coffe table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're upset, I understand.”

You move your gaze to your lap. "I'm not upset. I'm just... tired. I’ve barely seen you these last few days."

He puts his hand over yours, his skin feeling cold against your own.

"I know these past months have been difficult. But I'll make it up to you," he strokes your cheek, tilting your chin to look into your eyes. "I promise."

You really want to believe him, but a part of you suspects that these are empty promises. This behavior will keep repeating itself and you will keep forgiving him, until eventually you drift further apart.

A paranoid little voice in the back of your mind suggests a hypothesis for Jonathan's absence and you hate yourself for thinking about something like that. What if he was cheating on you? What if all this distance over the past few months was actually someone between you.

Jonathan wasn't that kind of man, but the voice kept repeating. What if? What if he had grown tired of you? What if that person was more beautiful? Or more interesting? What if they made him happier than you?

The idea makes your stomach turn and you swallow dry. You pull your hand from his grip, getting up from the couch.

"I should go," you say as you put the lunchboxes back in the bag. "After all, you have a lot of work to do."

You feel numb as Jonathan follow you to the door, barely feeling the goodbye kiss he places on your forehead.

You wish you had walked out of the office hoping that things would get better or at least satisfied that this is just a temporary crisis that all couples have to face at some point.

Instead, doubt and a feeling of distress accompany you all the way home.

——

You stir awake, being pulled slowly from your dreams. Everything seems hazy and fuzzy as you run you fingers over Jonathan’s bedside, but you only find his side cold and empty. You sigh in frustration, letting your head sink against the pillow again. You should be used to it by now.

The alarm on your bedside table signals that it's past midnight, the numbers on the digital clock flashing through the darkness of the room. You snuggle under the covers again, almost forgetting what woke you up in the first place. Sleep is so tempting and you start to drift off.

But an insistent sound keeps you awake. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes getting used to the darkness as you begin to make out what exactly the noise was.

Steps. Someone was walking around the apartment.

You pull the sheets, the sole of your foot meeting the cold floor. You try not to assume the worst as you get out of bed. Maybe it was just Jonathan coming home from work.

You step into the hallway, turning on the switch, but the light bulb flickers a few time before the shadows envelop you once more. You sigh, cursing yourself silently. The hallway light wasn’t working properly and you were supposed to change it weeks ago.

You walk slowly with your arms extended in front of your body so you don’t bump into anything until you can reach the bathroom door. You turn the lights on and a momentary feeling of safety rushes over you. Everything looks okay in the bathroom, so you decide to let the lights on and the door open to let a little bit o the light illuminate the hallway.

After that you go to check the living room and the kitchen. Your thin nightgown isn't enough to keep you warm on that cold night and you hug yourself, a shiver running through your skin.

You finally go to the front door to test the handle. To your relief, is locked and the bolt was in place. Even though you lived in a safe neighborhood you still had your fears, after all, Gotham is Gotham. You can never be too sure.

Maybe it was just a dream? You wonder for a second until you notice the light in Jonathan's office leaking through the small crack in the door. As you get closer, the sound of mumbling and papers being flipped through becomes more noticeable. Jonathan was really incorrigible. After hours at his office, he brought even more work home.

"Jon, you should go to bed," you stop in front of the door, rubbing your eyes until they get used to the brightness of the room.

You had the clear image of Jonathan in your head. He'd be sitting behind his desk with a tired expression on his face, pen hanging loose in his hand while he is finishing giving grades fos his students’ tests. You would whisper in a sweet tone and stroke his hair until he agreed to follow you back to bed.

Instead, your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the stranger leaning over Jonathan's desk, papers scattered everywhere. He was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit. His face was covered by a patched mask, a rope around his neck.

You've heard and read countless stories about him, but you never expected that one day you'd come face to face with the Scarecrow.

Sleep is a distant thing now. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your whole body tense, your feet stuck on the ground. Your instincts scream at you to run, fight, do anything, but the idea of moving seems impossible. All you can do is watch transfixed as Scarecrow stares at you from across the room, a heavy, suffocating silence forming between the two of you.

For some reason he seems as surprised as you do, as if he didn't expect someone to show up.

He walks around the table with slow steps, his hands raised in the air. "Hush. I didn't come here to hurt you," he sounds calm and... strangely familiar. But the grim smile sewn into his mask doesn't help to reassure you.

This is like a nightmare. The kind where you stay in the same place while running, unable to distance yourself from the monster that chases you, no matter how hard you try. But now, the monster wouldn't disappear when you opened your eyes. No matter how much you blink, he's still there.

He's only a few inches away, his hand almost touching your arm, when your feet finally work again and you run out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

You can hear the Scarecrow right behind you through the rapid beating of your heart, his footsteps reverberating against the hardwood floor, but you don't dare look back.

Your first extinct is to open one of the drawers to grab the biggest knife you can find. You turn just in time to see the Scarecrow standing in the kitchen doorway, your trembling hands gripping the handle of the knife as you point the blade at him. The shadows cast strange shapes on his face, making the smile on his mask seem even bigger. For a moment he looks like one of the monsters from Jonathan's movies.

"Don't come closer!" you scream.

He ignores your order, taking one step toward you and then another. Approaching in the same careful manner that a predator approaches its prey.

You swallow, your wobbly legs seeming to be unable to bear your own weight. "If you come any closer I-I... I'm going to hurt you."

He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he studies you. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves ma’am. You don't want to make any rash decisions."

"Stay away from me! My husband is going to arrive any moment and he's going to-"

The Scarecrow throws his head back in a cruel laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, as if you've said something stupid.

"Look at you, trying to rationalize with fear. So brave," he shakes his head, approaching again.

With every step he takes, you take another step back in a futile attempt to increase the distance between you. You keep retreating until you're backed against the kitchen counter and that's when it lunges at you. He slaps your hand, throwing your knife across the room.

You try to scream, but he presses his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries for help. You flinch at the sensation of the cold leather of his gloves on your skin, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your arm.

You're like a deer at headlights, too scared to fight for your survival. He was so close now, you could see his eyes through the holes in the mask, deep brown circles staring back at you. His pupils were dilated, he was enjoying it.

To your horror, he presses his face against your neck. He inhales deeply against your skin, letting out a satisfied hum. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you shiver against his grip.

"You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid, and it’s delicious,” he whispers close to your ear, his voice becoming dark and low as he takes a sharp inhale. "Mmm. You fear is so sweet, I can almost taste it on my tongue. Oh, darling. You're terrified," he laughs hoarsely.

You close your eyes so tightly that you can see little white spots. The whole world seems to spin and you feel dizzy. Would he drug you with the fear gas that all the news have been talking about? Or maybe force you to swallow some of the drugs he makes that look like Halloween candy? You can only think of Jonathan coming home to find your lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor.

The sob you let out goes almost unnoticed and you think he'll just ignore you, but the Scarecrow leans back, your eyes meeting as tears roll down your face.

"Shhh. No crying. Those aren't the kind of tears I want from you," he says in a soft, almost soothing tone as he strokes your hair. "I'll let you talk now, but don't scream. Got it?"

You nod as best you can and he finally pulls his hand off of you. Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth when you try to speak.

"Wha... What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

"I'm still deciding," he shrugs.

"I don't have anything you want."

"Maybe I don't want something you have. Maybe I want you to do something for me. Have you thought about that?"

His words take a second to fully hit you. You wish you had misunderstood, but it was impossible not to notice the way he looked at you, how his eyes traveled up and down your body. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you shake your head.

"Please don't. I... I have a husband and he-"

Scarecrow interrupts you with a loud sigh. "You keep talking about your husband, but where is he?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but close it right away, pressing your lips into a thin line. You didn't know where Jonathan really was. Maybe he wasn't even in the office. What if he had lied to you?

He continues in a low tone, as if he's telling you a secret. "What kind of husband leaves his wife like that? So lonely. So vulnerable," one of his hands goes down slowly to caress the bare flesh of your thigh while the other grips your waist. You are startled by the feeling of his hands on you, how his touch is surprisingly slow and sensual. You find yourself thinking about Jonathan for a second before remembering that he's not the one touching you.

"Were you waiting for him? That's why you're wearing this nightgown? How lovely," his laugh makes your cheeks heat up. "Lucky me."

He drags his hand up your stomach, running along your sides, teases one of your breasts until your nipple is a stiffen bud underneath your nightgown. You try to look distant on the outside, but it’s impossible to deny the wetness forming between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to hold in any noises.

You don't want that. You don't want his hands on you. You don't want his body against yours. But you can't remember the last time you felt wanted. It's been so long since you and Jonathan had sex. You're so tired of feeling alone.

Even with these ideas running through your head, you place a hand against his chest, opening up a bit of space between the two of you.

"No. That's not right," you say, "I don't... I don't want this."

"Oh, don't be like that," he whispers, rubbing his face against you neck. "That could be our little secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise."

The air is drawn out of your lungs, as if you've been punched in the stomach. You turn your head slowly, the words stuck in your throat.

"Jonathan?" you mutter.

His body tenses suddenly, and he tilts his head back, staring at you wide-eyed, like a child who just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. How could you not have noticed before? Maybe it was fear confusing your senses, but all the signs were there. The same tall, slender silhouette, the long limbs, the deep brown eyes. The same voice. The same laugh.

He breaks the silence with a low laugh, shaking his head.

"I knew I couldn't fool your forever. You always have been so smart."

He lifts the mask slowly, revealing every bit of his face. The face you knew so well. Jonathan's face.

A million questions cross your mind, but before you can say anything Jonathan presses you against the counter again, capturing your lips.

You gasp and throw a fist into his chest, pressing your teeth against his bottom lip, biting hard enough to hurt, but this jusy makes Jonathan growls like a mad dog. His hands run all over your body, not knowing where to stop. He tugs at your nightgown, the cold air sending shivers through your skin as he grabs and squeezes every bit of flesh he can reach.

The kiss is demanding and sloppy, his hot tongue trailing across your lips and invading your mouth. All you can do is hold on to Jonathan as if your life depended on it, making him grunt as your nails sink into his covered back.

There's something familiar about how your bodies move in sync. A sensual dance that the two of you had done thousands of times before. But now there's a hunger behind Jonathan's movements, something possessive, as if he won’t let you escape. Maybe you were as hungry as he was.

The next moment your world changes perspective as Jonathan turns you around, lowering you down onto the kitchen counter until your cheek is pressed against the cold surface. You moan softly as he lifts the thin material of your nightgown, his mouth leaving warm kiss on the skin of your back.

He pulls your panties down, kicking your legs apart. You were practically naked, while Jonathan was fully clothed, having only taken off his mask and gloves. You feel so exposed, nothing to hide yourself while Jonathan stares at you laid bare before him.

You can hear him shuffling behind you, undoing his own belt and pants in a hurry. You turn your head just in time to see him approaching, his flushed cock pressing against your pussy, making you both grunt together. You don't even care if it hurts, all you want is Jonathan inside you. Filling you completely. Fuck, you want him so bad.

He gathers some of your wetness, his dick sliding in between your folds in slow movements. You moan softly when the tip catches on your clit, the sweet sensation making you buckle your hips towards him.

"Jonny..." you whine, "Please."

Jonathan laughs in a mocking tone, but you know he's not in the mood for teasing either.

You’re wet enough so there is no resistance as he presses intou you, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. Jonathan moves slowly, leaving you’re both panting when he’s fully inside you. The pain and the pleasure mix deliciously, you missed him so much.

The first thrust takes the air out of your lungs. The second makes your legs tremble. The third makes your back arch and a sweet sound leave your lips. He keeps rutting against you, slow and deep. The wet sound of your bodies combined and your moans reverberate through the walls.

"You're the perfect victim, you know?" he says in between grunts, "You're so beautiful when you're scared. Oh, and when you started running – Fuck... I almost lost my mind. I wanted to take you right there on the floor."

You clench around him, driving him even deeper into you. Jonathan realizes the effect his words have on you, giving you a breathless chuckle.

"Did you like that? Do you like the idea of a maniac fucking you?"

The idea shouldn't be so tempting, but you can't stop thinking about Jonathan hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself and pull you into the darkness with him, where he could do whatever he wanted to you.

You nod weakly and he grips you tighter, his nails leaving half-moon marks on the soft skin of your waist. His pace is brutal now, your body moving everytime his hips hits your backside.

"Next time... Hah... I'll give you some of the toxin, just enough to keep you on the edge and a little scared," he takes a sharp breath, throwing his head back, "And then... I'm going to put on my mask and I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You open your mouth, but you can’t form words to save your life, so you reach out behind you

to something to hold until your fingers find the rope around Jonathan’s neck and you pull him towards you. He lets out a surprised sound, turning into a sinful moan. His chest is against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

It’s good. It’s so fucking good. You can’t believe you almost forgot how good it was to have him inside you. You make a silent promise to never let him leave again.

One of his hands moves around your body, his fingers meeting your throbbing clit. He makes quick circles around it, pinching and pressing on it hard. For a moment it all seems too much and not enough at the same time. His cock moving inside you, the pressure on your clit. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.

With your cheek pressed against the counter and tears streaming down your face, you can feel your orgasm approaching. Behind you, Jonathan's movements get more and more out of rhythm and you know he's not that far away either.

He keeps one hand in between your legs while the other lays flat on your mid section, pulling you close to him, your bodies still glued together.

"Tell me -Ah... Tell me who I am,” he mumbles, cheek nuzzled in your temple. “Tell me what I am,” almost sound like he is begging and you could never say no to him.

"Scarecrow!" the word leaves your lips before you know it. "You're the Scarecrow."

"Yes! That’s right! That’s right, good girl. My good girl,” his praise goes straight to your pussy and you squeeze him impossibly tight.

You throw your head back, stretching your neck until you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and tongue while he keeps moving inside you with shallow thrusts.

Your orgasm hits you so hard that almost hurts. The knot in your lower belly finally snaps and the wave of carnal bliss washes over your. Jonathan comes right after you. He curses between clenched teeth, his hips curling, his breath hot on your skin as he fills your cunt with hot wads of cum.

You both breathe heavily in the middle of the kitchen, your sweaty bodies intertwined perfectly. Thank God he is holding you, because you barely can feel your legs and if it weren’t for him you know you would be on the floor by this point.

Jonathan snuggles up against your neck, murmuring something sweet, but your mind is too hazy now to hear him. You bring a hand up to his head, stroking his hair.

As you come down from you high, reality finally hits you. One of Gotham's most wanted criminals just came inside you and now he's cuddling you. Oh, and coincidentally, he's your husband... Fuck.

#jonathan crane #the scarecrow #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #btaa scarecrow #batman rouges #rogue gallery #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow x you

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reaper-in-reverie · 5 months ago

Text

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

note. tw for dark themes (it's dazai) such as suicidal thoughts and suicide attempts, depression, and overdose. all things dazai, in short (?). angst, angst, angst. i think i relate to dazai to some level. also, just to clarify, I'm not trying to portray the agency doesn't care for dazai, they do care for him and it's obvious, I just thought they don't take him seriously sometimes. turned out longer than I desired. ooc writing. wc. 905

Dazai's pen roughly scribbled word after word onto the piece of paper he held in his other hand.

"Please, just this once,"

His handwriting was messy yet still understandable. He stared at the paper for a moment, eyes growing hazy with tears that didn't dare fall; if this worked, he wouldn't have to live meaninglessly any longer, he wouldn't have to look for a justification for his miserable existence anymore.

Dazai quickly placed the piece of paper down on a nearby table, running it in his head if the paper would easily be spotted. Then he moved the table to the corner to make it more noticeable to anyone who could potentially walk in.

"Please, please, just this once, let me do it."

He shakily reached out to the pill bottle.

He stared at it for a moment.

He stopped himself.

It beckoned to him sweetly.

God, Dazai was so tired. He looked the opposite direction, to the wall where his calendar was hung. Today marked the fifth year since Oda's death. His dearest friend. He could feel Odasaku's stare, somewhere out there, and he could feel Odasaku be torn between letting the poor boy rest and wanting Osamu to live. Everyone had their limits.

"I'm sorry, Odasaku—" the words were erased as fast as Dazai had scribbled it into the letter.

He stared at the calendar a little longer, but he didn't think over what he was about to do. Instead he thought about how absurd the Agency was for being so used to him trying to kill himself—the suicidal maniac was always cheery, after all. Never tired. Always bothersome. The Agency would hardly bat an eye. Maybe Atsushi would ask around. That would be the end of it.

"He must be trying to drown himself again. That sorry waste of bandages—he'll come back."

How cruel of them to think he'd always return.

How kind of them to think he'd always return.

"I hope this works."

Dazai breathed out sharply, moving his head to the opposite direction once more, to the pill bottle at the side. He took it and poured some into his hands. Similar to how water escaped from the gaps of his fingers, some pills fell from his hands. He didn't bother to pick them up. This should be enough. This will be enough.

Another stare at his hands.

Then he let the pills drop into his mouth, letting them sit there before he took a glass of water and swallowed harshly, sealing his fate, the pills sliding down his throat with something akin to enthusiasm.

"Just this once."

Dazai paused, waiting for his vision to blur familiarly before attempting to make it back to his futon. Multiple bottles sat around where he hoped to have his final rest, and he stumbled on a few of them—what an ironic design for a coffin.

"Just this once."

He collapsed into the bed, turning his head just slightly to the calendar again. His head spun. His vision faded. He had not learned to begin to care.

"Let me die."

Let me die.

"Please, let me die."

Dazai still woke up.

And he wanted to die more than ever.

He put on a usual cheery smile on the way to work. He stared at the sears on his arms before wrapping a new roll of bandages over them. Yes, everyone would believe that they were there just for design so long they were clean. Yes, no one would suspect a thing.

The Agency wouldn't bat an eye, he thought.

He was just the silly waste of bandages.

"Kunikida-kun—!" Dazai chatted cheerfully, showing the newspaper he picked up to poor Kunikida. It was an article concerning the Agency. Dazai pretended to find it entertaining as he pointed to a pathetic shot of Kunikida.

"You look so manly here, don't you think?" There was a teasing lilt in his voice, which made Kunikida glower at him.

"Oh, you—I should just strangle you!" Kunikida groaned, rolling his eyes and turning away. Dazai laughed obnoxiously, placing the newspaper on Kunikida's desk. He started to walk off, but Atsushi managed to catch up to him before he could leave the office. The younger boy gave Dazai that bright smile, though it immediately morphed into a dismissive look upon processing Dazai's leave.

"Are you skipping work again, Dazai-san?" Atsushi asked, leaning by his desk.

"Of course that bastard's skipping work again," Kunikida rolled his eyes. Dazai looked back at him, his expression solemn for just a split second—before a smirk rose to his face once more. Kunikida hardly listened, anyway.

"You know me!" He waved, shoving his hands in his coat pockets as he made his way to the exit.

"Don't actually kill yourself, this time, Dazai-san!" Atsushi called one last time before Dazai shut the door on the both of them.

This time.

Dazai sighed, walking down the hall and into the elevator to escape the building.

Of course he wasn't actually planning on scurrying away from work. He was going to visit a certain grave. Where a death of five years lay. He was going to visit Odasaku. He was going to visit an old friend who sat peacefully beneath an old willow tree. He wondered if Oda waited for him, wherever he was. Dazai thought he was probably writing a story, living peacefully in the arms of death.

And, someday, Dazai hoped—that he, too, would follow him to where all stories ended.

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chakkll · 1 year ago

Text

Like a Fish Out of Water

Mattheo Riddle x gender neutral!reader

Synopsis: Dragged to a party against your will by your only two friends, they leave you alone to sulk in a corner. Though, unbeknownst to you, a certain Slytherin has taken an interest in you.

Word count: 1.1k

*This is my first time posting a story here, so I hope you enjoy it! I have to admit, Mattheo is a bit OOC in this since it’s kind of hard to write a non-canonical character. On that note, feedback is encouraged and welcomed! I hope you have an amazing day. <3

How did I get here again?

You sigh to yourself, running a hand down your face as you lean against the drinks table in the Slytherin common room filled with too many dancing, sweaty bodies.

As you take in your surroundings, your lips purse as you remember the earlier conversation you had with your friends. Even just thinking about it makes you lose braincells.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And you want me to go to this party why exactly?” You frown at one of your two best friends, Minnie, who only gives you a mischievous smile as she drags you to her dorm.

“To form lasting connections, of course. Me and Owen can’t be your only friends, you know.” Minnie pushes you into her dorm room, followed by your other best friend, Owen.

“Yeah, you can’t expect to gain friends by only worrying about exams due at the end of the year.” Owen shrugs, much to your dismay.

“What happened to always backing me up, Owen?” You grumble as Minnie plops you down at the end of her bed, a couple of Minnie’s dorm mates watching the scene with amused faces.

Owen just smiles apologetically as Minnie shushes you with an overdramatic display of her and Owen’s outfits. “Oh, shush. So, (Y/N), what’ll it be? This—“ she raises one of her brightly colored outfits. “—or that?” she raises one of Owen’s simple yet stylish outfits, and the clothes next to each other display how different Minnie and Owen really are.

You sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, you ended up with something mixed of the two’s styles, but it leans more to Owen’s, since the color scheme is just the mellowed down version of your House’s colors.

As you silently come up with a detailed plan of how exactly to kill the two for abandoning you for their other friends, a monotone voice cuts you from your thoughts.

“Can I get a drink, or are you just gonna stand there all day?”

You immediately look up, slightly startled, only to see a rather tall boy with curly brown hair and dark brown—almost black—eyes staring at you with a rather bored expression.

“Ah—right, sorry.” You mutter, bashfully stepping to the side to let the boy do as he wishes.

He doesn’t reply and you can only assume that he pours himself a drink. As you anxiously fiddle with your fingers, a cup of punch is suddenly in front of you. You look up, only to be met with the same bored expression of the boy from before.

You glance down to the drink in his outstretched hand, and you hesitantly take the cup from him. “…Thank you.”

He ignores your thanks, instead taking a sip from his own cup.

You quietly stare at the drink. “This doesn’t have any alcohol in it, does it?”

“No, you want any?” You look up, slightly taken aback by his question.

“Ah… no, thank you.” You politely decline, and you swear you can see a small smirk appear on his face, but it’s quickly covered by his cup as he takes a drink from it.

You quietly take a sip from the cup, deciding to put your trust in him. Sure, many people would ridicule you for taking a random Slytherin’s word, but you’d rather believe Slytherins are better than doing something so low as to spike your drink.

“So, you got a name?” The curly-haired boy’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“(Y/N),” You reply, though you kind of have to scream in order for him to hear you over the loud music. “You?”

“Mattheo,” He takes another sip from his drink. “You seem out of place, (Y/N).”

You smile lightly at his observation. “I guess you could say that—like a fish out of water,” You laugh lightly as you gesture around the room with your drink in hand. “Parties… not really my thing.”

“I could tell,” It kind of feels like he’s teasing you, but you brush it off. “What is your thing, then?”

You shrug. “Not talking to strangers?” You can tell he has to bite back an amused laugh, but he manages to keep his calm and collected exterior.

“I get that,” He muses quietly, glancing around the room. “Socializing isn’t really a hobby of mine, either.” He, once again, takes a sip from his drink.

“Oh?” You quirk a brow, intrigued. “Then how come you approached me?”

He shrugs. “Nothing better to do than speak to a sixth-year who’s clearly out of their element.

You snort quietly, feeling a little offended at his comment. “I’m actually a seventh-year,” He only shrugs with an amused expression. “…Am I really that awkward-looking?”

“Yeah, actually.” You swear you see him crack a smile as he takes another sip.

You’re about to make a snarky reply until a hand grabs your arm. Instinctively, you rip your arm out of the hand’s grasp and whirl around, only to see an anxious Minnie and Owen, something quite out of character for the two of them.

“Peeves showed up just now, he’s going to tell Filch about the alcohol and kids from other Houses; we have to go unless we want detention.” Minnie quickly informs you, an anxious Owen nodding his head from behind her.

“Oh… alright,” You nod, slightly disappointed that your conversation with Mattheo has to be cut short. You turn to glance back at Mattheo, but he’s already waving you off.

“You heard her. If you don’t want detention, you should get outta here,” He chuckles lightly—a surprisingly pleasant sound. He notices your disappointment and smirks quietly. “We can talk later, sweetheart.”

You hear Minnie gasp quietly in delight from behind you, and you can only imagine her grabbing an equally shocked Owen’s arm in surprise.

Your eyes widen at the pet name, but you only return his smirk with one of your own. “Alright. See you later, baby.” The words easily roll off your tongue, and you don’t even have time to cringe at your choice of words before Owen is pulling both you and Minnie away.

“We gotta go, we can’t get detention—specifically you, Minnie, you can’t afford another.” Owen’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment as the three of you rush away from the party.

Little do you know, Mattheo has a similar reaction to you, though more surprised and—impressed?—than anything as he watches the three of you disappear into the crowd with wide eyes. “…Baby, huh?”

He can feel himself smiling as two of his friends, Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire, approach him for the same reason your friends approached you.

Mattheo snorts and mutters to himself as he and his friends retreat from the party.

“Fish out of water, my ass.”

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #harry potter #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic

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yaderyngoch · 1 year ago

Text

I made a comment a while ago about a JayTim Tailor AU, and then the brainworms wouldn't stop so now I've actually written it.

Disclaimer that I'm super new to the fandom so this is my first time writing for it, and I also written one little fanfic in the past 3 years for a different fandom so I am Rusty and they're probably very OOC lol.

Tailor’s shops, Tim had found, were rather soothing places. Quiet and smelling faintly of amber and cedar. His chosen shop was an octagonal room lined with built-in shelves and racks of suits and armoires of darkly stained mahogany. A table in the centre of the room housed a swatch book of different types of wool and lining silks that Tim liked to flip through just to feel the delicately woven fabrics.

On one side of the shop window, there was a mannequin dressed in a half-finished suit, one side left without the facing so onlookers could see the canvas and careful stitching that gave the suit its structure. On the other there was an old treadle sewing machine, though Tim doubted it was still functional. Nevertheless it helped add to the timeless sort of atmosphere of the shop, something that felt so far removed from all the computers and cold artificial displays Tim usually worked with.

He’d been coming to this tailor for a few years now. Bruce had recommended him, and Tim had been coming ever since. There was something calming about the familiarity. Coming in and greeting the salesman who recommended a few suits for him to try on, settling on one that he thought looked best before the salesperson called the tailor out to him. It was always the same tailor, an elderly man with small, quick hands and soft eyes by the name of Lucius Fox.

Tim waited for him now, dressed in a neat blue suit the salesperson had chosen off the rack for Tim. The shop did offer entirely bespoke suits, but Tim had always found that to be much more elaborate than he felt he needed. As long as he looked neat and presentable, it worked for him.

He flipped through that fabric swatch book, tracing fingertips along the pinked edges of soft blue wool and reading the sticker on the back of the previous swatch as though he had any idea what any of it meant. Camel hair, it said. Tim didn’t think the fur of a camel would be particularly soft or good for suitmaking but evidently he was wrong.

“Mr. Drake?” Called a voice from the door to the tailor’s workshop itself, a voice lower and smoother than Tim had been expecting.

Tim looked up to see a man walking towards him, tall and broad with a streak of white through dark hair, a ruler and chalk in one hand and a pincushion secured to the other wrist with a band of black elastic. He’d forgone the jacket of his three-piece suit, the sleeves of his dress shirt neatly rolled up to his elbows, a tape measure draped around his neck. The suit was fitted just enough to display a figure far sturdier than Tim would’ve expected for a tailor, just hints of a broad chest and arms that filled out the sleeves far better than most.

His face was just as chiselled, with sharp green eyes that seemed to shimmer with amusement, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly.

It took Tim far too long to realise he’d been staring, and he quite quickly flicked his eyes back down to the book before him, feeling warmth rise on his cheeks. “Yes, that’s- uhm.” He cleared his throat. “That’s me.” He looked back up at the Tailor. “Sorry, I just was expecting someone… else.”

The Tailor smiled in something between understanding and amusement. “Yes, Mr. Fox is out for the week so he’s left me to handle the shop. I’ll be taking care of you today.” The blush rose higher on Tim’s cheeks, and if he didn’t know better he’d assume the Tailor was doing that on purpose, with that honeyed voice of his and those smoothly spoken words. “My name is Jason.”

“Tim,” he answered, picking at the band of his watch.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tim,” answered Jason, and Tim was almost irritated at how well such a simple and common name rolled off Jason’s tongue. Jason gestured towards the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, a platform just a little bit above the ground that made fittings easier, evidently. “Stand up there and face the mirror,” said Jason, tone polite and professional despite the command.

Tim nodded, trying not to follow Jason’s order too quickly and trying even harder not to fidget. He’d gotten better at it over the years. At his first fitting, Mr. Fox had smacked him upside the head with a ruler and told him to sit still. Now though, he had a feeling he’d find it just as difficult to behave as he had back then.

Jason came to stand close behind Tim, and it was with another small amount of irritation that Tim noticed even atop the pedestal, Jason was still slightly taller than him. “Tell me a little more about how you like your suits to fit.” His voice was softer now that they stood closer together, a gentle sound rather close to Tim’s ear. Tim couldn’t tell if he could feel the body heat radiating off of Jason, or if it was his own body that was warming up.

“Well… I’m not really sure I have much of a preference. Mr. Fox just fixed whatever he thought looked bad.” Tim wasn’t particularly meticulous when it came to fashion.

Jason hummed in understanding, stepping back just slightly to sweep his eyes over Tim, analysing the way the suit fit him with a careful, sharp stare. “Well, Mr. Fox is very good at what he does, but between you and I? He's also ancient and tends to prefer older, boxier styles, which I don’t think particularly suit you.” Tim felt rather like a blank canvas, where Jason could see the vision of the finished piece and Tim couldn’t. “You have a much narrower waist than most of the men I see. I think you’d look far better in something that showed that off a little more.”

Tim tugged at the hem of the jacket, trying to see what it was that Jason saw, but as far as he was concerned a suit was a suit and as long as it fit he wasn’t sure the cut of it made much of a difference. It was something to wear to a formal event and want to take off as soon as he got home. As far as he knew, the one he had on already fit fairly well for the most part.

“Here, I’ll show you what I mean and you can see what you think,” Jason continued, stepping closer to Tim again, standing right behind him so that in the mirror he could see his own silhouette overshadowed by Jason’s. Jason stroked gentle fingers up Tim’s spine, a featherlight touch to smooth out the wrinkle at the base of his neck. Tim suppressed a shiver as Jason leaned in close to place a pin to mark where the extra fabric near the collar needed to be taken in.

“Generally, off the rack suits were designed to fit men with far worse posture than you,” Jason explained, moving on to pin the sides of the suit. He sounded… appreciative, nearly praising despite the aforementioned posture making more work for him.

Tim could definitely feel his body heat now, attention narrowed down to where he could feel the delicate brush of skilled fingers along his waist, sliding a pin through the fabric with ease and precision Tim wouldn’t have associated with larger, stronger hands, far less wrinkled than Mr. Fox.

Tim could feel the warmth of Jason’s breath, could see him leaning in close in the reflection of the mirror. Now that Jason wasn’t looking at Tim’s face, Tim couldn’t help but stare at Jason’s, at the piercing, intense gaze, careful and precise in his work. He was much younger than Tim assumed most tailors were, likely only a few years older than Tim himself.

Jason moved to the other side, momentarily placing a hand on Tim’s waist to pull away the fabric needed. Tim wondered what he was thinking, so focused and diligent, fingers so much more skilled than Tim would’ve expected. It was an art, really, and there was beauty in simply watching the way Jason worked, in feeling each gentle brush of fingertips along the fabric, light and delicate and telling of so much skill in those hands. Some part within Tim desperately wanted to ask for more, for a taste of what those feathery sweeping touches promised.

“How does that feel?” Tim snapped his eyes away from Jason’s face and back to his own reflection, reminded quite quickly that Jason was a professional only doing his job and Tim desperately needed to get it together. Jason was reminding Tim that he desperately needed a few things.

“Uh… what?” Tim asked, feeling suddenly rather silly and realising he hadn’t been paying any attention at all to any of the things he was supposed to be paying attention to.

Fortunately, instead of the irritation Tim had been expecting, Jason simply laughed, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “The suit. Does it feel too tight? Too loose?” Oh- right. That was why Tim was here.

He looked at his silhouette in the mirror again, this time actually looking at himself instead of at Jason, and found he quite immediately knew what Jason had been talking about before. More than just fitting him better, Tim felt like he looked more… like himself. Not someone putting on a costume to go play the character of some high-society heir. He looked… really good, and good in a way he hadn’t expected to see in himself.

“Well?” Jason asked, smirk tugging at his lips again. “You seem quite easy to leave speechless, but I would appreciate at least some feedback.”

“Oh- sorry. It feels good. Thank you,” Tim answered, looking back at Jason in time to see his satisfied smile.

“Good,” said Jason, stepping closer again. “Now for the sleeves, I think they’re a little long for you, hmm?”

Tim nodded, knowing at least that much needed to be fixed. The hem of the sleeve was barely above his knuckles. Jason leaned in, left shoulder brushing Tim’s right as he slid one hand past Tim’s hip, one hand on either side of Tim’s.

Tim’s breath hitched, trying to calm the way his heart raced at their proximity. He knew this was part of the fitting, that this was the easiest way for a tailor to roll up his sleeve. Mr. Fox had done it too, but when Jason touched him, it was… different. No- Jason was just doing his job. He was a professional, Tim shouldn’t be thinking these things.

Jason’s index finger brushed Tim’s palm as he started to roll the sleeve up, tucking the excess fabric inward so it looked more like what the finished product might be. He slid two fingers beneath the sleeve to help smooth out the folded edge, the backs of them brushing along the sensitive skin of Tim’s wrist. Tim would be surprised if Jason couldn’t feel his racing heartbeat like this, but if he did, he didn’t say anything of it, simply curling his fingers and bringing them down slightly to bring the sleeve down just a little.

“How’s that?” Jason asked, voice hardly above a whisper now that he was practically speaking in Tim’s ear, their faces only a few inches apart. He slid his fingers out of the sleeve, pulling away again so Tim could examine the length for himself.

“Yeah,” Tim answered breathlessly. “Yeah, I like that.” He realised now that Jason had pulled away, he very nearly felt cold. But at least the distance gave Tim room to catch his breath and chase away those creeping thoughts.

Then, Jason stepped in front of Tim, between him and the mirror, and Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest. Tim had nearly forgotten about how Tailors marked the second sleeve, and he was swiftly reminded when Jason dropped to his knees in front of him.

Tim immediately held his breath, staring directly forward and absolutely refusing to look down.

“You know, I can’t do this if you don’t relax,” Jason teased. It was then that Tim realised he’d balled his hands into fists, and then that he knew that Jason definitely knew what he was doing. He released the breath he’d been holding, unclenching his fists and relaxing his arms at his sides.

Jason hummed in satisfaction, and Tim felt that gentle brush of warm fingers against his own as Jason held the ruler up to measure the new length of the sleeve from the tip of his thumb, sliding a pin into place before repeating the process with the other sleeve. Tim was trying not to tremble, trying to ignore what he could see of Jason in his peripheral vision, trying not to wonder what it might be like if he used that tape measure for something other than its intended purpose.

Finally, Jason stood again, face so close to Tim’s that Tim could make out the different shades of green and blue in his eyes.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Now, if you’d please remove the jacket, it’s time to mark the pants.”

Tim was going to die in this tailor’s shop.

#jaytim #jaytim fic #my fic #my writing #*wordvomits 2k of technical sewing jargon* lick it up baby #I highly doubt there is actual interest in this but that's Okay because I am my own target audience

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