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benz12313 · 3 months ago

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Letters From Home - Ridoc x Reader

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You get a disturbing letter from home, and you have to deal with those emotions....while being tortured for class. Luckily your friends are there with you.

Warnings: extreme violence, torture, pain seeking behavior, self-harm thoughts? (not quite sure if this counts or not), abusive/shitty parents, talk of death, friendship angst, mental health struggles, grief

Author's Note: This honestly is me getting out a fraction of my emotions recently, trying to put some things into words. Sorry if it's a bit everywhere, I'm hoping that getting some of it out on paper will help me process and get back to 'normal'. Plus I love me some sweet and protective Ridoc so it's a win-win on my end. I hope you like it!

Word Count: 2,843

I stared down at the letter sitting on my desk, innocently laying, despite the hateful writing on the page. Just a mere two sentences, yet they were able to wreck me to my core.

Don’t write again. Our daughter died when she stepped foot on the parapet.

Written in Mum’s handwriting, yet unsigned.

Tears didn’t come, I was too shocked I think. Sure, she and Dad had screamed and yelled and cursed me out of their home when I’d said that I planned on joining the Riders Quadrant but…I’d never thought that anger would stick.

That after a year, when their daughter was finally able to write to them again…this was the reaction.

I’d told them of how successful I’d been, how I’d manifested a useful signet, bonded my dragon, spoke about all of my friends. Talked about how close Ridoc and I had been getting lately.

It was hell at times, living here, and I yearned for the warm fireplace of home. Of mother’s freshly baked bread, and father’s horseback riding lessons. Of my younger brother’s teasing and my younger sister’s gossip sessions. Something I’d probably never experience again.

A sob caught in my throat but I was pulled from my grief by a knock on the door. I swallowed my pain, and shoved the letter in my drawer, before pulling myself together. Careful to paint neutrality on my face before opening the door.

Varrish. And two of the guards he usually has following him, flanking him on either side. Shit. RSC.

“Time for class L/N.”

~~~~~~

I sat silently with our squad as we waited for the teachers to come back. I told my friends my ‘secret’ was that I was too afraid to write to my parents. The only thing I could think of. Not really the truth, but the look Ridoc had shot me amongst our friends giving me encouraging statements told me that he could see beyond my words. Luckily Violet’s lack of a secret stole all the attention away.

Our daughter died when she stepped foot on the parapet.

The words echoed in my head as if she’d spoken them herself. It’s all I could think of as my friends strategized.

It wasn’t long until I was chained up next to Ridoc, the position was supposed to be uncomfortable but my body was beautifully numb. The only good thing about doing this now; my mind was so haywire that I couldn’t feel a fucking thing. I was barely here. Barely alive. My thoughts were fucking eating me alive as they began torturing Violet. Egging on my friends, my squadmates.

Don’t write again.

They were supposed to be my parents. They were supposed to fucking love me. Who cares which quadrant I decided to go to? They should be fucking proud. Not…what? Disappointed? Angry? …Sad? I just wanted to make a fucking difference. I wanted to help people and my damn hands are too shaky for a needle or pouring medicine. Not everyone in my family had to be a damn healer.

When the woman’s fist meets my cheek, feeling bursts through me and for a delicious second everything feels okay. I relish in every punch. Every burst of feeling that erupted from every punch the woman rained on me. I lost count, but part of me waited for the next hit. Blood pooled in my mouth, but when she knelt down and met my gaze with a sick smile I missed the pain that was fading. Fear addled me now that my brain was starting to flicker to life again.

“Got a secret for me sweetie?” Her tone was malicious. “It can all stop, one of your squad’s secrets, the phrase. You haven’t made a single sound since coming in this room, this must be terrifying for you. It can all end. Just speak.” Ridoc thrashed next to me, swearing and spewing angry words but I can’t distinguish them past the ringing that’s picking up in my ears.

“Hit me.” I said, voice surprisingly calm. My friends went silent as they took me in. Really took me in. But all I did was repeat in the same tone. “Just fucking hit me.”

“As you wish.” She did. She kept punching, until I could no longer see. Until my mind shut off completely. Until I passed out into blissful silence.

~~~~~

A few hours later I awoke, eyes snapping open, surprisingly. Last I knew I had two swollen eyes. I looked to my side, to see Ridoc sitting on the end of my…bunk? Still the torture chamber then. His eyes met mine. Relief and fear were swimming in his eyes. They darted to the side, and there I finally saw Nolan leaning over Violet, mending her…shoulder?

I missed something. Obviously. I don’t have to ask though.

“Varrish.” He muttered to me, and then it looked like he wanted to say something but he stopped himself. His eyes were piercing though, focused entirely on me. “You good? We lost you for a while there. Not sure if you were passed out or not, but Nolan said you had a nasty concussion when he mended you.”

“We haven’t broken?” I asked and he bit his lip, but nodded. His eyes flashed with annoyance at me brushing off his earlier words. “Good.”

Maybe I’d get punched again.

~~~~~~

But I wasn’t, unfortunately. We escaped, mostly due to Nolan’s ‘help’. I was safe in my room, as tears pooled in my eyes. My chest ached, a void building in my soul. My family didn’t want me anymore. All because I was a fucking rider. My dragon raged in my mind, but I couldn’t hear her words, her thoughts. I was consumed by my grief, my anger, my…pain. So much mental pain.

Tears erupted.

I shattered.

~~~~~

I must’ve missed class. There was banging on my door. I didn’t really care though. Beyond relieving myself and a daily shower that felt like torture…I hadn’t left my room since we’d escaped the chamber. I’d stopped crying. But only because I had no energy left.

“Dammit Y/N!” I heard a male voice yell and then my door crashed in. Like off the fucking hinges in.

I stared, wide-eyed and sitting up in bed, seeing Ridoc and Sawyer heaving in my doorway. Violet and Rhiannon were standing behind them, looking around their bodies to see me, giving me sheepish yet hard looks. My eyes snapped to Ridoc as he stepped forward, eyes trained directly on me as he walked to my side.

“It’s been three days Princess.” The teasing nickname he’d given me felt like like an accusation as it left his lips. “We’ve let you rot in here. Made excuses. It ends now. Tell us what the fuck happened to you in there.”

“Desk drawer.” I sighed, my voice sounding broken and hoarse. Confusion flickered across his face but as he turned I realized Violet had already crossed the room and opened the drawer. She held the slightly crumpled paper in her hands. Anger then worry danced across her face quickly, as it often does with her, and she settled on comfort as she handed the letter to Rhi before settling her gaze on me.

The note passed hands quickly, and when Ridoc’s eyes scanned the page his face softened completely. “Y/N-“

“I lied earlier. I’d written them weeks ago. I received this the morning of our torture lesson. Just before Varrish grabbed me.” I whispered, looking down at my lap. “My real secret was that I don’t know what to do now. I have no one.”

“That’s not true.” Ridoc’s voice sounded panicked, causing me to look up at him in shock.

“He’s right Y/N, you still have us. You have Draka. You’re not alone.” Rhiannon assured, sitting on the side opposite where Ridoc stood, and pulling me into a grounding hug. “I can’t imagine-“

“I can.” Violet whispered, settling in next to Rhi, but letting me be consumed by her alone. “And I’m sorry they had such rigid expectations for you. It’s not easy.”

“They wanted me to be a healer.” I confided, never having shared that information before, but it felt…nice…confiding in them. “I didn’t. We fought about it and when I left…” My voice caught in my throat. “I never thought…” My throat closed, and words escaped me. Suddenly I had no clue what to do again and grief wracked through me as I involuntarily leaned into Rhi.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Sawyer said as I shook in Rhi’s arms, and I buried my head in her shoulder.

“My thoughts won’t stop. The shame. The grief. Some anger too. And when that woman hit me…” I gulped, words caught in my throat again as I pulled back out of Rhi’s arms, backing up until I was leaning against the headboard. I suddenly felt dirty..or dark.. and I didn’t want that to spread to my friends. As if it could merely by touch.

Ridoc sat, and looked at me, really looked at me. His chocolate eyes were dark, and stabbed right through me as he gave me a solemn look. It was like he could see into the core of my being. “You forgot it all.” He muttered, and Violet held her breath next to me, looking between the two of us and putting it together. “When you felt the pain your thoughts stopped. That’s why you asked her to keep hitting you.”

Fear stabbed through me when I saw the disappointed look on Rhi’s face. It reminded me of when I was a teen, and mom would… Pain erupted in my brain again and I fought off tears.

I nodded in confirmation, I was unable to back out now, that much was obvious.

“Y/N…” Sawyer’s voice was as disappointed as Rhi’s face as the tears escaped.

“Guys don’t-“ Violet started but Ridoc’s steady voice interrupted her.

“If you can’t be supportive get the fuck out.�� Ridoc’s voice was unwavering, but his eyes were soft as they looked into my own. “Now’s not the time.”

My chest tightened. Warmth filled me with his simple sentences. But it was ripped away with Sawyer’s statement.

“I’m not going to pretend that wanting to get beat until she was barely breathing is normal or healthy Ridoc! She goaded that woman until she couldn’t speak!” Sawyer seethed, glaring between the two of us. My heart stopped. Nobody had told me it had gotten that bad. Fuck, I don’t remember most of it do I? How much memory had I lost?! “If you hadn’t broken your fingers to get free and stop that bitch Y/N probably would be dead! It’s bad enough that it happened, but to know she wanted it is fucked Ridoc! We almost watched her die!”

Ridoc jumped to his feet, looking between my shocked and tear-streaked face and Sawyer’s angry and…terror filled one. I’d scared them. Badly. I cried harder. Ridoc turned to say something to Sawyer, his fist curled beside him and shaking, like he wanted to deck his best friend. All I could do was curl into myself further, shame pulling at me. Sawyer was right.

“Enough!” Violet’s voice booming shocked us all, four heads turning to hers at once. “It’s a perfectly normal reaction to grief-“

“You can’t seriously-“ Sawyer started.

“I am serious! How would you feel if after a fucking year of risking your life daily your parents sent you that? Huh?” She narrowed a glare on him but he shut up. “And then immediately after you get tortured? The pain feels like a gift when everything else feels impossible. It reminds you that you’re alive. She’s alive. That’s all that matters right now.” She turned her head to me, eyes softening as well as her tone. “You’re alive Y/N. I don’t care what that letter says. You are alive and they will be reminded of that every day until they get word of your death. Nothing will change that. You are worthy of living, no matter what choice you made. Their opinions of you don’t matter, because they chose for you not to matter to them. And that says a lot more about them than it does you.”

Tears fell in rivers, my vision blurring until all I could see was the shapes of their bodies. “I’m sorry.” I whispered, before pulling up my knees and hiding my body in them, arms wrapping around my body as I curled in as far as I could go. “I’m sorry.”

Ridoc broke his fingers to help me. I terrified them with my selfish emotions.

“Just a selfish little brat! I swear Y/N if you walk onto that parapet you will be a disgrace to your lineage. You have siblings to be an example for. Are you gonna teach them to be selfish too?! All because you have delusions of heroism.” Father’s voice rained down on me as I packed my bag to leave for conscription day. “So fucking selfish! No daughter of mine will ever be a rider! You’d never make it over the parapet and even if you did, you’d never bond a dragon. You’d die before you ever got the chance!”

Selfish.

The word kept echoing in my head. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. I couldn’t see anything, not through the tears. I couldn’t hear anything beyond my sobs and gasping breaths. And suddenly the world felt like it was falling and I flailed, panic consuming me.

“Shhh. I’ve got you.” Was that…Ridoc? Other voices rang out but I couldn’t distinguish them anymore. I only could hear his because the rumbling of his chest helped me hear the words as I stilled in his arms. “I’m taking her to my room. We kinda broke hers, and honestly, Sawyer’s still pissing me off right now with his bullshit.” Had I lost time again? “I’ll make sure she eats and gets taken care of. Tell leadership she’s still sick. That I caught it too. I’m keeping her for the rest of the day.” He was moving now, walking.

I was still sobbing, but luckily his room wasn’t far, and I felt my body dip into the mattress as he set me down on his bed.

I laid there, as Ridoc tucked me under the covers, before he bustled around the room for a minute as my sobs died down. Guilt wracked through me. He’d broken his fingers because I’d goaded that woman. Fuck, I’d goaded that woman into hurting me. Had I lost my mind after those first few punches? Had the concussion knocked the sense out of me completely?

I was dragged out of my thoughts by Ridoc climbing under the covers next to me, so we were face to face. He smoothed my hair a bit before his hand rested on my neck, his rough fingers rubbing along my jaw comfortingly. He scooted closer, until we were nearly touching. “Y/N, I’m sorry Sawyer was an ass.”

“He’s right.” I choked out and Ridoc’s soft gaze hardened a tad, his face going deathly serious.

“No. Plenty of people turn to pain to get through emotions. Sure, there are better ways. But those weren’t available to you then. You did what you could.” He affirmed, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry your parents are shitbags, and don’t understand just how badass their kid is.”

“I thought they were just scared.” I admitted quietly. “I never thought they’d actually hate me for it. They aren’t bad people. This is the first time they’ve ever…”

“Ever been awful parents?” He supplied after I’d trailed off. I nodded. “Maybe they just never saw you as your own person. But you are, and you proved that by becoming a rider. By doing what felt right to you.”

“Thanks Ridoc.” I whispered, not quite believing his words. It was something to think about later though. “You’re the best.”

“I’ve been told.” He winked before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making me snort. He smiled at my reaction, still rubbing my jaw comfortingly. Honestly it was starting to put me to sleep. “And hey, next time you get this feeling, because I know you and I know this isn’t close to being fixed.” He flashed me a knowing grin that made me let out a sheepish smile. “Next time, come to me. I’ll help you get that feeling without you getting actually hurt. There are other ways to work through it. Better, more constructive and enjoyable ways.”

“Okay.” I yawned out, snuggling into his chest.

“I mean it Princess. I’ve got you. Promise me you’ll find me next time.” He said as he wrapped his arms around me. His scent surrounded me, lulling me towards sleep even more as my body fully relaxed.

“I promise Ridoc.” I sighed, and he pulled me close.

“Good, now rest. Real honest rest.” He said, and I did just that, as I listened to the steady beating of his heart.

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novemberheart · 9 months ago

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{overview} You bond with both your alphas— the topic of your heat comes up again

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, cursing, backstories, things get a bit heated between you and John

Chapter 20 <- Chapter 21 -> Chapter 22

“You went out for what?” John huffed, sitting across from Kyle.

“A walk, sir,” Kyle replied, his eyes straight ahead. He had already mentally prepared for this.

“And you come back with”- he trailed off.

“A puppy, sir,” Kyle was trying to bite back a smile. It wasn't that he wasn't afraid of the captain- he was. It was the image of your happy face in his brain that was causing the battle in his mind. The truth was he wasn't sorry, he would get yelled at every day if it meant you being happy. John groaned, recognizing the dazed look in his beta eyes. He must still have happy omega clouding his brain.

“Dismissed,” he groaned again, leaning back in his seat.

“Love you, Cap,” Kyle shouted over his shoulder bolting down the hall towards the small backyard.

Your puppy- Vernie (for Inverness) as she had been renamed, wasn't blind. She did appear to be deaf, though.

Simon insisted she was just stubborn like you.

“You two kind of look alike,” Johnny smirked, waving his finger in front of the puppy’s snapping mouth. You giggled, scooping the excited pup off the floor. She licked your chin, nuzzling her way against your neck.

“It's the eyes,” Simon commented. Johnny and Kyle nodded in agreement, and each of their camera rolls filled with enough pictures of your puppy dog eyes to prove it.

“Well I take that as a compliment,” you grinned, setting her back down. “Go to Daddy Kyle,” you urged.

“How come he's daddy?” Johnny shot.

“I was with her when we got her,” Kyle reminded, picking the golden retriever puppy up. “When we see Uncle Johnny we what?” Kyle whispered to her. “We growl, that's right! Good dog,” he praised.

You giggled making your way back inside for a bowl of water. You bit your lip as you noticed John sitting at the dining table, deep in thought. You crept over, your hand resting on his shoulder.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, grabbing a hold of your hand and kissing your palm.

“You're not too mad, are you?” you pressed. He pulled you over so you were sitting in front of him, guiding you so you were sitting on his leg.

“You happy?” he hummed. You quickly nodded your head, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “Then no,” he smiled just enough to where his dimples poked through. You grinned, resting yourself against his chest. “Wish it was more of a group decision, but”- he cut himself off.

“The next time I get a pet I'll make sure to run it by everyone,” you smirked. You jumped when a hand collided with your bottom. It wasn't hard, but it definitely caught you off guard. He chuckled at you.

“Only goldfish from now on, yes?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Come on pup,” you jumped at Simon’s voice. He had the tendency to just appear out of nowhere. Years are training you suppose.

“Where are we going?” you questioned pulling your shoes on.

“Errands,” he responded coldly.

“Could you be any more vague, Simon?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” he replied, causing you to chuckle. As the two of you walked down the street a sudden craving formed in your head. An urge to test the waters. Your hand reached up, gripping onto his forearm as you walked. He made no move to brush you off, actually his body shifted closer, so your arm didn't have to extend so far.

It was weird seeing him outside without his mask. He blended in with the crowd even with his hulking frame.

He led you into a shoe store.

“Simon you don't need to do this,” you began, your chest growing warm.

“I want to,” he pressed.

“Thank you,” you beamed. He rolled his eyes at you, patting you on the hip.

“I'll stay here,” he groaned, sitting down on one of the try on benches. “You stay where I can see you. You're still on parole,” he grumbled. You giggled, heading towards an aisle.

You ended up with four pairs. A pair of dress shoes, a pair of workout shoes, a pair of casual shoes, and rain boots because Simon was tired of the entryway smelling like “wet feet” every time it rained. “Thank you, Simon,” it was around the tenth time you had thanked him, but it was important for him to know how much you appreciated it. He carried the large bag for you and you were surprised when he began walking even further away from the house. “I need lunch after that,” he sighed. Your stomach growled in response. You two ended up in a Chinese restaurant, the smell drawing you in from a few streets over.

“Do you ever miss Manchester?” you asked between bites.

“You ever miss the toilet when you leave?” he shot back. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Was it really that bad?”

“No.” he agreed. “Reminds me of my father though,” he conversed. You suddenly felt favored to be a part of this conversation. Simon Riley was opening up.

“I take it that's a bad thing,” you urged. He nodded his head.

“Piece of shite that one. He was a beta, my mom was an alpha. Spent the rest of his days trying to prove he was the strongest,” Simon shared.

“Did they both pass away?”

“He died from cancer. She lived just fine for another five years. Passed away from untreated pneumonia.”

“That's terrible Simon,” you breathed. “She sounds like a strong woman. I mean she has to be, her son is strong,” you affirmed. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him but your words had hit him, deep. It's all he wanted. To be half as good of an alpha as she was. She was strong, loyal, protective, and loving to those who were hers. John reminded him of her in a lot of ways.

“She was, pup,” Simon finally responded. “She’d like you,” he added softly. You blinked back some tears, shifting in your seat. “What about your father?” he asked suddenly.

“He and my mother were both betas, both of them coming from a long line of alpha-omega pairings. We were kind of the odd ones out of the family. It didn't matter much to us though. We were all close, especially with me being the only child,” you paused, your lunch suddenly looking unappealing.

“It was a shock when your mom left?”

You swallowed, nodding your head.

“She came into my bedroom that night and just held me. I'm not sure when she left. My dad was so angry. I didn't know what to do, so I just curled up in her closet with the clothes she had left behind. My dad moved on quickly- I feel like it was just out of spite,” you sneered.

“What was she like?”

“She wasn't horrible. She just wasn't my mom. I never really talked to her honestly. I just couldn't wrap my head around seeing her stuff where my mom's stuff used to be. Her curling iron on the bathroom counter, her silverware in the drawer, her couch in the living room- her pictures on the wall. The worst part was she had five kids from a previous relationship. I had to share a room with three of them. I started having a hard time breathing. I even passed out a few times. My grandparents decided to step in and suggested I get put into an omega-holding house. By then, I was so desperate to get away I begged my father to let me go. I think that hurt him more than he ever let on. I lived in that omega house for a year until I was transferred across the country to a different one. I haven't seen any of them since,” you finished. You looked away from your plate. Simon had his arms crossed over the table, his eyes intently on you.

He hated it. Hated the way you had been left in the dirt. You didn't deserve that.

“That's not fair, sweetheart,” he said softly. The tears finally escaped, his thumb reaching out to brush them away before you could.

“It's alright,” you tried to smile, sniffling into your sleeve. He understood you more. He realized the parts of you that drove him crazy were the parts that so deeply resembled himself. You were still in fight or flight mode. Still waiting for the moment you would have to take off into the wind. Still waiting for the moment you would be peeled away from this pack like your old one. He wished he understood it sooner, but he's not sure it would've had such an impact on him.

He was no longer in fight or flight mode, his mind dead set on one: fight. Fight for you to feel safe within this pack- within your pack.

You were a bit nervous to sleep in the same room as both the alphas. At first, you tried to sneak your way into the beta’s room, but John quickly hoisted you over his shoulder, tossing you on the bed. The scent was slightly overwhelming, turning your bones to mush. Simon was still in the shower, and you were curled up on John’s chest, his hands running up and down your thighs.

The conversation you had with Simon was still weighing on your mind. It must've spread into your scent.

“What's eatin’ at you, love?” John hummed, his hands giving your thighs a squeeze.

“Me and Simon were talking about our old packs. It just brought up some feelings,” you mumbled, taking a large inhale of his scent. It settled at the base of your neck, causing a warm buzz throughout your body. “What was your pack like?” you questioned, resting your chin against his chest.

“It was big,” he sighed, his tired blue eyes dancing over your face. “Too big. Lots of power struggles between alphas.”

“That why you left?”

“Partly. My family was pushed around a lot, my father is a good man, but he isn’t strong. I hoped joining the military would make it so that when I went back I could prove our family was strong,” he sighed. You knew what John was talking about.

“Communal pack?”

He nodded his head. Communal packs were very traditional and rarely worked. There could be up to thirty different families living together under the jurisdiction of one alpha.

“What was your alpha like?”

“I never met him,” John chuckled. “He seemed decent enough, though. It was hard for the other alphas of the pack, you know how they are, have to be the toughest in the room. My family still lives there, two of my sisters have bonded and have pups of their own. My brother is still causin’ trouble,” he chuckled fondly and your heart ached for him.

“Do you ever miss it?”

“I miss them. We still see each other a few times a year. My eldest sister and I see each other the most. Her work brings her near base. And I have to call my mother at least once a week or she’ll march up here and give me what for,” he smirked, making you giggle. “I'd like you to meet them someday.”

“I would love to!” you cheered beaming up at him.

“They’ll love you. Probably want us to move back up there.”

“Are any of them omegas?” you pondered.

“My brother is. My eldest sister is an alpha and my two others are betas,” he explained.

“That's a nice spread,” you smiled, stretching out on top of him. You wondered what John was like as a child. Was he always so headstrong? Protective? Determined? Troublemaker? The thought made you chuckle.

“Would you? Move back there?”

“Never. It's just like base, except there are fewer rules and regulations. Not the place for you or the rest of us,” he explained. “Where would you want to live?” he hummed, rolling onto his side, keeping a firm grip on you.

“Somewhere with trees and rain. I want to be near the mountains. I also want to live near a big city so there's always something to do. Oh, and I want a big backyard with chickens and a pool,” you smiled, your fingers smoothing over his beard. His cheeks lifted in a smile.

“Sounds doable,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your cheek. He let your noses brush, smiling at the way you're crinkled. He closed the gap, his strong arms holding you in place as your lips moved together.

They all kissed so differently. Johnny was all-consuming, his ability to make the thoughts in your head vanish never fails. Even his short ones were eager and overwhelming. Kyle was playful. Lots of teeth and tongue, but never enough to fully satiate you until you yank him as close as you can. Maybe that's why he does it. He wants you to want him. Lucky for him you fall into that trap regularly. John’s were melting. Slow and passionate. He isn’t playful or eager. All of his attention is on you and the rest of the world just fades away.

You wondered how Simon kisses.

John’s hands were messing with the bottom of your sleep shorts. They crept up slowly, giving your bottom a gentle squeeze causing you to gasp. He chuckled against you, his tongue taking advantage.

Maybe he was a little playful.

You had to get him back. You thought back to the little trick Kyle showed you. Your hands bunched around his lower back, and you rolled your hips against his. He cursed against you, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

“Careful what you wish for, honey” he warned, biting at your neck. You whined, tilting your head back even further. The subtle act of submission making his head reel. He kissed and bit his way around your neck until he made it near your collarbone. You became breathless at the knowledge of what he was doing. He was trying to find the best place to mark you. He could tell he found it when you nearly moaned. Just above your collarbone right in the junction of your neck. “That where you want it, pretty girl?” he murmured. You nodded your head rapidly.

“Now, please Alpha,” you begged. If he was a weaker man he would've given in. Your shaky voice, heated skin and needy scent in the air were all suffocating his senses. You're lucky he's had so much training or else you would be howling in pain right now.

“No, pretty,” he soothed, placing another kiss against the spot- a promise that he would be back. “Can't do it now, it'll hurt,” he reminded

“You marked Kyle and Johnny,” you reminded. Betas couldn't have heats or ruts, so when they were marked it was searing.

“They were under anesthetics,” he shot back. Even you couldn't argue with that. The bathroom door opened.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted waving the air in front of his face. You giggled, cuddling your way into John’s chest again.

“Simon took me on a date today,” you whispered to John. He raised his eyebrows, playing along.

“Must've been a different one,” he smirked, looking up at the brooding alpha.

“No, it was this one. He was a perfect gentleman. He opened the door for me, he let me hold his arm, he paid for my lunch and he even bought me new shoes,” you grinned, looking back at the flushed Simon.

“Sounds like a great bloke. Should call him back,” Simon replied, getting under the covers. You and John chuckled, as he shut the lamp on the bedside table off.

“He is great,” you whispered absentmindedly, a yawn escaping you. “I do appreciate the two of you, you know. There aren't a lot of alphas that would be as patient and forgiving as the two of you,” you thanked. John’s chest rumbled at the sentiment.

“Of course, honey,” John rumbled. Simon stayed silent. He didn't quite feel he deserved such praise. He had made too many mistakes. He jumped as a cold hand rested against his bicep. You could be sneaky when you wanted to. You made no move to pull him closer or grab another part of him. He sighed grabbing your hand in his, clamping your hand within his own, resting it against the bed.

The sound of your purrs lulled him to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of groggy groans and chuckles. You could feel yourself moving until your face was pressed against a bare chest. Cinnamon.

“Mac,” you groaned. You felt someone else’s smile against your shoulder and the tickle of Johnny’s scruff against your cheek. You opened your eyes, pulling away from Johnny.

“Good morning, peaches,” he purred all too happy for this early in the morning. Your face pulled into a frown making him and John chuckle from their spot. He pressed a kiss against your lips as you sat up, your legs on either side of his hip. He groaned, his hand instantly finding your hips. You were in the middle, Johnny resting against John. Kyle was back to back with Simon, who looked to still be asleep. You yawned rubbing at your eyes.

“We were thinking we could all go to breakfast,” Kyle spoke, nudging the alpha next to him awake. One thing you learned about the boys is that none of them were into cooking. John seemed to be decent at it- well at least he was good at cooking steaks. Kyle survived off of cereal and Johnny could kill a box of granola bars in a day.

“French toast,” you sighed happily, flopping back down onto the Scot. While the plans had been made no one made an effort to move. It was all too comfortable. Too warm. You purred, causing almost all of them to follow suit. Simon clenched his jaw, swallowing back the rumble in his chest.

You giggled, Johnny's chest vibrating against your skin.

“I'll fall back asleep if I stay here,” Kyle yawned, maneuvering his way out the bed. Simon tumbled out of it too, his arms stretching above his head. His tank top did nothing to hide his flexing muscles. Johnny pulled away, regretfully, heading back down the hall to his room. The chill in the air nipped at you, causing you to cuddle your way back against John.

“We’re going to get in trouble if we don't start getting ready,” he hummed gently, his hand running down your back.

“I’m getting up,” you assured, making no move to do so. He patted your bottom, sitting up with you still in his arms.

“French toast,” he reminded, pulling you to your feet. You perked up.

“John?”

“Yes, love.”

“When we get back can I talk to you about something?” you questioned. You regretted it as soon as you watched his face turn. You hated it when people did that. Just say what you are thinking.

“Tell me now, love. I’ll go with you to the backyard,” he said, watching as you grabbed the half-asleep puppy out of the bed Johnny had made her.

“Alright,” you agreed, treading down the hallway. He grabbed a cigar on the way, making sure to sit downwind from you so you would breathe it in.

“It's about my heat,” you started. “I want you to help me through it,” you flushed heavily, your face burning so hot the nip in the air couldn't cool it. “I don't know if I'm ready for everyone to help though,” you drew out. He chuckled next to you causing your head to shoot up. God, you have embarrassed yourself haven't you?

“Sorry, honey,” he apologized quickly. “That would be like throwin’ a lamb to the wolves. Wouldn't expect you to do all that,” he assured, making your shoulders relax. His hand reached out his fingers brushing against your cheek. “It would be my honor to help you, sweetheart,” he whispered, making you burn brighter.

“That’s a stretch,” you chuckled. Honor? Surely he had done much more honorable things than take your virginity.

“It's not. It means you trust me. That's all I want, love,” he smiled reassuringly in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Thanks, John,” you pressed a kiss against his cheek, collecting the curious pup off the grass.

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 22 will be in two days and I’m going to warn you now it WILL have heavy smut……hopefully none of you are against that! See you then 🧡

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killishin · 2 months ago

Text

— ♡ let's rest.

pairing: clark kent x reader

category: fluff

content warning: not nsfw but there is a makeout session. not proofread.

a/n: first time writing clark, hope i didn't mess up. can't wait for david corenswet superman :)). enjoy everyone :D

dividers by @cafekitsune

the ring of the bell roused you from your nap, wearily opening your eyes as you got up from the couch on stumbling legs. truly all you wanted was a tiny nap, work went overtime and your eyes were just so heavy and tired.

and your mind was still a mush as you padded your way across the hall, grimacing at the knocks even though they were very soft, but they had woken you up. in your mind it hadn't even been that long, in your mind that is.

so when you see Clark on the other side of the door through the little peephole, your mind takes a second. why is he there....

oh shit.

your eyes widened as you slapped a hand on your mouth, as if to contain that embarrassed gasp. a date, you were supposed to go on a date with him. you silently groan to yourself, heat creeping up your cheeks as you wonder just how the hell are you supposed to face him.

you're still in your work clothes, all crumpled and askew and you don't even look at the mess of your hair.

well looks like you have no choice but to face the shame, you just hope it doesn't let him down so much that he backs off. you've spent way too much time crushing on him to let it all go to drain.

taking a deep breath, you pat down your hair and clothes, making yourself as presentable as it was possible before opening the door. there he stood, all adorable and nervous, his blue eyes widening and not in a horrified way— instead it was filled with warmth, even appreciation maybe.

"im really sorry—"

"im sorry—"

both of you paused, you furrowed your brows and tilted your head a bit, "clark you don't need to apologise for anything. its me who took too long of a nap." you catch the dial of his watch and mentally curse at the time. a simple thirty minutes nap had somehow turned to more than two damn hours.

he shook his head, his soft black curls moving with him in a way that made him even more boyishly cute. "i should have known you were tired from work— you had that scoop you were working on. i shouldn't have suggested a date on a friday."

your heart warmed at how even now he doesn't seem the least bit deterred by your state, moreover he's apologising. you breathed out a soft laugh as you rubbed your face.

"you're such a gentleman." and despite the blush that immediately coated his cheeks, he played it off with a smirk, "I'll leave you to get back to your nap then."

you groaned softly and shook your head, grabbing his forearm on instinct as you gently gave him a tug towards your apartment. "if uh— well if you don't mind waiting, i can get ready and we can still go?" you suggested hesitantly, your eyes peering up at him.

your touch alone shook the poor man so bad, he stilled as if his brain just shut down, his muscles flexing beneath your hand out of pure instinct. "yeah. no yeah sure— of course." he said, giving you a sheepish smile before holding the bouquet towards you, "they're getting heavy in my hands."

you huffed out a small chuckle as you took the bouquet and walked in, leaving the door open so he can step in. "you really didn't have to."

"but i wanted to." he said pointedly with an amused smile and you shook your head, "uh so you want anything? water or tea- coffee? i have beer too if you want— i think.." you muttered as you ducked your head and hurried to the kitchen, suddenly self conscious.

the image of him in your apartment, made everything seem much... smaller, and thats understandable given his insane height. though you were grateful the rest of your apartment wasn't as much of a mess as your room.

"no im fine. don't worry." he reassured as he cleared his throat, looking around not so subtly, as if his eyes were absorbing all little details to every part of his brain.

"alright. I'll— i won't take much time, i promise." you swore with an apologetic smile before rushing in your room and closing the door.

it took you long, sadly, but you really couldn't help but fret and mess up while hurrying. you had to pause to take a deep breath and not lose your shit, cus you ruined your liner. but he stayed patient nonetheless, not much rustling around. you felt bad for making him wait for so long but then buried it, its better to focus on making the night better than beating yourself up.

you rushed out with a nonchalant yet apologetic smile, clutching your purse between your arm and side while hastily putting on earrings. "im done im done!" you were pretending to be calm, and cool while internally you merely hoped even for a sliver of that blush on his cheeks in response to your attire.

"hey there's no hurry—" he paused as he turned around, his lips freezing momentarily before he gulped. the tip of his ears had reddened as he stepped forward, gently pushing your hand away and putting on your earrings for you.

his eyes seemed focused on your ear, yet you weren't unaware to how intense they looked, how his fingers twitched to touch— and they did, much against his restraint, his index brushed against the side of your neck. tracing down, so agonisingly slow that it left goosebumps in its wake, till it reached the juncture between your collarbone and neck.

"you look uh—" he cleared his throat as he stepped back, looking slightly jolted as he forced out a smile that looked tight for some reason, "..absolutely gorgeous." he sighed out with a smile, as if resigning himself to you.

"that– shit you really know how to make someone blush huh." you huffed out, jokingly, to breathe through the tension that was suddenly between you two, "but thank you." you smiled as you pushed a strand behind your ears, skin still tingling from his touch.

"let's go." you said as you took your purse in your hand and walked past him, his eyes following you. but he didn't move even as you got your keys.

"clark?" you called out softly, brows furrowing, and his brows raised a bit , as if not yet fully out of whatever trance he is trapped in his mind. "hm?"

"i said lets go?" you drawled out more slowly, "you okay?"

he took a deep breath slowly as he nodded before walking towards you. he gently grabbed your shoulder before turning you around, your eyes widening while your heart flipped. what is he—

"you didn't zip it all the way." he murmured quietly, and you realised how close he was, his breath brushing your ear in a way that made warmth pool in your stomach.

"oh."

you were sure you did though, still you felt his fingers glide across your skin as he pulled the zip up. and even after it was done, he didn't pull away, his hands glued to your back and shoulder. you could feel the tension sizzling in the air, you knew what you wanted, what he wanted— even without having to look at him.

"weren't you tired from work?" he hummed out, sounding a bit lost and absentminded. it was a shock how such an innocent voice could sound like... that. "we can have a date here. watch a movie or cook or... or whatever you want." the suggestion wasn't supposed to come out as suggestive as it did. and he couldn't find it in himself to care.

with a gulp you turned around, your eyes fliting from his to the collars of his shirt and idly fixed them— they needed no fixing. you couldn't bear the weight of his stare, the want in his eyes, the burn in it— it mirrored your own, if not more intense.

"i think I'd like that more." you whispered and his hands automatically snaked around your waist.

"yeah?" he hummed teasingly, and that boyish charm was somehow replaced by the this pleased look, so amused at how immediately you agreed. "wanna rest more?"

your eyes narrowed playfully as your hand rested flat on his chest, while the other caressed the side of his neck— just like he did, "i don't think rest is what you have in mind, mr. kent."

"oh i meant after what i had in mind."

and in a second he was on you, your back pushed against the wall while one of his hand was braced beside your head and the other gripped your waist tight. his lips clashed against yours fervently, needy and hungry— yet not so much in a hurry. he wanted to savour it, savour you. take his sweet time.

"if i had known we would end up like this i wouldn't have bothered taking so much time." you huffed out a breathy laugh, which immediately turned into a gasp as he showered kisses on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot.

"and missed the chance to see you get dressed up for me?" he pulled away, only for a second to flash you a smirk before his hands hooked under your thighs and lifted you up. "not a fucking chance."

lets say you were wayyy too spent later on to even lift a finger, much less watch a movie or do anything. him on the other hand immediately went to cook you something real nice, cus it does smell nice.

"filling me up again for more hm?" you teased jokingly but he just looked at you with an innocent smile.

"of course."

"...."

"clark i can barely walk—"

reblogs are much appreciated! :D

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x reader #superman x you #superman x y/n #clark kent fluff #clark kent fic #superman fic #superman fanfiction

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nightscythe · 10 days ago

Text

tomorrow, then

→ magnus x afab!reader (implied but not described in detail) → 6.6k, 18+ mdni, hj and semi bj with mentions of other activities, sub magnus and dom reader → pre-heresy, magnus is on a journey to self-discovery after learning what his brothers get up to, he's also anxious and you're cute n kind to him

Your voice creeps in past his congratulatory thoughts. "Sorry, my Lord… service you?"

His heart feels like it’s in his mouth.

A string of curses meet him.

"I do apologise, my Lord." You bow your head slightly, and Magnus' heart sinks back into the depths of his chest as he prepares for his rejection. "Have I misunderstood what you mean by… servicing?"

Magnus doesn't answer quickly enough.

"Does my Lord mean… the service that one would go to a courtesan for?"

He clears his throat, avoiding your eyes. "Well, it… Yes. Yes."

You hum.

His heart thumps.

Magnus would have never let on once the true depths of his depravity. Not when he had an image to uphold. Especially not when some of his brothers already saw him as an outsider, someone who didn’t belong.

He recalled the time Leman drunkenly explained what he and his wolves did with the natives of Fenris who were willing participants. He’d frowned at the barbarity apparent in his actions and tried to pay attention to another conversation. Still, it seemed to be a hot topic of discussion on the rare occasion when so many of the Primarchs were together.

Horus has described in depth the actions of a pretty serf on the Vengeful Spirit, how they’d captured the heart of one of his coldest sons, and it intrigued him thoroughly. Sanguinius had even mentioned the pleasurable welcome back to Terra he had received as a gift from one of his admirers. Magnus could only shift in his seat at the time.

Ignoring feelings was easy for him. He had repressed it for so long that he no longer looked at another person and saw their beauty; instead, he considered their value and usefulness to him and his father’s cause.

Unfortunately, it was just repression, and that conversation at the time had undone years of careful training in his mind, re-weaving the binds of sexual appetite within him.

He’d returned to his private chamber with his cock hard that evening, dripping with pre as his mental fortitude broke completely. He stared at the ceiling for hours, recited the most boring parts of history, and conjured anything unrelated to him and his needs in his mind in an effort to stop it.

Unfortunately, for that night and many others going forward, will was too strong. The only relief he ever got was his own hand or a sculpted pillow that he'd stared at in complete regret afterwards. Even sorcery couldn't help him here.

Weeks it lasted, the quiet command for everyone to leave him, even Ahzek had grown curious of why Magnus needed so much time completely on his own. Excuses were given and curiosity was somewhat vanquished; frustrations directed at how unsatisfying his experiences were compared to what his brother's spoke of grew.

They'd have never ended without necessary intervention.

Magnus had settled on an older-looking tome nestled somewhere in the back of his old collection. His mind felt tired, scattered between all of his desires that seemed ever further apart in recent days. He skimmed the words written in a dull ink, stopping to reread words when he felt his mind slipping.

Throne, he wanted to feel the softest of hands around him, have a new warmth surrounding his burning tip, know the sounds he could make someone make as his fingers wrapped in their hair and he buried their face in the trimmed hairs of his crotch until they swallowed every drop of his come with their eyes never leaving his.

Concentration wasn't finding him, not when he had an ache at the bottom of his stomach begging to be fixed. Almost like a demon within, fighting for just the smallest taste; Magnus was concerned that if he gave in to his temptations, he'd fall further and never recover. This wasn't about being virtuous, this was about his own sanity. Magnus had a proclivity to invest far too much emotion into anything.

More words pass, and his mind wanders again.

His hands gripping the pressed sheet beneath him so tightly he'd ripped it, breath evading him as he rocked his hips into the air, fucking absolutely nothing yet coming so hard with his lips covered in the sweetest of nectars and their legs holding him down.

Magnus' eyes raise from the book. The thought alone has his cock growing beneath his robes. He lets the pages slip from his fingers as he lets the scene play out in his head. Something new, unexpected, submissive.

His thighs clench. He can picture it so clearly. Slipping his tongue inside, hands grasping thighs, his moans lost entirely to all but vibrations to feel a release all down to him. He shudders. Was it so much to want to be told how well he had done and rewarded for it, too? His brothers never spoke of it, no one spoke of anything like it.

The book is closed, unsurprisingly, with a hard thud. Though he gently places it down on the table behind him, the door doesn't get such nice treatment; he slams it a little too hard for anyone nearby to not poke their head out and see what the primarch has been agitated by this time.

All they would have seen was his figure moving unnervingly fast down the hallways.

In search of something in particular?

Always.

The sweet-looking angel who seemingly followed Ahzek around everywhere recently.

A little smile that slipped through when Ahzek was talking, Magnus recalled it perfectly, with hands that shook from being in the vicinity of someone that important, and eyes that never actually tried to meet another’s.

Magnus had pushed the memory from the depths of his mind before. Told himself it was a lack of contact with someone who captured his desires in appearance alone, or that he mistook them for something due to the lasting effects of whatever sorcery he had practised that day, or… something rational.

Because the last time he’d made himself come in agonising silence, his mind had started to form into the same shaking, delicate hand right before him.

He panicked, woke himself from whatever lust-induced daze he’d fallen into, and carried on with his private session like it was a task made just to get him through the day. A mistake, he now realised.

His own justification was that if his brothers were indulging in these activities, if Sanguinius especially had partaken in something to fulfil a deep-seated fantasy, then it must be normal. Better yet, it must be a good thing. Something he should be partaking in and, more than anything, enjoying.

The thought lingers in his mind as he pushes the large door open with a hefty swing. He clenches his jaw as the doors thump against the walls, gathering far more attention than he had originally wanted. Of course, everyone in the room would drop to serve him the second they realised it wasn't someone in over their head storming about the sacred walls, especially feeling his presence as he neared. Not that he noticed, his focus was towards the back of the room anyway.

On those modest, coruscating eyes that were haunting his thoughts every single minute that passed without having them serving only him. Spotted between the shelves, wide and somewhat fearful, unable to look away and bow like they were meant to for someone of his standing. Not that he had cared.

He's not sure what's said in the strides he takes to the back of the room. The room was emptied by the time he regained his senses, lost in a silently given command to not move in a far more authoritative voice than he meant for it to be.

You wouldn't have moved anyway.

You would have stayed put without even so much as breathing as the Primarch of the Fifteenth approached you with his skin ablaze and gaze refusing to move to anything else. In truth, he felt bad for making you look like you were torn between throwing up, crying, or dropping to your knees and apologising for whatever you had done to make him personally find you.

Nothing to apologise for, you'd soon find out, because you'd never actually done anything.

And now Magnus was here before you, he had no idea what to actually say.

"I sincerely apologise for this interruption," Magnus starts, hoping it may quell some of your obvious worry. It does little in aid, much to his annoyance. "My sons have spoken highly of you, and I wished to thank you personally."

It was an obvious lie on both parts. He tries to offer a smile, but you still look like you may combust at any given moment. He decides a hand on your shoulder would probably not help, so instead he takes a step back to alleviate something.

"I have..." Magnus stops himself, looking down to the ground and sucking in a breath to force one more small opportunity to back out. He doesn't take it. He's too close; painfully hard. If you could take your eyes away, you'd probably have noticed. "...a request to make of you."

Your thoughts must catch up to you a few seconds later when you bow your head, nodding repeatedly. "Of course, my Lord."

"Let me take you somewhere private," Magnus tells you. He steps away with the expectation you'll follow. Thankfully, you can't feel how his cheeks burn or his mind tells him to lock himself away and never speak to another being again. He can feel how your heart races to far over 120 beats per minute, though, and it makes him feel worse. He turns back to you over his shoulder. "This is so I can explain. I will, of course, need you to agree to the task that I am offering. It's nothing too much, but you... You must be agreeable."

If he could take back the past 10 minutes, he would, but his mastery hasn’t yet allowed him proficiency in chronomancy.

He takes you to a quiet room. Not his private chamber, or personal study, or anything that one would usually have found him in. Through fear of being caught, perhaps, but equally through his concern for your wellbeing upon seeing so much of him so quickly. He would ease you in gently.

The room, far away from anywhere a reasonable person would be at this hour, is one he recalled being mentioned as needing refurbishing and to be remodelled at some point in the near future. As such, the old leather armchairs and a love seat remained from the scholars who once used this room.

He invites you to sit in one of the armchairs, waiting for you to be seated before taking his place on the love seat. His shame, unfortunately, returned on meeting your eyes once more.

"I apologise for asking you this," he starts, intending to force the words out before you could speak again. Unfortunately, again, he looks up from the floor too quickly, and your doe-like eyes, scared to displease him, stop him one more time. "I… believe that…"

"There is no need to apologise, my Lord," you tell him, "please do not apologise."

You haven't heard what he has to say yet.

"Thank you." Magnus leans forward, hands clasped together, forehead and cheeks starting to feel unusually warm. He clears his throat before continuing. "You must understand, this is not a usual request, but I do not know of anyone else I could ask."

He's making this far worse by talking.

He waits for your nod, which comes with a slight furrow of your brows. He tries his very best not to stumble over his own words again. "I would very much like for you to… service me."

Adequate, he thinks, it was how Fulgrim had phrased it one time when they were discussing his recent activities.

Your voice creeps in past his congratulatory thoughts. "Sorry, my Lord… service you?"

His heart feels like it’s in his mouth.

A string of curses meet him.

"Yes," he answers, a polite smile gracing the curves of his lips. He'd feign his confidence, which usually worked. "I will ensure you are compensated if you agree and… and please be sure it will be no reflection onto you if you decline because I do understand the implications this can bring and that being in my presence may cause you more harm than initially anticipated so please do not think you must accept, so I… I understand entirely if you decline."

Magnus finishes his string of words with a quick inhale and a sheepish smile. It was sometimes a gift to have skin like his. Much easier to hide his true feelings. Especially when you look back at him with parted lips and no evident answer.

Magnus knows he needs to shut up sometimes, but he never can.

"But… But I did hope you would accept," he adds, a poorly disguised truth in his eyes, "I… uhm… wanted you, specifically."

You still haven't moved. Was it that obvious it was far more than just hope?

Magnus doesn't answer quickly enough.

"Does my Lord mean… the service that one would go to a courtesan for?"

He clears his throat, avoiding your eyes. "Well, it… Yes. Yes."

You hum.

His heart thumps.

When you look back at him, half of him wants to reverse time to prevent this whole conversation from ever occurring, and the other half wants to go back in time to kill his brothers before they ever started him on this depraved path of self-fulfilment and stupidity.

Most of him felt similar to the very human feeling of wanting to throw up.

His gaze flickers between you and the floor. He can feel your mind processing everything, ignoring it felt impossible, until it seemed to stop. He looks back at you, stopping to wait for your answer.

"Of course, my Lord," you answer, "I am… agreeable."

Magnus hums. "You do not just give me the answer I wish to hear?"

"No, my Lord," you answer, simply.

"You want to partake in this?"

"Yes, my Lord."

“You are sure?” He confirms a final time. If he hadn’t sounded timorous before, he did now. “I promise you it will not affect your standing or negatively impact you if you decline. Truly. I swear it on all that is sacred to me.”

Magnus pauses again to watch, eager to catch a hint of hesitation laced in your expression. Somewhere within his conversations, he had heard of others being taken advantage of, and he wanted to be sure that was not the case here. In fact, he recalled how a story had passed on, gossip if you will, of how some of the Eighth treated their serfs and remembrancers. The truth behind it was unknown, but knowing his brother’s mediocre handling of his legion, could it have been so untrue?

He digresses.

“I want to,” you repeat to him, nodding as you shift forward slightly in your seat. Magnus studies you like the world depended on it; actions misunderstood as you slouch back slightly and struggle to look near him again. “I… I would like to… My Lord."

He’s not sure why he laughs, but your timid muttering of my Lord seemed ironic given what he was about to ask of you. “Please do not call me that.”

“Then what shall I call you?” You ask, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth inside your mouth.

Throne, your lips looked so soft, he could practically feel your warm mouth around his aching cock already. His tip nestled in against the back of your mouth as you choked around him and dragged your soft hands over his thighs and begged him for more. Then he’d feel how warm you truly were, he’d ease you open with one finger, no, no, two fingers slowly, then a third so you were ready for him to feel you throb around his cock and beg him for more, and then he could turn over and let you bounce on his cock and tell him to be a good boy and beg you to let him come until…

Reality strikes him with a shiver down his spine. You’re still watching him intently, like he was meant to answer. Would you even fit all of him inside you? You must be able to if his brothers were doing this. Perhaps he would need to amend his body in a different way so you could… Oh, he was meant to be answering you. Where was he? What to call him…

“Magnus,” he tells you. He’s unsure it’s the right response, and it carries very hard in his voice. He tries to laugh it off. “You cannot call me Lord when you’re…”

He stops himself.

You stare blankly at him.

He can’t finish his sentence.

When you’re what, Magnus?

“When you’re…” his mouth felt incredibly dry as he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. He knows exactly what he wants from you, but saying it feels wrong. Like a secret he was never meant to share, or a hidden exploit in his father’s greatest creation. “Well, when we are to have a relationship of this sort, I mean.”

You nod, still uneasy.

Magnus’ mind doesn’t seem to rest. “When I say relationship, I mean the dynamic between us, of course. Because you will be more than others who hold the same rank as you, and we would not see each other as one typically would. You will come to know me in a far different way than others, and I suppose that means I will know you in a different way, too. A better way. More personal.”

It’s about then he realises he didn’t even ask your name.

He could ask, or he could find out at some point and avoid the awkwardness of asking for the name of someone he had asked to service him. Like he’s a car. Or a Primarch so desperately in need of release he can’t even get a whole sentence out coherently anymore.

“I look forward to it, my…” You stop yourself as Magnus’ attention diverts back to you. A sheepish smile appears as you push your hair back behind your ear. “…Magnus.”

He grins at you. “Perfect! Formal introductions over then, shall we begin?”

Judging by the look on your face, you were not expecting that.

“No point delaying what we both want,” Magnus tells you, “unless of course you have changed your mind, which is fine, if you were unsure.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. But I would just query… your expectations?”

“Oh.” Magnus hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Anything. Everything.”

“Everything?”

Magnus hums. “I would like to experience every sexual pleasure that exists in this world. I see it as important to understanding myself and the human kind better, and no doubt I can gain much knowledge from seeing the depths of what humans like, and don’t like, and what may be far out of the bounds for what’s normal.”

He surprises himself with how much he can just make up these days.

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but… would you not just wish to experience something for your own enjoyment?” you ask.

“Well,” Magnus stops himself from talking this time. Did he meet a kindred spirit? You knew his thoughts before he did. Or, his humanity before he did. “Yes. I would. You are right.”

You smile, gently, and shift forward on your seat. Magnus’ gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, to your hands that he’d thought about before. He wasn’t trying to hide it, either. “What would bring you enjoyment now?”

“I hadn’t considered,” Magnus answers. More of a timely untruth to hide his enthusiasm. He brings his hand to his chin like he was considering, but he can already feel your doubt. You dip your head down as he hears the slightest chuckle. He's that obvious? Why should he be surprised. "What I believe would bring me enjoyment… What I know would bring me enjoyment is for you to make me, well, there is no gentler way to put this, is there. For you to make me, ahem, come."

You hum in response. "I had assumed. That is what one usually wishes to achieve."

"Of course." Magnus laughs softly, feeling the heat in his cheeks again. He looks away for a moment, as if conjuring the words from a conversation he'd had in the past once again. None make themselves known; he's on his own this time. He wasn't yet prepared to say exactly what he had been thinking about, either. "May I ask what you would suggest?"

It may have seemed like he had given you all the power in the universe for just a moment.

"My suggestion?" you repeat. He nods, encouragingly. "I suppose I would suggest… starting slow?"

Magnus nods. "Your hands?"

"My hands," you confirm, "just my hands?"

He stops himself from outright saying yes as the syllables reach his tongue. "Unless you think I should have more."

You nod once.

"What I mean is," Magnus tries to speak, stopping as he feels his chest thumping, "if I deserve more."

A perfect disguise for his tendencies. He must applaud himself later. He can see the smile creep onto your lips, which you try to disguise behind your fingers as you rub your cheek meaninglessly. "I understand."

"Good." Magnus lets his back relax a little, trying to make it feel less formal. "Shall we start?"

If ever there was a reason to throw him into the depths of the galaxy, this was it.

You're shy at first, not moving until whatever thoughts had processed in your mind finally start to fade. You peek at Magnus once, maybe a few more times through your lashes, he'd never miss that, before lowering yourself gently to your knees right between his own.

One of your hands reaches for his thigh. Magnus' gaze becomes even more intense as he follows your movements with such fervour that he may as well be committing even your breaths to memory. You're not shaking, you don't seem worried, but Magnus can feel your hesitation. Naturally occurring, he deciphers, because who wouldn't be terrified of someone like him being right there.

"You need to…"

Magnus drags himself back to you, brows raised slightly. He realises you're gesturing to his robes and feels stupid for not thinking of that before. "Right, of course."

He could try to look less innocent, really.

The robes of white and gold, concealing how desperate he was to feel your touch just beneath the thick sheets of material, are adjusted to come up to his waist, undergarments stripped away until his bare flesh remains.

It was never that Magnus was conscious of the body he sculpted, but under your eyes, it didn’t feel good enough; until he realised you were staring for just a little too long, captivated by his body in the ways that many had before. He vividly could recall a conversation where Fulgrim had explained that he was questioned about what primarchs kept beneath their clothes. Perhaps you were exploring those same thoughts.

"Please, continue," he tells you, breaking the silence and whatever train of thought you were holding. Not to push you, but he was already leaking from head of his cock. He was sure the inside of his garments had been soiled too. He shouldn't have carried on talking. "Please."

Whilst he curses himself for appearing so desperate, he's not sure if you notice it. You shuffle forward on your knees, prying his thighs apart slowly, until you're perched between in perfect view of the cock that was aching for you. To be touched, rather.

"You should put your head back," you tell him, voice soft against the silence that still looms, "just, relax."

Impossible for him.

But he does try.

He lies back, chest muscles still tight, his sight trained directly on you, regardless of where he is. He wanted to look when you first touched him, when he saw those hands wrap around him and make the very first movements. It's a marvel to him as he watches you look between your hands and his groin, then briefly around the room around you, then spit into the palm of your hand. He doesn’t understand at first, but then he feels it.

A fragile coldness to soothe his throbbing length. He gasps at the first touch, and though you pause in fear at the sound he makes, he urges you to carry on with a pained nod. "Please carry on."

You follow his instruction. One hand, not big enough to wrap around him completely, nor big enough to engulf his whole length, but enough to move one from the bottom to the top of his shaft. He shouldn't moan when he feels the pressure on his head, but he can't help it. It's involuntary, it's feral.

He'd never be able to go back to doing this on his own, if he closes his eyes, he doesn't know what's going to happen next and, throne, it feels like heaven wrapped into a tiny bite-sized piece, how is he going to survive ever having more than just your hand?

He lets his eyes fall shut at some point, lost in your movements, falling into the rhythm of your strokes and drinking in every sense like it was the sweetest nectar.

How is he going to survive you?

He takes a glance at you. He’d never considered a human to be beautiful before, not given the divinity he sat within, but you were exactly that. His head is leaning against the back of the loveseat, hair damp with sweat and stuck to him in the least comfortable of ways, yet he looks at you like you’d somehow become the answer to anything and everything he ever wanted.

His eyes close again when he meets your gaze. You slow down your pace, as if you were trying to check he was okay or just see what he was doing. Again, it's involuntary how his body responds, craving so much more, wanting to feel everything.

He rocks his hips once, then a second time, craving any more of your touch that he could bear. When he feels your fingertips on his hip, airy to the touch yet sinking straight to his bone, he whines.

“Be still,” you tell him, voice quiet yet commanding. He nods unceremoniously, eyes squeezed together as he steadies himself and tries so hard not to move again, even if his body willed him to fuck those pretty hands and give into desire. His efforts were never made in vain. “Good. Stay there. Be good for me.”

Oh, why did you have to say that and have him remember how badly he wanted to hear those words over and over until he knew nothing other than how to behave for you, only for you-

“You want to be good?” You question, this time not a tease. It was a discovery with an edge of destiny. “For me?”

Magnus’ whine confirms anything you needed to know.

“Oh.” He can hear, feel, the smirk that registers with your words. He feels your weight over his groin, your strokes slower than before, as you lean over him, still kneeling before him. “You want me to tell you what a good boy you’ve been for me?”

His intuition is truly blessed. You were everything and anything he ever wanted. How could you have known what he wanted to hear otherwise?

“Yes,” he gasps, voice raspy, hips controlled. His eyes are wide when he finally has the strength to look at you again, glassy and clouded with need. “I want to be… your good boy.”

His reward is feeling his cock in your mouth again. Still too big to be taken entirely, but enough for him to feel the velvet of your throat swallowing around him, coaxing him to give in.

It was never going to take long. A man deprived of feeling from another for his entire life never would.

He can feel the throbbing down right down to his balls, his cock inexplicably, impossibly harder beneath your touch as the pressure builds somewhere between his spine and his stomach in a way he hasn’t yet known how to describe. He’d stay here for a lifetime. The cusp of what he wanted, knowing it was so close, but still enjoying every moment.

Was it too late to ask for that?

Inexplicably, yes.

His hands shake. His thoughts disperse. He questions the very reality itself.

"Are you going to come for me?" you ask, honied words dripping with a request for him to do exactly that. "You don't need permission."

Your mouth isn't around him. It's just your hand, sliding up and down in the perfect rhythm, the bend in your thumb curling around him at just the right angle, your other hand now joining to stroke the rest of his cock that didn't fit in just one.

He wouldn't have been able to wait for permission anyway. His mind shuts down completely.

He hears your soft chuckle fill the space between you. "Show me how good you are."

No.

He can barely register it happening before he realises. He feels a pulsating in his core, then in his cock. Too quick for him to stop or do anything about. Not yet. No. He knew the second he was finished, this was over. For now, perhaps, but he never wanted it to end. No, no…

The way he whines is entirely feral, gasping and practically hissing, arching his back further into your touch. One pulse turns to a burn, then into a rope of thick, warm come leaving him. Then another, and another, and oh throne, another few more.

The white hot bliss stays for a moment. Just long enough for him to consider narrowing his eyes at you and having you choke on him next time without mercy. Better yet, play out that scene where he’s got you bent over his desk sliding his cock in and out of you with such ease because you’re so, so wet and he’s prepared you so well with his hands and his mouth and whatever he could use as a lubricant to make it enjoyable for you too, so he can hear you moan for him as well.

He could dream.

Reality hits as it fades. Magnus blinks a few times, quickly, breaths slowing again. He peers down at you, dry lips gapped as though he wanted to say something, but he never speaks. He just… admires. He looks dishevelled, a complete mess of a man who was meant to be near a god, completely undone by his own needs. He can feel the perfect form he created flickering beneath his lack of control, he can feel the judgment of his brothers laced into his actions, even if he tells himself it doesn’t matter.

You, on the other hand, look serene. Ideal. If you hadn’t accepted, this wouldn’t have happened and…

He wouldn’t have ever got to experience what it was like to have his cock stroked during, and after, he’d experienced the bliss of an orgasm at your fingertips.

He has to double-take, breathing heavily from his nose as he tries to contort his body enough to see what you’re doing, as if he didn’t already know, and why you were doing it. He reaches for your wrist, trying to hold you in place to stop the feeling of every pleasure centre exploding at once, yet never really actually holding you tight enough to bring you to a halt.

“What are you—ah,” Magnus’ words can’t be finished. It’s a forbidden pain, like he’s been seared by the light of an emerging star. “Stop. Please. I can’t…”

Your head tilts to the side like you’re challenging him. “You can’t what?”

“It feels…” his breathless pants make it hard to talk, “pain.”

You never falter.

"W-Wait," Magnus hisses, his hand grasping for yours. His grip around your wrist tightens as he feels your thumb run over the slit on his head, every muscle in his lower body tensing. He fights through a whine, a moan, to talk. "It, gods… it hurts."

Your hum in response isn't comforting. Not when you stroke your hand down again, grip just a touch tighter, then slide your hand up all the way. "Does it really hurt?"

He almost screams his response, but the feeling of your mouth sinking around his length, warm yet somehow bringing relief to the burning desire he felt in every nerve, stops him. He still grips your wrist but lets you stroke him beneath your lips.

His head is thrown back first. His eyes disappear somewhere into the back of his head. Everything feels like it's on fire, and you look like the very last ember that burns. His hips jolt upwards, voluntarily drawing a rhythm into your hand because you just weren't going quick enough, trying so hard to feel more of his cock fill your delicate little mouth.

"Shall I stop?" you ask him, somewhat of a tease with your voice vibrating against his sensitive nerves.

He can't help the moan that leaves his lips this time as you take his very tip into your mouth again. Never any further though. He despises how badly he wants to beg for more. “No. Throne, no.”

You hum around him again, spark reforging a feeling he hadn’t felt since the first time he ever tried to experience the pleasure humans did. Whatever you say, he doesn’t catch it; his vision was filled with a galaxy of stars, and his mind couldn’t register anything other than the lewd sounds of your hand rolling up and down his shaft in quicker succession.

A breathless gasp leaves his lips, hands grabbing at anything in their vicinity. His thighs are shaking, back arching, thoughts entirely absent for moments longer than they ever had been before. He tries, so very hard, to raise his head and look down to where you kneel before him, but you slide your fingers over one particularly sensitive spot, and he’s throwing it back again, some kind of mewl his only response.

You let his hips move this time. He holds your wrist loosely, keeping your hand in the same space as he uses whatever core strength he could muster to fuck your hand to the point of orgasm once more.

With you, it would never take long.

It stings as he feels his cock pulsing once more. He didn't think it was possible for it to feel so different. He's overstimulated, he's experiencing a deadly mix of pain and pleasure that's so cloying it might as well have already ruined him.

He doesn't even remember coming the second time; only opening his eyes to your maidenly figure nestled so perfectly with him.

Then the feeling of every bone in his body being hit with tiredness, and his skin feeling covered in stickiness and grime that he hated.

Once his breath had steadied, thoughts cleared, and thighs had stopped shaking, he finally sat forward once more. He was closer to you than anticipated, although he felt like he shrank away from you in fear of the awkwardness that could follow. You'd serviced him. What if that was it? He didn't want for that to be it. So, he talks, like that hadn't got him into this situation to begin with.

“I feel ashamed,” Magnus comments, openly observing his sweat and come covered thighs, a bitter taste in his mouth.

“For what reason?” You ask him in return. Only then does he catch the absence of regret in your eyes. He won’t assume, but… You didn’t seem ashamed. “You wished to enjoy yourself. Did you?”

Magnus frowns, just enough for you to notice. “Yes, very much so, but… with all this mess it had created, look at me.”

You don’t follow his gaze. “That usually happens, my Lord. It is normal.”

“Magnus," he corrects you. It seemed the barrier for formal titles had far been crossed. He spends too much time with his eyes lingering over you, raising his hand at your quiet apology when it’s given. Was it normal to enjoy the way you looked, hands covered in his come, a slight sheen over your skin and unkempt, once-tidy hair evidencing such an intimate act between you both? He leans forward without a plan, reaching for your upper arm, fingers ghosting your skin. "Let me help you."

You shake your hair. "Let me help you."

He's not given time to tell you otherwise; it was easier for you to scurry off from the floor with only the bow of your head left with him. He can hear the rush of water in an adjacent room, accompanied by what sounds like you cleaning your hands. In a state of wonder, his minds drift to another scenario.

It would be quite intriguing to see his come painted all over your body, his own decorated piece of art. Better yet, to see if dribbling out of you, just so he could fuck it right back into you. Though he was torn between whether he'd do it gently, hold your hands and kiss you sweetly, slow so he could feel every single movement, every time your body pulsed around him. Or, he could be rough, fast, hear you beg for mercy or for more, whatever you felt like you needed more.

In fact, he could ask you what you wanted. That way, when he delivered on everything you wanted, when he felt what it was like to have you a mess at his fingertips as well, he could hear you say how well he did again.

Your presence draws him back to reality. He clears his throat as you kneel down in front of him with a clean cloth, beginning to wipe away what he had been scowling at before.

"It really is normal," you tell him again, pausing for just a moment to look up at him. He nods, twice, like he does believe you. "Will you want to do this again?"

Magnus forgets to breathe.

Hadn't thought of that. His cock twitches, he hopes you don't notice.

"I apologise," you reply quickly, "that was too forward. I just meant..."

"I know. Please don't apologise."

Magnus is carefully piecing together an answer. He notes your intrigue, like you're hoping for something. For his own sake, he won't let himself believe it’s for anything more than repayment.

"I would like to," he returns, humming at his own answer. "Of course, that only applies if you would also like to."

You smile, nodding. "I would."

"Good. Because I must ensure that you are adequately repaid for your time with me today."

Your movements become softer as your brows pull together. "Repaid?"

"Not in the traditional sense, I suppose." Magnus' laugh fills the room. He hopes it will put you more at ease. Alongside speaking far too much, he also had the tendency to say the wrong thing, it seemed. "It would only be fair if I... Returned this favour. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Oh." Your voice seems raspy. "Yes. Yes, I would enjoy that very much."

Somehow, Magnus had won a great victory whilst seated in a love seat of a dusty, old room, naked from the waist down. He'd congratulate himself for that one later, it just proved he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Tomorrow, then." His regal smile never disappears, though if he really listened to his needs, he'd have asked you not to leave him from that point forward. There were no rules against it, but for your sake, he'd act like he wasn't obsessed with both you and how you made him feel, inside and out. "My private chambers will be more suited. I will find you around the same time."

"You do not need to find me, Magnus. I can come to you."

He shakes his head. "Let me find you. I appreciate the moment for us to talk."

"If you are sure," you reply. He holds your gaze for far too long. When you look away, the ends of your lip curl ever so slightly. He won’t admit the feeling at the pit of his stomach, not yet. "Tomorrow, then."

a/n: got a bit carried away with this one. i'd like to continue a little series of magnus exploring his sexual desires in this form, so expect more in the future!

#magnus x reader #magnus the red #x reader #wh40k fic #warhammer 30k #primarch x reader #thousand sons #lua.wrt

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isawritesshit · 1 year ago

Text

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

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"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

___________________________________________________________

Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

#isawritesshit #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #female reader #anime #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #arranged marriage #forced marriage #principal yaga #guys I did it

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reiderwriter · 2 years ago

Text

The Thought of You Leaves Me Weak 🎰

Chapter 2 of That's What You Get

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive.

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: Pushing through your hangovers, you and Spencer retrace your steps from the night before to see if your shotgun Vegas marriage is legal - and find out some extra personal things along the way.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, author has a pronounced disinterest in the reality of getting an annulment for a Vegas wedding.

A/N: We're here! Part two! We're still stuck in Vegas for now, but they'll be back to their new normal soon, and now they have a time limit~ Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented on and signed up for the series taglist from my first post, I hope you all enjoy part two just as much!! Let me know what you think in the comments or over an ask, I'll be replying all weekend :) Here's the taglist link for anyone else who wants to sign up!

Requests are open as well, and you can find some more of my work in my masterlist.

After the initial shock wore off, and the hangover was left to permeate a bit, you and Spencer remembered you were actually FBI agents and had the ability to do something about your predicament.

“I should probably head off to my own room now,” you said pulling yourself out of Spencer’s arms. “Freshen up a bit before we head out to see what’s going on.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He nodded, then continued. “You know our first stop should probably be the Marriage License Bureau of Las Vegas. If we are legally married, we’d have had to have obtained a marriage licence between 8am and 12am yesterday, they don’t open later than that.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You nodded to him, “Would they even have served us the marriage licence if we were as intoxicated as I think we were?”

“This is Vegas, Y/N. All we’d need is a valid form of ID and to be willing, and we’d have to have been carrying the ID to get into the bars.” You raked a hand through your hair. Of course you had to get married in a shotgun ceremony in the only state where it probably didn’t matter what your alcohol intake had been.

“Well, we were obviously both willing.” You say, gesturing to the bed, and then curse yourself inwardly as you see the downturned look on Reid’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right, I wouldn’t have handcuffed you without at least verbal consent.” He replied, pulling a shirt on finally.

“Right,” you let that revelation sit between the two of you, as he turns his back, continuing to get himself ready for the rest of the day. If you were honest with yourself, you’d have admitted to always having an attraction to your coworker, but nothing you’d solidly act on. Yeah, he was beautiful, and you’d enjoyed joining in the teasing everytime Morgan had called him a pretty boy, because he was. But you’d never let your thoughts drift to what he might be like in bed, and now you were regretting that because you had nothing to base your theories of the last night on except that you’d woken up in handcuffs.

Really, if someone had asked you the question about what you could possibly expect from Spencer Reid in the bedroom, the furthest you’d be able to imagine was some incredibly professional, missionary sex. If you thought a little harder, you’d remember that the man had once highlighted his distinct lack of “alpha-male” qualities on a case once, so, really, if anyone was going to be locked up in handcuffs, surely it would’ve been him.

You try to shake that mental picture from your head, but doing so just aggravates your headache, so you have to sit with the image of Spencer Reid tying you up and making you beg.

“You okay, Y/N? You look a bit pale,” he looks a little bit concerned for you when he finally turns back, and you can only imagine the look on your face if you’re eliciting that much concern.

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine, nothing’s wrong. Why are you asking?” you stutter out.

“Because you said you were going to shower five minutes ago, and you haven’t really moved all that much in that time.” You curse yourself again, and you force yourself out of your head.

“Oh! Yeah!” you move off towards the door, grabbing everything you’ve left in a trail to the door, retracing your steps from the night before. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in like twenty minutes?” You didn’t even wait for his reply before pushing the door open and sprinting to your room, not even caring that you hadn’t put your shoes on.

–X–

If you couldn’t be trusted to make simple choices when drunk, such as the choice to not be married to your coworker, you probably also couldn’t be trusted to make simple choices when hungover, such as a place to meet your now husband where the rest of your friends wouldn’t see you in your post-sex haze from the night before.

Which is how you found yourself cowering behind a plant in the lobby desperate to avoid being spotted by Agents Rossi and Hotchner who apparently were up and in suits for some godforsaken reason. You tried to get Reid on the phone, but he wasn’t picking up, and you had a flash of him asking you how to put his phone on silent mode from the night before hit you like a tonne of bricks.

“Shit, shit.” Nothing else useful came out of you though, so behind the plant you were waiting for them to approach the elevators so you could continue as planned. While you were in the bathroom, you’d finally noticed the blooming bruises running up the length of your neck, and you found yourself slightly impressed by Reid once again.

He’d managed to tie you up but still pay that much attention to you, and you were equal parts cursing him and desperately hoping the memories would come back to see just what other secrets he was hiding behind that unassuming frame. With the lack of contraception, you really couldn’t be sure that the two of you had had sex in the traditional sense, but you certainly seemed to have had some fun last night, and not being able to remember drove you insane.

Thankfully, the two agents made their way to the elevator without noticing you, and you let out a breath of relief as soon as the elevator dinged, ready to take them as far away from you as you needed. Unfortunately, once again, anytime fate dealt you one good hand, it followed it up with the worst ever, and as the elevator doors opened, there was Reid. You made a mental note to check your bank balance after this, sure that if you had ended up gambling with Reid, you’d most likely bankrupted yourself with this luck.

“Reid, good morning,” Hotch greeted him, and even from your unconventional perch, you could hear the panic in the younger man's voice as he began struggling for excuses to answer questions that hadn’t even been asked yet.

“Hotchner, Rossi, what are you doing here? Well I know what you’re doing here, you’re waiting for an elevator, and I know what you’re doing in the hotel because we’re all here in the hotel, but I mean what are you doing? In general?” It was almost as if he were asking himself that question at the end, trying to work out why the words were even leaving his mouth.

You couldn’t swoop in and save him without the others seeing your new necklace of hickeys and handprints, so you just had to watch him combust adorably in front of the two seasoned FBI Agents.

“Calm down, kid, don’t pull a muscle in that brain of yours, it’s a highly valuable FBI asset.” Rossi joked with him as they switched places, Rossi and Hotch going into the elevator and Reid slinking out.

“Dave and I just finished breakfast. I’m afraid you may have just missed it, Spencer, but there’s a buffet on the third floor that’s supposedly open all day.” Hotch said.

“Actually, I think food isn’t a great idea for me right now.”

“Oh, wild night, kid? No, wait, let me guess, you tracked down a Star Wars convention?”

“I’m more of a fan of Star Trek myself, you know the technology they appeared to have on screen in the show is really fascinating in that it’s-”

“Oh, how unfortunate, door’s closing. See you later, kid.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you watched the elevator climb up to the higher floors of the accommodation and left your perching spot.

“Spencer, over here.” You waved to him a little, and he turned to the sound of your voice, visually relaxing the moment he set his eyes on you.

“You don’t think they noticed I’m acting weird, right?”

“Reid, everytime you mention anything remotely pop-culture-y to Rossi he does his best to erase the conversation from his brain, okay? And Hotch looks like he hasn't slept in a decade. I’m sure they didn’t notice anything.”

“What? I thought Rossi loved our talks, he always says that I’m a riveting conversationalist.”

You just nodded along with him and patted his arm pitifully, leading him out of the lobby and into the waiting streets of Las Vegas, Nevada.

–X–

Twenty minutes later, you were sitting outside of the Marriage License Bureau, waiting to see if your fate was sealed.

“Okay, so what’s our strategy?” you asked, removing your seatbelt and moved to open your door, jumping out of the SUV you’d commandeered from the parking garage.

“Strategy? Why do we need a strategy?” Reid joined you quickly, exiting from the passenger side, satchel in hand.

“Well, I mean, what are we going to ask them, what are we going to do when we’ve found out if this is real or a hoax or not.”

“Y/N, I think you’re overthinking this. This is Nevada, I’m sure they’re used to any questions we might have.” You took a deep breath looking at the doors of the building and tried to rationalise your thoughts. You were going to be fine, it’s just a marriage, nothing too big.

Pushing the doors open, you were floored by the sheer amount of couples on the premises.

“Shit.” You’d cursed more in the last four hours than you had in the last year, almost beginning to worry that it was becoming a habit.

“Please take a number and wait for your turn to be called, our current waiting time is three and a half hours. If you leave the premises at any point, your place will be forfeited,” a bored looking worker with a small microphone called over the crowd as you entered.

“Hi, sorry, is there a help desk of some kind?” you approached and asked her, a sinking feeling growing in your gut. “We just need to see if our wedding licence is valid.”

“Then please take a ticket, and we’ll see you soon.” The other woman replied, frustratingly monotone.

“No, you don’t understand, we’re leaving the state in three hours, we can’t just sit around, we need answers now, legal advice, something.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but if you continue to speak to our staff members in that aggressive way, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises,” another member of staff now joined the first.

“Aggressive? I am not aggressive,” you said but you could hear the agitation in your own voice, and the tightness in your shoulders.

“What she means to say,” said Reid from behind you, dropping a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Is that we are FBI agents, leaving town on another case soon, and we would really appreciate your cooperation? I have our marriage licence here. If you could just look over it, it’d only take a few seconds of your time.” The tension rolled off of you in waves, and you melted into his touch as he gladly stepped up to continue your communication.

“Okay, yeah, that definitely seems like a legit licence. You FBI agents, you say?” the first woman questions you, and not trusting yourself not to reply passive aggressively and ruin her cooperative mood, you bite your tongue and just nod.

“My coworker who worked the graveyard shift yesterday mentioned we had a few of you come through. Congratulations on your marriage.” She handed the licence back to you and the pit in the bottom of your stomach grew.

“Is your colleague still here? We just had a few questions about some logistics. We’re out of state, you know?” Reid smiled and you were so thankful for him, for the comforting hand he’d trailed down your shoulder and rested at the small of your back as you stood fidgeting next to him. It took you a minute to realise you were playing with your new wedding ring, already so used to it being there on your finger that you hardly noticed its presence.

“Her next shift starts at 12, but if you’re as desperate for information as I think you are, I’ll have her come see you when she comes in. She’s usually five minutes early anyways.” Reid thanked the woman, and fifteen minutes later, a younger woman with a bright smile was greeting you in the lobby and leading you to a private room in the back.

“Doctor and Mrs. Reid, welcome back! Sandy said you had some follow up questions after yesterday?” she greeted you, and your head started pounding again.

“You remember us?” Reid asked, the confusion knitting his brow as he walked ahead of you.

“I don’t tend to forget husbands as handsome and romantic as you, Doctor.” Something flared in your gut then, anger or protectiveness, but it felt green and red, and you pulled Reid’s hand into your own as she guided you to sit at the table at the far side of the room.

“We’re looking to fill in some gaps in our memory from last night,” you spoke, now not caring to hold back any annoyance in your voice. This woman had written out your marriage licence and yet here she was flirting with your husband. With your Reid. With Reid. Again, the curses jumped to your tongue.

“Ah, I see. One of those.” She shot a smile at Reid, and you shot a look at him as well, but he looked oblivious at her interest and you caught yourself letting out a sigh of relief before turning back to the woman.

“You didn’t realise we were drunk?” you asked her.

“Oh no, we realised. We just assumed you were finally taking the plunge after everything you said. And everything you did, too.”

“Everything we did?” you pushed out, your voice ten times higher than usual. You coughed to make it seem like your throat was just dry, not also housing your entire heart.

“You don’t remember? You two looked so in love. You were all over each other, kissing, touching, whispering and giggling. Honestly, it was just nice to have a couple in love here at 11pm that weren’t trying to have sex in the waiting area.” The blush crept up your neck, and you tried your best to force it back down. Obviously, it didn’t work.

You were about to ask another question, probably about how you would go about getting an annulment, when she finally continued.

“And then when you got the licence you were so happy and you called your friends to come and celebrate with you. You asked for the nearest chapel and we have all that information out in the hall and you said your friends were going to come meet you, so you took off.” She shrugged a little, taking a swig from her coffee. You couldn’t help but feel that even after all of that, she was still eyeing up Spencer, so you squeezed his hand a little bit harder at that, your other hand gravitating to his bicep too, your entire body leaning into his.

“Friends?” Spencer was the first one to wake up to that statement, and your agitation reached its peak.

“Yeah, the two teammates you mentioned. You told everyone they were meeting you at the chapel, that you’d all been here working a case and they were the two that responded to your calls that night.”

“Did we mention any names?” you asked.

“No, just that they were FBI Agents. Is there something wrong?”

–X–

You threw the doors of the building open as you gasped for air, the panic fully setting in now.

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer yelled after you, following you onto the pavement. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you tugged on your hair, mindlessly fretting with it, unconscious to the pain. He finally reached you and pulled your hands into his, forcing you to look up into his eyes.

“Y/N, it’s fine. We’re going to be fine.” He soothed you quickly, and you hiccuped through the small sobs you were now letting out.

“Spencer, two of our friends know that we got married last night, and we don’t know who or how much they know, and now we know that our marriage is legal and you’re stuck with me and I got us into all this mess because I’m an adult who doesn’t want to tell her mom to back off.” By the end of your speech he was cradling your head in his hands, as your tears flowed down your face in messy trails.

“Hey, look at me. You told me this morning that this was not my fault, and I’m telling you now that that doesn't mean it's yours. We’re in this together, okay?” he waited for you to nod before continuing. “Besides, no matter who it was, our team mates love us. They’ll understand.”

“What if we get reassigned? This is a conflict of interests, right, me and you working together like this?” You’d worked so hard to be accepted into the BAU, you didn’t want to let this be your exit, and you sure as hell weren’t letting them fire Spencer for it.

“We’ll talk to Hotch and Rossi, they don't want to lose either of us, and if we get this dealt with quick enough, maybe we won't even have to report it. We could keep it quiet for a while, right?” You knew all of his words made sense, they were the best course of action for the two of you. He’d probably run all of the scenarios through his head while you showered this morning, which is why he was so level-headed. But there was a discomfort that you just couldn’t shake.

“You mean we could get this…annulled?” you asked cautiously, looking into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

“If you want, we can walk right back in there and have it done soon, I’m sure that employee would help us, she seemed friendly-”

“No.” You practically shouted, not wanting to come face to face with that woman again, and watch her flirt with Reid as he signed the annulment paperwork. “I mean, there’s no time, right? We should probably head to the chapel to figure out who our witnesses are and then we’re heading back to Quantico.” You did to rationalise your decision, praying that the jealousy (jealousy?) that you felt didn’t show in your voice or face.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Well, we have 21 days from now to file, before the annulment period passes and we’re looking at divorce, which is not favourable for either of us, but we can file from out of state.” You nodded along with his words, glad for the lack of questioning, and that he didn’t clock the hopeful glint to your eye.

“Okay, great. Yeah.” You had calmed down enough now for your proximity to become awkward, and Reid noticed as soon as you did, pulling his hands away from you and taking a step back. Maybe it was the hangover, or just the overwhelming series of emotions you’d been through successively, but it felt wrong suddenly having him so far from you. Shaking it off, you grabbed your keys out of your pocket.

“She said we picked up the information about the chapel from the lobby, right? Can we narrow down which one it is with the photo?” You suggested, suddenly not able to meet his eyes.

“Oh, right, yeah. We’d have had to have been able to get there on foot, too. I’ll go and ask them if they recognise which one it is,” he made to move back in, but you shouted a resounding ‘no’ before he could take another step.

“I’ll do it! I should probably apologise for earlier anyway, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, pushing the doors open and leaving him behind with that confused look set against his skin once again.

–X–

“I’m telling you, we delete the footage from the previous day at noon, I can’t help you.” You’d tracked down the chapel pretty quickly despite all of your options, and now found yourself arguing with a pretty lackluster Elvis impersonator, desperate to figure out any more details about the night before.

“What about staff members that could verify? We just need a vague description.”

“Everyone’s a part-timer here, lady. The people on shift today won't be back for another two days or so. Come back then, okay?” He showed you to the door then, and if you hadn’t gotten drunk and married in Vegas the night before, this would certainly have been your lowest moment.

“Nothing?” Reid asked from his perch on the car.

“They delete the security footage.” You signed in frustration, and he showed a sympathetic smile on his face.

“How do you want to play it, then?” he asked. “Two of them are already going to know, should we just come clean to the entire team, see if they could help?”

“No, god no. As much as it’s my current reality, I don’t really want to have to respond to Mrs. Reid until Morgan gets new material, and no one’s going to be this easy of a target any time soon.”

“Technically speaking, you’d have to apply for a legal name change to become Mrs. Reid, usually couples do it a few days either side of the wedding and start the process of updating all their legal IDs so they can travel internationally for honeymoons without anyone asking questions.”

“Not the point, Reid.”

“And I knew that. Sorry.” It was hard to stay annoyed at him with that small smile stretched across his lips, and you suddenly found yourself wondering just exactly how he'd felt against you.

You’d kissed at the chapel, at the wedding licence office, in his hotel room, and you couldn’t for the life of you remember if you’d been the one to lean in first, or if it’d been him, or if it’d been both of you and what that meant. Did he like you, did you subconsciously want him in this way? Did this even mean anything? And what had those handcuffs been about?

He couldn’t answer most of those questions, and honestly, you weren’t sure you wanted the answers, but it’d been a day of awkward conversations, so you thought you might as well let your curiosity rule you for a few more minutes.

“Spencer, would you mind me asking a personal question?”

“Sure, we are married now. Don’t they say that the number one thing to remember in marriage is communication?” He tried to joke, but you couldn’t laugh as you got ready to spit some of the most horrific words you’d ever strung together out.

“Spencer, do you…do you often use handcuffs? In bed, I mean?” you were bright red, stood outside a 24 hour wedding chapel in the heart of Vegas and you couldn’t believe this was your life.

“Oh.” He was the same shade of red as you, and he stuttered through his next few incoherent words before you found his reply.

“I’ve not done it with the handcuffs before, but I guess I’ve…thought about it? It’s definitely in line with my… Do we have to do this here?”

“Would you rather talk about this on the jet?”

“Do we have to do this at all?” He groaned, shutting his eyes and you could feel the horror at his own actions spreading through his body.

“We are married now. Communication is key, remember?” He sighed and acquiesced, running a hand through his hair before turning back to you and forcing the words out.

“I know you probably didn’t think this about me before, but I am pretty controlling in bed. I don’t like feeling… hopeless, and it just manifests as dominance, okay? It’s been a while since I had a partner though, so the handcuffs were new to me, but I’ve tied girls up before. Now can we stop this conversation here before someone on this very public street hears us?”

“Okay, yeah sure. That actually makes a lot of sense really.” You said, nodding and moving to get into the car. You tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing that the knowledge of his preferences was going to plague your dreams for the next few nights.

“You don’t have to lie, Y/N, I know I don’t seem like the type.” He got into the passenger side next to you, and you ignored looking at him in the mirrors desperately as you started the engine and made your way back to the hotel.

“No, I mean it makes sense that it happened to us. I don’t think we would’ve ended up in bed together if we weren’t so… compatible.” You let the silence sit between you as you let him take in your words, driving to the orchestra of midday strip traffic.

“Oh.” He said. “Oooh.” He finally caught on, and you felt your head turning in his direction, but you forced it back towards the road, convincing yourself that you really didn’t need to see his reaction, to study his expressions.

“Well, at least we know that we both enjoyed it then.” You weren’t sure if he was just oblivious, or trying to get a reaction from you, but nonetheless, your heart clenched at that, excitement rising in your stomach.

You convinced yourself that it was probably just the alcohol, and drove in silence back to the hotel, ready for your departure.

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @kapeyama @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @sharkcat1928 @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @zada-quinn @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @kspencer34 @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk

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thollandneedy · 11 months ago

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Princess Leia Situation- Peter Parker

A/n: I always wanted to write this one, since i watched Friends for the first time. I hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Sexual but not a smut; Cursing; Awkwardness

Summary: Y/n tries out a sexy costume for Valentines day, but it goes wrong

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Peter's bedroom door was closed, as he needed privacy at that moment. Peter's mouth descended slowly between wet kisses and hickeys on his girlfriend Y/n's neck, while the girl guided his head down her sensitive body with her hand. The girl could feel the slight pressure between her legs, and her boyfriend's heart beating hard against her chest.

The sexual air was very palpable, but lately Y/n seemed to be preoccupied with routine sex. Apart from the fact that it had already been an argument with her boyfriend, the girl had been searching every day for ways to improve their sexual relationship, but no idea seemed to be enough.

They had tried positions like 69 or a tantric massage, but nothing seemed to please Peter very much. Since they had started having sex in their third month of dating, he had always tried to show off his skills or introduce different objects to stimulate his girlfriend better. The brunette wasn't hard in bed, but he liked to learn more about his tastes every day by trying different things on his own or with Y/n. St. Valentine's Day was approaching, as was the anticipation of a fuck he would never forget.

"'Babe?" Peter caught the eye of his girlfriend, who seemed to have lost her way.

"Hmm?" Y/n focuses her eyes on Peter, who looks at her with a slight smile.

"What were you thinking?" The boy uses one of his fingers to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, then kisses her.

"Just about your Valentine's Day present. I want our night to be perfect."

"My darling." Peter looks at her lovingly. "Don't worry about it. It's already going to be perfect because it's you, so whatever you have planned, don't put so much pressure on yourself."

"I know." The girl let all the air out of her chest as she replied, still staring at the image of her boyfriend with a white blouse clinging to his muscles.

Fuck, he was so damn hot

"Sorry to break the mood. Can we go back?" The girl asks, receiving a silent affirmation in response.

Peter melted into Y/n's lips once again, bringing one of his hands up to the girl's exposed thighs and squeezing. His fingers were dangerously close to her crotch, causing a sly moan to be uttered. Y/n's body seemed to vibrate at her boyfriend's touch, making her raise her waist in search of the intimate touch she so desperately needed.

"I'll take care of you, love." The brunette slid his fingers between the girl's legs, letting all her worries go to waste when he found that perfect spot.

(...)

Valentine's Day, and she still hadn't thought of what to do.

It seemed like everyone on earth had an idea for later, but she hadn't planned anything much, since Peter was going to cook for her in his apartment. Y/n woke up mentally yelling at herself, because as well as being in finals week, she hadn't liked the present she'd bought for her boyfriend. The white bag on her desk in front of the window was a reminder.

I shouldn't have bought a Grogu mug, Y/n thinks.

The silence in her house was customary, but she realized that she had woken up two hours before her lesson, giving her time to watch television and eat cereal like a child watching a cartoon. The girl in the pink sweater and slippers got out of bed, headed for the kitchen to prepare her cereal and watch Friends, as she did almost every day. Letting the streaming channel choose a random episode, she ran to the cutlery drawer to get a spoon, and finally settled down between pillows and a warm blanket.

At the end of the episode, and the cereal, his brain exploded with the best idea he could have come up with. With an optimistic smile, Y/n kissed the television and laughed.

"Rachel Green, you're a genius. I love you" The girl in pajamas says to the screen, and runs to her room to change.

Later that day, in the apartment left by May so that Peter and Y/n could spend the night alone, the girl was tapping her feet frantically. The spaghetti bolognese seemed to go down her throat like water, not even giving her time to chew it properly. The lights were off, with only a few candles that smelled of pine cones. Peter, with a worried frown, asked:

"Are you in a hurry?" The brunette laughs to himself, and can hear Y/n's heart beating faster when she is asked.

Y/n brings her eyes up to his, staring at him with her mouth smeared with red sauce. The girl silently denies it, letting out a laugh covered by a napkin. Peter leans against the table, reaching out with the napkin to wipe the rest of the sauce off his girlfriend. The girl smiles, looking down at her black-heeled feet and long-sleeved burgundy tube dress.

"You look beautiful today, you know that?" Parker compliments her.

The girl lets out a nervous laugh, looking down at her handbag on the kitchen worktop.

Oh, fuck me

"You look wonderful as always." Y/n returned the compliment to her boyfriend, who was wearing a black polo shirt.

The student picked up the glass of white wine in front of them, raising it with the intention of making a toast. Coughing dryly, Y/n copied his boyfriend's action, smiling forcedly at him. Parker had never been much of a drinker, but he couldn't deny that wine always helped him calm down before sex, or even put him in the mood when he wasn't.

"Here's to us. May we spend every future Valentine's Day together from now on." The brunette said, causing a shy smile from his girlfriend, who still had her legs flapping under the table.

"To us" The girl clinked glasses, then drank the wine in one swallow.

"Shall we go and exchange gifts?" Peter stood up, picking up the two empty glasses and empty plates from the table covered in a gray cloth with gold details.

There was no escape

"Umm, of course! That's it, let's get to the presents. Of course" The girl straightens her babylissed locks and puts them to one side.

Peter sits down in front of her at the table once again, but now with a small black and white bag with a red handle. As much as he would have liked to hide the brand of the bag, any woman could recognize that it was from Sephora.

"I snooped through your Sephora bag, but you had more than 100 items curated and I still haven't been promoted to work in another area with Stark." Y/n laughs. "So, I preferred to give you this" Peter hands the bag to his girlfriend, watching her expectantly as she opens it.

"Peter! I really loved it." Y/n smiles as she finds a highlighter and a Fenty gloss. The girl stood up, walked over to her boyfriend and hugged him.

"Well, yours..." Y/n looked once more at the bag that held the mug. "It's not here right now." Y/n tries to explain.

"You can give it to me later, love. No problem." Peter nods.

"No! It's not that, I need you to wait in your room, so I can give you the present."

Peter makes a curious face, but not for a million years would he turn down a sexual offer as a Valentine's Day present.

"All right" The brunette heads for his room, closing the door and waiting for the gift his girlfriend has prepared.

Shit! Fuck!" Y/n looked in her other bag for the mysterious gift she had rented from the costume store the afternoon after her last lesson. Stumbling over her own heels, the girl locked herself in the bathroom at the end of the corridor, cursing herself for coming up with such a miraculous idea at the last minute.

Her hands tried to add a bun to her hair, securing it with bobby pins that fell to the floor because of the cramped room.

"Shit!" Y/n curses as she loses the clips on the floor, then bangs her head against the sink.

The gold bikini seemed small in relation to her breasts, so she tried to make them fit without them slipping out of the factory. Her hands tried to make them fit, but every now and then, the knot on her back came undone, or one of her breasts slid to the side. When she looked in the mirror, her hair still didn't look the way it needed to. The side bun looked more like a bird's nest than a space bun. Groaning in discontent, Y/n grabbed her cell phone from the closed toilet and tried to do another type of hair that wouldn't cost her soul to make it perfect.

Peter, on the other hand, was undressed on his single bed, trying to find some position to receive his girlfriend. He didn't want to look like a sexy fireman on a calendar cover, but he didn't know where to put his hands, or even if he was going to cover himself with the rumpled sheet on his bed.

A few minutes later, he was distracted by his cell phone, which was vibrating with Twitter notifications. As long as Y/n was taking, his lack of concentration meant that 15 minutes passed too quickly. Lying on his stomach with a pillow on his chest, the brunette commented on posts and was distracted by memes that appeared on his timeline every five minutes he slid further from the beginning.

"Peter?" Y/n's voice called his name, causing the boy to drop his cell phone and leave the shooting game he was playing on his cell phone.

"Yes?" The brunette lay down on the bed, covering most of his body as if he were already ready for bed, and switched off the main light in the room so that his lamp would be the only source of light in the room filled with posters and books.

Peter's bedroom door slowly opened, revealing his girlfriend's body in the most iconic Star Wars bikini. His girlfriend's breasts were perfectly embraced by the golden part of the bikini, while her waist was covered only by a long red skirt with golden details at the top. Her hair was in a messy braid, but nothing really said how Y/n looked. Even though many of the details were poorly finished, and especially the top was too small for her breasts, Peter looked at her as if she were too perfect for him. The boy cracked a slow smile, and his eyes seemed to pop out of his face with every step closer to his girlfriend.

"Y/n" Peter said, processing the surprise his girlfriend had given him. And without even realizing the movement of his body, one of his hands went to his mouth in an expression of surprise.

He hated it

Oh my God

He hated it or he thinks I'm pathetic

"I know! I know, it was a stupid idea, I'm sorry." The girl closes her eyes in frustration and shame. "I bought you a grogru mug, but I wanted to do something better because you always make everything for me so perfect, and I know how much you like Star Wars and I thought it would be cool to do the same as Rachel did in Friends and" The girl is cut off by a quick kiss.

"I don't have the hots for Princess Leia, but you look stunning." Peter holds both of the girl's hands, looking her up and down.

"Really?"

" Yes." Peter smiles. "And by the way, I broke my favorite mug last night. I really needed another one." The brunette smiles, which is answered by a loose laugh from his girlfriend.

"Aren't I an idiot?" The girl shrugged, looking at herself once again.

"Not at all." Peter replied, using his index finger to lift the chin of the girl, who watched him with innocent eyes. "Are you going to let me put my lightsaber on you now?"

"PETER!"

#tom holland #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker #friends #mcu!peter parker #mcu!peter x reader

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emmafreakecreations · 7 months ago

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Rhysand is not morally grey- He's just an asshole

Rhys stans will say, "He did all those things UTM to protect Feyre and for the greater good!" and then proceed on a lengthy explanation of his reasons.

No no no no. I understand WHY he did it, I just don't agree with his methods. And there is NEVER a good reason to SA someone.

And yes he did SA Feyre. He drugged her- couldn't get verbal consent from her- and then proceeded to touch her everywhere/ make her dance on his lap, while MAKING her wear revealing clothes. But- but he didn't touch her privates! It doesn't matter he still touched her waist and for most people I know that is in the no no square. It's still touching someone without consent, taking away people's choice about their own body is abuse. And that includes him not telling her about her pregnancy. He didn't want to stress her out! That doesn't matter, she has every right to know about what is going on with her body, knowing her options so she can make an informed decision of what she wants to do. In our world that's literally a violation of HIPAA. And if anything it's more stressful not knowing what is going on with your body. You're bringing real world standards into a fantasy world! SJM already did that by bringing her white 21st century feminism into this world and you guys are often treating Lucien and Nesta based on real world standards so I can do that too.

But Feyre forgave him, so you should too. That's her prerogative but if I was in her shoes I wouldn't. Because his long ass monologue that's TEN PAGES never once said the words "I'm sorry for doing that to you." It's only giving his reasons which to me sound like excuses, because there was definitely another way he could protect her without causing her bodily harm. He could have just left her in her cell and sent her mental images of happy things to keep her sane. He could have just communicated with her through her mind. He needed to keep a rouse up because Amarantha was suspicious! No where in the text does it mention that Amarantha wanted Feyre at those parties. For all she cared Feyre could just go die in her cell from infection and she would win. By Rhys bringing her to those parties he put more of a target on her and raised Amarantha's suspicions. And after rereading the monologue some things in Rhys's plan UTM is inconsistent.

"I decided, then and there, that I was going to fight. And I would fight dirty, and kill and torture and manipulate, but I was going to fight. If there was a shot of freeing us from Amarantha, you were it. I thought … I thought the Cauldron had been sending me these dreams to tell me that you would be the one to save us. Save my people." (pg 448 Ch 54- I have a pdf and idk if that lines up with physical prints)

cool fine. but then he proceeds to say two paragraphs later that he was mad that Tamlin didn't get Feyre out when he had the chance. This does not make sense because if Feyre leaves how tf is she supposed to save everyone. She already has a deal with Amarantha to save people and sure she might die but leaving is not going to save everyone.

"I made you dress like that so Amarantha wouldn’t suspect, and made you drink the wine so you would not remember the nightly horrors in that mountain. And that last night, when I found you two in the hall … I was jealous. I was jealous of him, and pissed off that he’d used that one shot of being unnoticed not to get you out, but to be with you.." (Ch 54 pg 448)

After rereading this I'm convinced this man didn't have much a plan and if anything initially was doing these things out of cruelty and just because he could. His plan makes no sense if you really think about it. Once he got the hots for Feyre, he back tracked. His plan to piss Tamlin off so that he killed Amarantha makes no sense, because Tamlin has already delt with this woman not respecting him saying no, disfigured his best friend, cursed him, and is now trying to kill his lover. I don't think he needs more motivation.

But he is morally grey! no he isn't. Most morally grey characters who have a love interest, at least I have encountered never bodily harm her. They have a line they will not cross- they have morals. Rhysand seems to not have a line-no morals- to me he's more amoral. Carden Greenbriar bullied his love interest and did some heinous shit, but he had a line he wouldn't cross-murder. He does not like murder. When the bullying got to a point where Jude could die, he stepped in and he saved her. Jun-pyo from boys over flowers also bullied his love interest basically because of how he was raised he has no understanding how to show love (similar to Cardan). He got the whole school bullying her just because she stood up to him. But when some students tried to sexually assault her he got pissed at them and told them he never said to do anything like that. He also has a line he won't cross, sexual assault.

to quote my good in real life friend @that-sarcastic-writer , who has endured my rants about this series. Who reads dark romance and who I have summerized this series to:

"You don't have him hurt her and SA her and then later you try to backtrack by having him cry about his love for her without truly apologizing. And that's my biggest issue with most dark romance mmcs. They actively hurt/SA the fmc but then oh she liked it and he loves her deep down. Cause it's one thing to "hurt" the fmc emotionally, like a third act breakup, and that's fine, that's human, people make mistakes and fight, but you can't convince me physically hurting or assaulting the fmc is something that can be forgiven with claims of love."

Anyways Rhysand is red flags everywhere and is not a person you should strive to date. Date more men like Lucien. If you like Rhys and are just like, "I like him, I know he's toxic." You do you but don't try to convince me he is a hero, he is only a villain to me.

#anti rhysand #anti feysand #feyre deserves better #anti acotar #anti ic #anti sjm

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mirensiart · 8 months ago

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Woah people talk abt the pain sharing au so much here I feel kinda bad that what I had to say was about that too

Hey miry! First off I wanted to say that u adore your art, like the art style in general is just so mhgfdsh (this is a compliment)

I was scrolling through this au and I remembered a few fics I saw on ao3 (I don’t remember the authors, I couldn’t find the fics again) about how holding the master sword hurts wind a little bc he doesn’t have the heroes spirit, and I was wondering if the others would feel that too because Fi doesn’t like to hurt her masters

Sorry if you’ve explained something like this before, I haven’t seen anything like that

(That’s mainly what I came here to say, but halfway through scrolling through this tag I came up with the mental image of the chain just suddenly feeling like they fell down 3 flights of stairs and they don’t know why… and the next letter from Ravio is like ‘sorry Mr hero I fell down 3 flights of stairs’ and I wanted to share that mental image)

Hsgshsjs we all love to hurt the boys, it’s ok, I encourage people to talk to me about the au lol

And aaah thank you 🥹💖 makes me happy to know that! seriously thank you 💖

And OOHHHH yes! I’ve read fics with that premise and it’s so good! It’s why he’s been my favorite link since I played the wind waker ages ago, like he’s so determined and stubborn and so loyal to his family he looked the gods in the face and made them choose him lol

If we go with the “fi hurts wind cause he doesn’t have the hero’s spirit” headcanon then I feel it would be awful news for her and the worst time ever for her too cause of the pain sharing curse lmao like wind accidentally grabs the master sword, he gets hurt cause no hero’s spirit, then everyone gets hurt too cause of the pain sharing curse and fi is like this inside the master sword after knowing she hurt sky & everyone else too

I personally like the headcanon that fi acknowledges wind anyway though, like she knows he doesn’t have the hero’s spirit but accepts him cause she feels his courage and it’s familiar to her regardless lol BUT to everyone who writes fics of him getting burned by fi: excellent content, I love the whump, I eat it up, keep going please

I really want to get to the ravio part of the curse in the mini comic I’m doing cause every single ravio incident is so funny to me, like I love how everyone helped me cook how to integrate ravio into the curse cause like, it’s my favorite thing hehe

#miry’s ask box #lu pain sharing au

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skele-bunny · 5 months ago

Text

Hi have pt 3 of Mountains grief. (Pt 1, pt 2)

Guilt. (CW) Mountain/Aether/Dewdrop

CW - Mentioned Deaths

Tags: Violence, Hurt/Little Comfort, Hallucinations Due to Grief, Mountain has Anger Issues

Characters: Mountain, Ifrit, Rain, Swiss, (past) Aether, (past) Dewdrop, Misc.

(banners by @ wrathofrats . MDNI)

"Hey... Helloooo? Oh I swear, it really is like a bear in hibernation. What's that show— With the squirrel lady and dirty Dan?" Small hands touched his chest, rubbing and trying to get attention.

Another pair of hands gently caressing under his chin. "Pft, are you comparing him to that hibernation episode where Sandy went wild?"

"Yeah! That's the one!"

"I can hear you, you know." Mountain yawned, smiling softly as he opened his eyes.

His smile faded as the sources weren't there, sitting up slowly and touching his fur. Mountain looked down at his lap, quiet and trying to let himself wake up more before his alarm went off, angrily pushing the snooze button. He stood up from the bed, going to his vanity and staring at a picture. Was his mind always this fuzzy?

He elected to ignore it as he picked up the necklace with two wedding bands, slipping his own on and stepping to the bathroom.

It didn't take long for him to get dressed, throwing his hair into a low ponytail as he walked to the practice room. He stepped inside, grimacing as he once again found himself to be the last one to arrive, heads turning and little waves heading his way.

He barely acknowledged any before stepping to the tiny platform where his practice kit sat, pushing his glasses up, and grabbing sticks. He could hear Papa's voice, but it was still muffled. Everything felt muffled. Mountain glanced up and quickly did a double take as mental images merged with reality, rubbing his eyes and cursing softly under his breath.

Eyes were on him.

"Ah, Mountain?" Copia smiled nervously. "Did you hear me?"

"No, Papa. I apologize."

"It's alright. I said we'll be starting Macabre, as it's what we need to work on the most."

The earth ghoul nodded, shaking his arms out and setting himself into position. It came naturally, like always, Mountain closing his eyes and focusing on only himself.

1, 1, 3, 4— double, 2, 3, 4—

It was repetitive to a point. Simple yet complex.

"I don't know how you can read this." Dew tilted his head, staring at Mountain's sheet music.

"It's kinda like your bass... See, this could be your A... That's your E... Things like that. But imagine using your feet on your guitar."

Aether laughed, even Zephyr grimacing. "Oh, that is so nasty to think about. I don't think I want my paws anywhere near the strings."

"Mountain!"

His head snapped up, growling as Swiss was in his personal space but quickly quieting down as once again eyes stared at him.

"Hey, sorry, don't kill me." Swiss laughed a bit, half-way passing it as a joke with his hands up. "You spaced out... You were going too fast."

Heat rised to his cheeks, Mountain clearing his throat. "Sorry. Won't happen again."

His eyes caught Ifrit's semi-glare, rolling his eyes and turning back towards Copia.

"Do you have something you want to say, Ifrit?"

"No, I don't." The fire ghoul hissed back, tail flicking and staying forwards.

"Then watch your face."

He turned. "Or what, Mountain? Gonna growl at me?"

"Enough of that, please—" Cirrus tried to intervene, seeing it as useless as Mountain stood up anyways.

"Mistakes happen, Ifrit. You're not all that perfect either."

"I'm not saying I am! But this is the fifth practice in a row you've fucked us all up and it's not getting better!"

Papa stuttered but unable to get any words out as Rain and Phantom quickly moved off the stage and behind him as the two eldest continued to get more aggressive.

Mountain's nose flared. "I'm trying! Give me a fucking break! If you think you're so good, why don't you come up here and do it?"

"Maybe we do need a new earth ghoul or something— Just because you can't handle your grief doesn't mean you get to be a dick to everyone!"

Mountain slammed his sticks down, stepping forwards without care and knocking his set down—fur raised and fists clenched tightly, only stopping as Swiss stood in front and pushed against him with all he had.

"Knock it off!" The multi shouted, grunting as Mountain still pushed against him.

"Fucking let him!-" Ifrit shouted back. "Let him lose another! Then he won't have me to blame anymore!"

Swiss yelped as he finally got shoved out of the way, reaching Ifrit who ignited himself just to be punched in the face. He raised his fist again but froze as hands held his.

Rain stared up with a horrified expression, tears running down his face and shaking as he held Mountain. His breathing began to slow, unclenching his fist and stepping back, looking behind him as Phantom held Swiss' arm that was bleeding — having been cut by a symbol when he got shoved.

He turned back as Rain's hands slowly let go, trying to reach up more but unable to as Mountain stepped back again. Storming out of the practice room, tears flowing as he made his way back to the den.

"You can't let your anger define you all the time." Dew curled against his side.

"I'm trying."

He slammed into his room, gripping the vanity tightly and staring at his ring.

Aether smiled, gently dabbing a cotton ball on Mountain's fist. "Hey, I consider it a win. You punched a wall, not a person."

A scream erupted from his throat, shoving the items off before flipping the vanity, glass shattering and spreading on the floor. Ripping pictures and posters off the wall, toppling his dresser over, breaking his own plants before dropping to his knees. Mountain heaved before gripping his own hair, wailing hysterically against the mess of his floor.

Sweeping up glass, Mountain bent over and carefully picked up the photo of his departeds. Captured always in a smile, clinging to him and showing off their matching rings.

It was Aether's idea. Well, technically, Dewdrop's. Their smaller mate had always been curious about human customs, especially marriage, and it was simply Aether's idea to make it happen. Sure, having the bond marks was always comforting, but getting to look at something? Comforting even more.

He gently brushed off the broken glass, sighing in relief as the picture stayed unharmed. He placed it on the vanity where it belonged, tail wagging as he managed to set up the memorial again.

He cried over what he realized he had done.

Cupping Aether's crystals that held knicks and some of the dust on the floor, frantically trying to press pieces back together to no avail — Dewdrop's stained glass made from his scales having broke at the string. He fixed those first, then his own.

"I'm sorry for getting angry again," He mumbled. "I didn't... I didn't even try to stop myself. I'm sorry I failed."

Nothing came back as he stared at the picture again, hoping they'd accept his apology. He gripped the broom better and continued sweeping before a knock came, specifically Rain's as he couldn't call out his presence.

Mountain stayed silent as flashes of Rain's face came into view, comparing it too much of when he first met Dew and how equally terrified he had been coming out of the portal with rage.

Rain knocked again and without another answer, stayed at the door. Mountain watched his shadow before a note slide under the door and the shadow leave, hastily written and trying to squeeze as much as he could on such a small piece of paper.

He swallowed his guilt and approached, picking up the colored paper and reading it;

"Swiss is okay. Everyone is okay. Ifrit is sorry for what he said. Papa wants you in therapy. I'd like to talk to you, if you'd let me? You're not alone. I'm here for you, even if you don't know me."

-Rain.

Tail curling between his hooves, Mountain placed the note on his dresser, going back to cleaning the dirt from his plants that weeped from his abuse silently.

"I didn't mean to," Mountain sobbed, clutching his face as he listened to the gift his mates had given him. "I promise I didn't mean to."

Dirt surrounded the shredded pothos, uprooted and scattered on the floor. All he felt was forgiveness. The pothos trying to comfort it's owner that caused it's own harm.

"I read that Pothos are the most forgiving plants! So... I got you one. You can talk to plants, can't you? Maybe it'll help you feel better to talk out what you need, and the pothos will always forgive you!" Aether smiled as Dew held the pot, practically bouncing on his feet.

These didn't forgive him... None of them should. And neither should his pack.

His ears went muffled again as he picked up a vase.

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ifrit ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #cw implied death #cw mentioned death

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paperpiperpeeperpopper · 21 days ago

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i wanna know about any ocs you have. this is a lore demand. /j

GRDHDHDDUFHEHRGGZGHRRR

I'm sorry but you've just made a big mistake, I won't shut up about them

Okay I have like 17+ of them so I'm only going to talk about a couple of my faves and two for the project I just got going. Blanket gore warning ⚠️

Everyone has at least one Escaped Goverment Experiemnt oc, and Allásson is mine. Likely one of my most developed because she and Mal (you'll see him later) have been my mains in a roleplay running for 4+ years now. They're a genderfluid body horror shapeshifter, (any pronouns) mixed race and half hispanic. Lore wise, her parents died in a car crash and evil scientists took her, she escaped and lives in the woods eating deer and working at a small town gift shop now. I also have a wip half sibling for him that has umbrakinesis (that's it, that's literally all I have on them) and I want them to meet and and go on adventures and something I really want to do with their story is have Al connect with her heritage more.

Woman belongs to my friend @akalimbratic

Basically I saw the hand art from this post reposted on pinterest and saw jacksepticeye play a horror game (I can't find anymore) In the same week and I ran with the ideas that popped into my head. Allásson is the host to a colony of an alien parasitic lifeform that rapidly and artificially mutates it's host for their mutual survival, it only has rudimentary sentience and can't talk or communicate, but the events were traumatizing for both Al and fibs (name for this specific colony of the parasite in meta) and they were so altered by their time in captivity that one cannot survive without the other. Al uses the fibers to move parts of her body around at a microscopic level and shapeshift and dislocate bones at will because he's weird.

Malcolm, now Malcolm is my *throws at wall* /affectionate oc. He's human, or he used to be at least. (You may remember him from the notes of the blood whump post) He's the other one that's been around a while in that long running rp (older version in the image on right), but basically he's just some teenager born into the most plain white bread normal christian family possible, his mom's a librarian and his dad's an accountant, and he's the nerdiest, gayest, silliest, gen z, most atrocious fashion sense little goober I have. Also he got cursed.

I have these demon/dreamon things (I really need to come up with a better name for them) in my lore that are invisible to people and kinda like ghosts, and will latch onto a person with life troubles and worsen their mental state to feed off the emotional energy, usually by entering their dreams and causing nightmares. Usually they go away on their own or when someone gets therapy, but if a person that has one attached suddenly has a massive dip in mental health (traumatic event, friend goes missing, getting struck by magic lightning, etc.) the demon will go into a feeding frenzy and "turn" the person into another dreamon, they dissapear from the physical plane and lose their humanity and higher thinking. This happened to Mal, but the process was interupted when he woke up from the nightmare on his own, so he was only half turned. Now he has a tail and his blood glows blue, he can enter other people's dreams, (he mostly uses this out-of-bounds to draft up fanfiction ideas) and turn into a spooky half dreamon thing at will :)

Petra and Blake are my two oldest ocs that I haven't scrapped

Petra is an android, she's designed with biomimicry in mind, and her name is an acronym for Prototype Exploration Transport and Research Android. She was meant to explore planets and enviroments humens couldn't, but she glitched while in developmet and started to develop sapience, she killed her creators before really knew what free will meant, and ran away. In the roleplay I just got running she's the engineer and local menace on a crew of space pirates, and their ship and the one they were trying to raid just crashed on an uncharted planet. (She has already been accidentally shot in the face by her friend and he burned her (non grow backable) eyebrows) She's energetic and swears a lot, aroace, and gets really really attached to people she cares about. Stabby the roomba is her adopted son and she is Petra the stabby, she likes knives. Her hair is made of light reactiive filiments that she uses to solar charge, and her "muscle" is purple :D

I don't have any newer art for her aside from this and I am not digging up the old shit.

Blake actually used to be a Subnautica oc while BZ was in early development, but I've repurposed her for my own worldbuilding project later. Her father's ship goes down and breaks up in the atmosphere, but she gets to a pod and is the only survivor, stranded on the alien arctic where she has been fending for herself for the last 5-ish years. She's got a small alliance with the natives there (they're fluffy seal people with lil snail antenne and ::3 faces) but they kinda view her as a tiny spooky ice cryptid. You know how much I love my unhinged alien planet survivors.

I will leave you with this for now, because i have so many more but there are so few hours in the day 😔

#original character #allásson #Iŕdauk #malcolm collins #p.e.t.r.a.#blake reyes #ask #piperamble #spires #ibuilria #threecephalopodsinatrenchcoat

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hobisstar · 2 years ago

Text

blue | y!taehyung x fem!reader

summary: breaking up over difficult reasons was always tuff to handle. Everyone had their different ways with dealing with them. But, Taehyung wasn’t everyone, and he be damned if the love of his life thought it was okay to say such a thing.

warning: nothing too bad! light cursing, a little bit of angst, Taehyung is a little bit of a manipulator in this, tae is a painter in this. possessiveness.

tag list: none!

a/n: Hello! i’ve been on a role but this one will be short! just wanted to get an idea out before i go to bed! if you like this short one, let me know if i should make a longer version of it! enjoy!

disclaimer: as always, i do not intend to say that anyone i write open are actually like this. this is purely fiction and i would like to only keep it that way.

Blue.

the color that y/n thought explained her relationship deeply. it was the color that she picked out in each apartment she shared with her lover, Taehyung.

She loved him… at the start. she really did. But once his career started to take off, he changed and for the worst. he constantly was coming home late after hang out with some painters, constantly smelling like someone else’s perfume, constantly sleeping in on days that the both of them planned to go out and see the world, see the blue.

this time, it was the last straw. taehyung had come back at 3 am with some girl and a guy that was carrying him inside. she promised herself that in the morning she would leave and never return. tired of living the life of a famous man’s forgotten girlfriend.

morning comes and y/n was awaken by the smell of coffee and breakfast but also by the sound of smooth jazz playing. She assumed Tae was in one of his many paintings moods. When he was hungover, coffee and painting was his remedy. Always came up with a beautiful painting that he described as “ lady” who he said always was made in the thoughts of Y/N.

as she got up, took a shower and did her daily morning routine, she remembered her promise. This ends today, now, right now. Yes, she loves him or loved him. But she couldn’t continue to live like this anymore.

She walked to the closet and grabbed the nearest duffel bag and packed most off her clothes shoes and under garments. Lucky for her, her best friend lived not too far from here and always offered her home to her.

Once everything was packed she was heading down the huge staircase and realized that Tae must of been in the kitchen painting this time. She put everything of hers in her car and walked back in ready to end this, no matter what he said, Y/N was completely leaving.

She walked into the kitchen hearing the sweet deep hums of her now mentally but not physically ex boyfriend. His back facing her, she cleared her voice.

“ Tae, do you remember anything about last night?” she asked sitting at the island. “ No, All i remember is that Jimin and Amy carried me home last night. Im sorry, Mi amor, for coming in so late..” he said smiling lightly. he was truly sorry even if it didn’t show. That was Taehyung.

his answers seemed cold, heartless even, but mistaken his love for Y/N. He loves her with his life.

“ Taehyung i can’t do this anymore.” y/n blurted. While still painting Taehyung answered “ Hmm? Do what my dear?” he softly put the paint brush against the canvas. He was painting an image of what their intimacy looked like in art form. Though he had plenty of these paintings, it’s the only thing he would paint after being drunk.

“ Us. Im tired of the drinking, the partying, the coming home at whatever time of night, the ditching me, the canceling dates for the faulty friends of yours. Im tired of sitting in this colorless home when our love is supposed to make it colorful. Im done, Tae. I want to break up.” You stated and took a breath that you didn’t realize you held in. Being this honest felt so refreshing. “ I don’t need your answer, i already packed my things and i’m going to stay with my family for now until i find me a place permanently.” she cut in.

nothing. Taehyung said nothing. but oh he was thinking it. his mind just running on thoughts. he wanted to be okay and accept her choice like a normal human, but he damn sure wasn’t normal. he’s always had the thoughts of locking Y/N up when the day of her maybe wanting to leave came about. he didn’t know it be that fast.

why does she want to leave him so bad? when did y/n have all these issues with his lifestyle? why is it just now coming up? why doesn’t want to talk about it? all of these of examples of what is running through his head. instead of actually letting out a answer, he lets a huff out as he puts his paintbrushes down.

“ Why are you trying to leave?” he asked lowly, “ why is my lifestyle all of a sudden a problem for you?” he just wanted answers. Though he was really trying to add time so he could think about ways to keep her locked her.

He always has bodyguards at their house in the entrance, he could have them bring her bags in and get her car towed. Have them get their food, send out his newest works while he stayed in the house with her. Yeah, he thinks he’ll do exactly that.

“ Trying? oh no Kim, i’m leaving. All of sudden? i’ve mentioned your drinking and party habits plenty of times but you thought i was just nagging you so you ‘mi amor’ d your way out of it,” Y/N stood up and walked out the kitchen to the living room. Taehyung took this time to text his body guards to grab her things out her car, bring them to the back, take her car somewhere far, sell it and put the house on lock down.

He smirked and walked out of the kitchen and stood at the door way between the living room and kitchen, watching her walk to the front door but only to freeze.

Y/N saw the blue light on security system, the light means that the house was on lock down, no way in and no way out, unless you have the code which Taehyung changes every month. He just so happened to had change it earlier this morning. Good choice he was thinking.

“ Taehyung, take off the lock down.” Y/N stated while standing by the door, waiting. He smiled and walked close to her and leaned against the wall.

“ Y/N~, Mi amor~, i find it absolutely entertaining that he had any hope in assuming i was going to let you out this house. You don’t make the choices for us, baby. I do. I decided when you can walk away. And i decided you can’t-“ - “ you can’t force me to stay in here,” “ Cut me off again and i’ll lock you up without any food or water for the next two days until you learn your lesson.” He walked away and sat on the couch organizing the table in front of it.

Y/N was trying to figure out the code. she tried her birthday, nothing, his birthday, nothing, their anniversary, surprise, nothing. “ There is no use, princess.” he turned to look at her. “ It’s not Yeon’s birthday either or the day we got him. You should be a good girl. maybe i’ll let you out early.” he smiled, the smile you used to love.

y/n didn’t expect this. she never thought Tae would do something like this. locking her and hisself in the house for god knows how long? maybe months, maybe years…

“ Let’s go paint something, baby. And don’t be so blue, i won’t hurt you…” he mumbled the last part while staring at her.

Blue.

the color y/n now understands why she thought it was their color. Taehyung always had a way of making her feel stuck. Defeated. Lost with no where to go. he made her feel…

Blue.

#bts x reader #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #thv #bts v #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung angst

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yuri-is-online · 10 months ago

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oof that's a really good morally grey pwp idea... if darkwick tells mc her curse cannot be lifted but can be passed on to a child -> the new cure is for her to be impregnated by a ghoul (better chance of whatever makes them ghouls overpowering whatever makes mc cursed), give birth to that child and for darkwick to kill the newborn immediately... but to prevent any of the ghouls from forming a real attachment to the fetus and somehow busting into the delivery room to save it, they can't know who the father is -> cue a multichapter pwp fic (with the exception of rui)...

(sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, please delete if so!!)

( • ̀ω•́ )✧ fufuufufufu no I don't mind this, I lack the technical skills to write it but yes that's a really good pwp idea. Poor Rui this might be enough to make him actually lose it, can you imagine being someone whose main character trait is being a whore, but being denied your godgiven right join the school sanctioned gangbang? They're even encouraging you to hit it raw fuck this stupid baka life he's done. I also like how you excluded Rui but not Zenji because that would make it even worse... the ghost gets to hit it but he doesn't? ED GETS TO HIT IT BUT NOT HIM?!?!?!!!!

I was thinking about smut when I typed that of course but I didn't really spend a lot of time thinking about the plot because I was too busy inventing new ethical questions. Would Taiga want to eat the baby? It is technically part anomaly... he doesn't want to eat Ed or Lyca so I would guess not but still. What about guys like Romeo, Ritsu, or Jin? Would they even agree to participate in something like this given how important children are to rich fussy families would they see making one like this extra wrong? Or would the horny kick in and they not want to allow the chance for MC's baby to be anyone other than theirs? Oh and on Ritsu, I feel like he'd be making a bunch of weird legal arguments trying to justify wanting to get the mc pregnant. He's just repressed, the arguments don't matter, but would he then try to make a bunch of arguments to keep the baby alive? Is there a legal standard of personhood in Japan and do I even want to research that-

Speaking of personhood, Lyca, Ed, and Zenji. I feel like Lyca wouldn't be able to let go of the idea of MC as his mate and that child as his baby. He wants to live with humans and be human, part of that seems to be him wanting a real family so if he was the baby daddy this would just be extra cruel. His instinct and desire is to love and protect, and even if he didn't have that he knows what Darkwick is like. Danger or not he doesn't want them killing you or the baby. Ed probably just wouldn't see what the problem is. Yes, his baby is an abomination from hell part vampire part Kyklos (so little human he doesn't need to mention that). No, he will not be letting Darkwick kill them and yes he will know if the baby is his, he has a sixth sense for these sorts of things. Now now don't cry, he might be an old man but he's not above taking responsibility, Japan was getting boring anyway. He can drop you off in whatever hole he crawled out of to can rest and recover while he watches the baby and shows them man made horrors beyond their comprehension (conspiracy youtube videos). I brought up Zenji just because the image of MC wanting to get dicked down by a ghost and conducting a dark ritual to let him do it. Also idk Zenji feels like another extra tragic because he also is someone who values family so I don't think he would want to see his child die, but also if it could save MC he'd really want to try and help.

Yuri would be very smug about this being a solution, volunteer to help, realize that everyone thinks he wants to fuck the MC, and then pass out from screaming denial and the mental image of her bare neck. I feel like he'd be one of the "worse" choices in Darkwick's mind because he would probably want to keep the baby to experiment on, but be completely unable to see them as anything other than his child and devolve into the same desperate search to cure them as he was on with MC. And he expects child support! He will not be a single father, MC get back here and take some responsibility for your actions!!! Jiro also feels like someone who would volunteer not realizing the method he was volunteering for but unlike Yuri he just rolls with it. He's so unashamed of nudity, yours or his, and what is sex if not nudity with some extra steps-

(My mind more went towards artificial insemination, so Rui wouldn't be excluded from the pool and there was no chance for the ghouls to form an emotional connection to either the MC or their potential baby. Oh I also don't think Darkwick would tell MC or the dad that the kid is going to be killed. They would probably lie about it and act like the child would be fine, just maybe an anomaly they would need to keep an eye on. And then they lie to MC and say the baby was still born but they just keep them in a little padded room and experiment on them their whole life, which just starts the Kyklos cycle anew except this time the monster is sentient and out for blood with intent.)

#<3 asks #tokyo debunker #tdb #tdb smut #tokyo debunker smut #n/sfw

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krystalcat · 1 year ago

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can I get a slight fluffy soulmate au ot8 oneshot of (me) meeting ateez after a show and catching their interest when I say something in my native language out of nervousness 🙈

since I am kinda tall (172cm), to have that as a mental image

Of course! This was my first time writing a soulmate AU, so I had to search a little to be sure of the story ideas. I hope I didn't drive away from what you were expecting and that you enjoy this! Also I'm so incredibly sorry for taking so long to post this, I was constantly rewriting the ending but finally came with something I also enjoyed.

This is also my first time writing ot8 so I tried my best to every member have some spotlight as well

What Is Love?

ღ Pairing: AteezOT8 x afab!Reader ღ Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU ღ Word count: 1,8k ღ Warnings: some cursing and I think that's it ღ Summary: For everyone, it was a known fact that the name of someone's soulmate appeared on their skin after meeting them. Spending your whole life watching your friends and acquaintances getting those marks on their skin made you believe perhaps you didn't have an assigned soulmate. ღ Disclaimer: This is only fiction, by writing this I am not trying to represent the members in any way. Not proofread!

It was that time of the year again, a week before Valentine’s day. Once again, you were out with your girl friends in a cafe, discussing how everyone was spending their Valentine’s day with their soulmates. Except you.

Your 23rd birthday was coming up, and you still didn’t find your soulmate, despite visiting tons of places and currently living in the South Korea. Almost every one you knew had already found theirs, so saying you didn’t feel left behind was a blatant lie, despite it being no one’s fault.

At this point you had lost hope, you accepted you were part of the small minority who didn’t have an assigned soulmate. Your friends and parents suggested that you could start a relationship with someone else who also didn’t have a soulmate, and oh man you tried. Unfortunately, there was either always a spark missing or your date had to tell you they had found their soulmate.

It felt like it was destined for you to be forever alone, like the stars played a cruel prank on you.

“Yn? Did you hear me?” One of your friends woke you up from your deep thoughts, making you realize the table was looking at you.

“Sorry what was it? I was just thinking about something”

“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s day?” The same friend asked you, almost in a whisper. They knew they were touching a sensitive topic, but they still had hoped this year would be different from all the others.

“Probably the same as last year, being alone on my apartment and binge-watch some movies and series” The air now thick after your answer, leaving your friends both feeling bad for their nosiness and your situation.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with you, but I think I should go. I shouldn’t make you guys feel bad for something that is out of your control” You grabbed your things and gave them your part of the bill.

“Wait, just to make sure, you’re going to Ateez’s show tomorrow right?” She asked after you got up

“Of course I am, bye!” All three of them said goodbye as well as you left the café, making your way back to your apartment.

Seeing all the couples hugging and holding their hands felt like a stab in your heart, you just wanted to know what it was like to feel loved. You wanted to know what love felt like. Was it sweet like candy? Was it addicting? Could it make you feel like you were in heaven? Could it hurt you?

Ever since your teenage years those questions lingered around your mind, still left unanswered.

«—— ღ ——»

You were now waiting outside for Ateez to leave their music show to greet the fans, it was your first time going to one of the k-pop music shows, so you had no idea of how it functioned, but nevertheless you had a great time watching Ateez perform.

By the end your throat was sore from all the cheering and fan-chanting, you would hype each and every members during their parts along with your friend, despite knowing your screams would combine with everyone else’s. Every single one of the members looked so charming and charismatic with their stylish outfits and stage presence, too bad they couldn’t manage to get the win, losing only by a few points, you would’ve loved to hear them sing the encore as well.

“Look yn!” Your friend patted your arm as screams erupted, making you look up from your cellphone, the members were leaving. Lucky you, they were passing right by your side, just on the other side of the iron fence.

You nervously clutched the album you brought for them to sign, your mind rehearsing what you would say. It wasn't every day that you got to meet your favorite group, after all.

The members approached, greeting fans and signing merchandise. As they drew nearer, you couldn't help but marvel at their charisma and genuine smiles. One by one, they signed your album, each exchange leaving you more in awe than the last.

When it was finally your turn to meet Hongjoong you felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You handed him the album, and he smiled warmly, ready to engage in a brief conversation.

As you stammered through your words, you inadvertently let out a nervous laugh and muttered something in your native language. The members exchanged curious glances, and Hongjoong's eyes lit up with interest. He leaned in, asking, "What language was that?"

You blushed, realizing you had unintentionally piqued their interest. "Oh, sorry, that was just my native language. I tend to switch to it when I'm nervous."

Seonghwa, who was standing nearby, grinned and joined the conversation. "It sounded beautiful. What did you say?"

You smiled back, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just said that meeting ATEEZ feels like a dream come true."

The members exchanged appreciative glances, and Yunho chimed in "We feel the same about meeting our fans. It's like a dream for us too"

They brisked towards the van, continuing greeting the other fans until disappearing inside of the van. You could see some of the girls looking at you weirdly, but as you stared down at them they diverted their gaze and stomped away.

“Girl you were noticed by them! We need to tell the others about this! It was so cool and honestly a little funny when you basically said ‘fuck off’ with your stare to the other fangirls”

After talking for a little while, you said your goodbyes and went to your house.

«—— ღ ——»

You tossed your little purse anywhere and took off your shoes right after closing the door behind you. You immediately went to the bathroom, pulling your hoodie sleeves up to wash your face after a long day. It seems only now your face had cooled a little.

But you noticed something on your right arm, the Ateez’s members names were written on it. You scrunched your eyes, not remembering when you had written their names there, shrugging your shoulders after thinking it was probably something you and your friend did out of boredom waiting for the queue to the music show.

Grabbing some soap and washing your arms didn’t seem to work, which made you even more confused, and then it dawned on you: it was your soulmate mark.

Water kept splashing against the sink as you kept staring at their names with an agape mouth. After all this time cursing the destiny at how you didn’t have a soulmate, you had finally gotten, not one, not two, but eight of them.

But now there was another problem: how the hell were you supposed to see them again? Their promotions are ending, they don’t have any fansign planned anytime sooner and you sure as hell wouldn’t be stalking them with a chance to talk to them. Especially when they didn’t even have your name, sure they might have it on their arm now, but who could say they would associate your faceto the name on their arm?

Needless to say you barely slept that night, and the one after that, trying to find a solution to no avail. It seemed like you had to wait even more time before you could meet them once again and talk about all of this.

«—— ღ ——»

It is now Valentine’s day, and you still haven’t seen the members. At this point you had accepted you would only see them next comeback season, which at least 4 months waiting. Different from the other years, where you would hide in your cave, today you were going for a walk, seeing the various couples dining in restaurants.

You were only sad you couldn’t spend the day with your soulmates, deep down knowing sooner or later you would meet them once again.

You sat on a bench, still seeing all the lively cafes and restaurants adorned with red and pink decorations, music buzzing through the walls, the loving gazes couples would give to their significant other.

“Excuse me?” A voice behind you interrupted your thoughts, “Is this yours? It was on the floor” turning around you saw a man wearing a mask holding a butterfly hair pin, touching your hair, you realized it was actually yours.

“Yes it is, thank you” He gave the pin back and walked away after mumbling a ‘you’re welcome’, you pin it on your hair more securely and turn to the path you were facing before, only to turn your head back once more when you hear quick footsteps approaching you.

The same man from before sprints into your direction, stopping in front of you, “Ex-Excuse me once again,” He says between breaths, “Is your name y/n?” You quirk your eyebrow, backing away from the man.

He takes off his mask, leaving you dumbfounded: it was San, Ateez’s San right in front of you, in casual attire. “I’m so sorry for scaring you, I realized you seemed like a girl I saw a few days ago” He backed away, giving you some space.

“Y-Yes I’m y/n, I’m the one you saw”

“Oh my God, we thought we’d never see you again” He gave you one of his signature dimple smiles, turning your belly into mush. “Are you busy? Do you have any place to be?”

“No, I was going back home in a few minutes”

“I’m actually a bit late to a dinner with the other members, but I’m sure they would forgive my carelessness if I brought a guest, don’t you think?” Nodding, San put his mask back on and gave you his hand - which you obviously accepted - guiding you to the restaurant.

«—— ღ ——»

They were dining in a secluded part of the restaurant, as you greeted them with a smile, you could see them changing their annoyed demeanor (due to San being late) to a surprised and happy one and called for the waiter to add another plate.

As the dinner progressed, you quickly began getting used to their attention and personalities. It was crazy how you turned from strangers to lovers in such limited time.

You finally understood what is love. Love is unconditional, the greatest gift you could ever give or receive. Love is when the other person’s happiness is more important than your own. To love is to be vulnerable, to trust others. Love is pain, and the enjoyment of it is anesthetic. To love is to admire with your heart, and to see something positive in every person. It is blind and the energy of life.

But you’d choose it everyday over being alone in a world devoid of connection and warmth.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #seonghwa fluff #ateez ot8 #yunho fluff #yeosang fluff #san fluff #wooyoung fluff #mingi fluff #jongho fluff #ateez ot8 fluff

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