#the moment i realized this i picked up on her tendency to do this more. when a parent tells an important truth to a child in a movie
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redstrewn · 1 year ago
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Being gaslit sexily by a hot fictionable man is miles more preferable
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liillyliilly · 4 months ago
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No Free-Solo
kenji sato x reader words; 10021 synopsis; from high school on, kenji couldn't do it alone, especially not when she was there for him.
“You’re missing me with that busy shit. You’re missing me with your whole ‘I can’t come over tonight’ act.” Kenji sat in what she liked to refer to as his dungeon, his lair, his Ultraman den. His too large for life couch made of black leather was cold and the emptiness was expansive in his mansion. He wanted her near, he wanted her to come back.
“I really can’t come over, I’m helping out Ami with Chiho tonight.” She tried to let him down gently, but he huffed through the phone.
She wasn’t a nanny per se, but she did do a fair amount of long-term babysitting for lots of people, mostly for Ami, occasionally for other busy mothers. She had a certain touch to the whole watching and raising kids thing, entertaining the child while also educating them.
Chiho was snoring in her bed. Ami was out with her fellow reporter boyfriend. And she, well she was watching movies in the family room of Ami’s house. Drawings that Chiho had done were covering the walls, plenty of Ultraman pictures to Kenji’s amusement.
She knew the Sato family through a long-winded connection by friendship shared between mothers. Kenji’s mom was best friends with her mom. In terms of maturity though, she was light years ahead of Kenji even when they were in high school. Back in America, when life was typical (meaning lacking in Kaiju and Ultraman responsibility) and the LA Dodgers still reigned supreme in Kenji’s head. They had met for the first time right before her junior year and his senior year.
She would be the youngest junior at the school and he would be one of the oldest seniors at their Los Angeles high school.
Her mom had insisted they visit her good friend the summer before her junior year started, and that she would need to help the son out in adapting to American High school since they had just moved from Japan.
She was worried due to a potential language barrier, but her mom assured her that he would be fluent in English. But how would her mom know that? Her anxiety was off the charts. She spent hours studying basic Japanese, which she found was probably going to kill her, why a language needs more than one writing system was beyond her.
“Ah! It’s so good to see you, Emiko!” Her mom went in for a big hug, and the petite Japanese woman returned the hug with as much enthusiasm as had been given. Her mom muttered about the separation between Emiko and Hayao, and Emiko gave a strained smile, leading them into the house.
Kenji was lounging on the couch, which she soon learned that he loved to do, a tendency to sprawl due to his height and lankiness. He was switching TV channels, until he landed on a baseball game and committed to watching that.
Her mom ushered her over to him, telling her to make conversation and get to know him. How she expected her to do that despite not knowing him at all was a wonder. She didn’t suspect that they had anything in common, and with the zeal he was watching the baseball game, she also suspected that he wasn’t going to be a huge fan of her preference for movies and shows over sports.
So she mustered up a greeting in Japanese from a textbook she had picked up. She had missed the way his eyes glinted with amusement, it was at that moment he decided to play just a small inconsequential game. A game where he pretended he didn’t know any English.
He responded in Japanese, and she realized she really knew nothing at all about Japanese. He sat up and patted the seat next to him. The moms left the main living space in favor of drinking some tea upstairs on a balcony, leaving her alone and incapable of communicating.
Pointing to herself, she said her name with a forced smile. He said ‘Kenji’ while pointing to himself and saying a variety of other words that she had no idea meant anything at all. At least Japanese sounded pretty, so she started thinking about the linguistic history and design of the syllables. He waved a hand in front of her face and she snapped out of her mini history lesson to herself.
Pushing his joke a little further, he used his head to point to a door near the stairs. She raised an eyebrow. He spoke for a few more moments, and she could only stiffly smile and nod in return. When he grabbed her hand and went to the door she thought she was going to die.
Inside the door was his room, and she really thought that this was the end of her sanity, her childhood, her innocence. She had fandangled herself into an intimate relationship with someone who didn’t even speak English and her heart was going to burst at the seams. Trying to recall all the words she had memorized, she was mad that she never learned the words for; no, stop, or I’ll kill you.
It was when she began to slink towards the door and hold her arms across her body in a cross shape that he realized maybe he should drop the joke. Her ears seemed like they were burning and her breathing had increased to a mile a minute in pace.
“Relax, I just wanted to show you my baseball cards.” He held up a binder and opened it to reveal a collection of player cards double sleeved and tucked neatly into a sheet protector.
“I thought you didn’t speak any English!” She frowned and put a hand to her heart. He laughed and she realized she had fallen for a trick.
“My bad.” He holds his hands together and puts them up near his head with a slight bow to apologize. Kenji pushes his bangs back and licks his top row of teeth, “Do you know if our school has a baseball team?” He asks.
She nods. “We’re in the top bracket for playing, it’s super hard to get onto the team though, my friend tried-”
He raised a hand to get her to stop speaking, then he informed her of his inherent athletic prowess, “Believe me, I’ll get onto the team.”
And he had. He’d even qualified to play on the varsity team.
A few months into the school year, while she was eating in the library with some friends, Kenji came bustling into the open space with his pack of baseball players. They always tagged along behind him, treating him like some sort of fancy foreign exchange kid, which she realized was exactly the situation and so her mental analogy didn’t end up working out and she clicked her teeth.
But the majority of white boys at the school did tend to lean a little too hard into the racial stereotypes and unfunny jokes. All Kenji could do sometimes was purse his lips and keep eating his natto. They thought because they had an Asian friend it was an excuse for their behavior, why Kenji never stood up to them and told them off was a huge confounding plight in her eyes. Kenji himself didn’t quite understand it either. Not even when they shortened his name into just Ken for ease and convenience.
Before she could tidy up her comparison and dissection of Kenji Sato, he was leaning on her desk, eating her carrots and searching for her eyes to meet him. He said something in Japanese, and she tried to remember how the words sounded so she could look up what he had said.
“I need your help.” He stole a bite of her sandwich, then drank some of her water. Before he even took it without asking, she offered her pastry to him and he ate the whole thing in one bite and mumbled a ‘thanks’ with his mouth full. He finished chewing and swallowing.
“I need you to pretend to date me so I can get these guys off my back.” He stuck his thumb in the direction of his teammates.
“Absolutely not. No way in hell, Kenji.” She started to pack up her bag, but he just put his hand on her bag and pressed it hard against the desk. With his other hand he gently grabbed her by the chin, and tilted her face up to his. Inches away. Her eyes went wide.
“Pretty please?” He licked his lips and she tried to bring her own face back to avoid his tongue getting to her lips.
She thought about what her mom said, telling her to help out Kenji if he needed it. This couldn't apply though, right?
“I’m going to need so many favors.” She groaned, managing to get her bag out from under his hands.
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, ruffling her hair and heading out with his friends who began to goad him for keeping her a secret for so long. He had just taken her first kiss and it didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. She was too busy pressing her hand to her lips to even notice the way his ears were a scorching hot red.
When she went to research what he had said to her, she thought she must have misheard him because the proposed English translation was something along the lines of, ‘please let this work out in my favor’.
Continuously, she called in favors, and he was there to meet them. Getting books off the top shelves in the library. Sharpening pencils when they were studying. Even helping her learn just a little more of his language.
“No, no you gotta give each syllable its own beat. Copy me.” Kenji went over the blended ‘r’ and ‘l’ sound that felt clunky in her mouth.
She did replicate what he was saying, at least to her own belief that that was her best ability. He laughed a little and she frowned.
“Okay, move your tongue a little, right behind your front teeth, but also not touching your teeth, just let your tongue kinda do the sound in the middle.” Kenji opened his mouth a little so she could observe. She tried again but it sounded even worse than the first attempt.
“I wish I could just move your tongue for you so you could get the motion right.” She looked quickly side to side, biting her bottom lip. Kenji backtracked immediately, “That didn’t come out quite right, I think that’s enough Japanese for one day.” She nodded rapidly and closed the journal she was using to take notes.
He said that they could go get food, she agreed and they got burgers and milkshakes at a run down family owned diner. He paid, despite her insisting she could pay for her own food. Saying that that was apart of the whole fake dating thing.
“You know, you do a lot of things under the guise of our not dating, dating thing.” She sipped her milkshake. Kenji took a bite of his burger, musing about what he would say.
“Well, we’re friends as well right?”
“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out since you basically arrived here. We’re friends, but honestly, we behave more like best friends.” She finished off her shake and cleaned up her area.
That was something he liked about her, her consideration for cleanliness and organization. But also her appreciation for others around her, cleaning up her stuff so that the likely overworked waitress didn’t have to. A person who thinks about other people. Now that was his type he decided.
“I’m happy with being best friends.”
In all fairness, he was probably the best fake boyfriend that a girl could’ve asked for. They had settled on knowing their relationship was best friends, but for others they had the additional label of dating. Sometimes though, he’d do something like grab her hand or wrap an arm around her. When those situations presented themselves, she always looked for possible viewers, his teammates. But based on her data, he only did things like that around 20% of the time when his teammates were actually watching. Meaning that the other 80% of the time he did the physical acts of affection, no one was around to watch.
While his English was practically perfect, he had the hardest time in social studies and history, so he got her help with his U.S. government class. He claimed that because he hadn’t lived here at all, and because he had Japanese citizenship that this class was completely useless for him. His defeatist attitude towards history made her roll her eyes at him.
One day, when she was intending to come over to help him, Emiko crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as he cleaned up his room. He threw his baseball socks and jersey into the dirty clothes hamper.
“She’s coming over then?”
He mumbled an affirmative answer.
Emiko got giddy, saying she’d make a good rich curry tonight for dinner and that he’d need to tell her to stay for dinner. He gave a wave and kept picking up his room.
When the doorbell rang, he ran to the door. Emiko chastened him and told him to calm down. He let her in, and she greeted his mom, giving Emiko the box of fruit her own mom told her to drop off. He complained in Japanese that she always went straight to his mom instead of greeting him first. Emiko in turn smiled at her while scolding her son again in Japanese.
Watching the conversation unfold, she shrugged, Japanese was just not her strong suit.
“How hard is it to understand a constitutional federal republic?” She looked over his essay answer to a prompt she had given him to practice for his upcoming test. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, chewing the end of a pen. She was leaning against his bed frame, reading papers and marking up his essay with her red pen. Each time she made another red mark, he grumbled. Of all the people she had tutored though, his handwriting was the best.
“Correct these things first, and then I can edit again with my orange pen.” She held up said pen while handing the paper back to him. He just mimicked what she had said, holding his own pen the same way she had held up hers, even going so far as to bring his shoulders upwards to make him appear smaller.
In response to the insulting imitation she grabbed her notebook and hit him repeatedly on the knee. He let out a pained ouch, and she felt bad, so she put the notebook away and just patted his knee instead.
“If you really loved me you’d just write out the whole essay and then I could just memorize it and cross apply the right parts for the actual prompt Mr. Henry gives in class next week.” Kenji adjusted his body position, and her hand wasn’t on his knee anymore but dead center of his thigh instead. He smirks, and she immediately retracts her hand.
“Good thing I don’t love you then.” Kenji presses his hand to his heart and sighs, falling back into his pillow. “Just do the essay Jiji.”
He lifted his head and repeated what she had said, “Jiji?”
“Kenji.” She says his name and enunciates the two syllables cleanly.
“I like Jiji, I think it suits me. It’s a cute nickname.”
He finished rewriting the essay while she poked around his room. Photos of him with his mom and dad, which she already knew not to ask about because last time she did he went total silence for two weeks. But then he felt guilty about ghosting and took her out to get a sweet treat everyday after school for one week straight. Trophies from his old school back in Japan for his baseball achievements. Multiple MVP awards from the games he had played here.
The other photos that were in his room were mostly of him and his teammates. He just didn’t look too happy in those ones, so she tried to skim them, but failed. His teammates did their best to make him seem like he was a part of the group, but it just didn’t click all the way. Kenji always looked too serious in the photos, or it seemed like he was actually looking at the baseball diamond instead of the person taking the photo.
There was an adorable little figure, made either of acrylic or vinyl, of a little superhero with a red and silver supersuit and a blue circle on the chest. She picked it up and inspected it. What she assumed was Kenji’s name was on the foot of the toy. She bent the arms of the toy and moved it around like it was flying midair.
Kenji had completely paused writing his essay in favor of watching her dart around his room. He clenched his jaw for a second when she picked up the Ultraman toy, then eased his body language when she started making the toy fly around. If only that’s what Ultraman really was, just a toy. Just a toy and not an impending responsibility to protect and serve the people of Japan from Kaiju monsters. He wondered if she’d ever want to live somewhere besides Los Angeles. Tokyo for example.
“Kenji! Curry! Get the applesauce from the cabinet please!” Emiko called out.
She set the toy down and turned around, but Kenji was already standing right behind her. He had only meant to watch her movements a little more closely, but now this was entirely too close. He played it off like he was adjusting the Ultraman doll, smiled and then opened his door for her to exit and head downstairs.
When he heard the steps trailing down, he silently screamed and raised his hands to the sides of his head. Then he dragged a hand down his face and carded fingers through his hair. He envied the self he saw in the photos, cool and nonchalant.
“So, are there any boys you think are cute at school?” Emiko ate another bite of katsu that was drenched in curry sauce.
She swallowed thickly for a second, “I- uh, no. There’s not many good options for dating material at a hyper-athletic school.” She laughed to cut the edge off the conversation.
Emiko drank some water, but then prodded a little more. Kenji wished the earth would open and swallow him up.
“Not even at a school full of athletes? I would’ve sworn there were some good options for you on Kenji’s baseball team. What was his name? Eric? Eli?”
“Ohh, Ezra Johnson?” She supplied, eating some applesauce and then tapping her mouth with a napkin.
Kenji looked to her, then to his mom, then back at her. He was trying to stuff his face with his food so he could exit the conversation and then drag her and himself back to his room. She seemed insistent on blocking out the whole fake dating thing from his mom’s view and perception.
“Yes! He’s a really nice kid! He actually greeted me when I went to the first game. It was so sweet of him. His mom and I got to know each other a little bit. I can send you his details if you want?” Emiko grazed the back of her phone.
“No!” Kenji burst. His mom and his fake girlfriend both looked at him. “Uh, Ezra is talking to this girl named, um, Claire. Yeah, Claire.” He held his plate up and his mom nodded.
Rinsing his plate off he put it into the dishwasher, then from behind his mom’s back he tried mouthing to her so they could go back upstairs but she was too busy still talking to his mom to notice anything.
When she finally finished eating, she said she needed to go back home.
“What about my essay though?” Kenji rested his forearms on the kitchen counter while she was busy doing the dishes despite having to gently fight with Emiko about letting her even do the dishes in the first place.
“I gave you enough content to work with, just do the corrections and you’ll be good to go.” She bumped the dishwasher with her hip to close it, and he wondered what her bumping into him would feel like. And then he groveled a little that he wanted to be a dishwasher for even a split second. “I need to do my own homework now, tell your mom thank you again for me, okay?”
She rubbed his arm to comfort him slightly, but he took his chance to reach to her hip, tugging her lightly into him.
“What are you doing?” She hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down in case Emiko was still lurking around.
“Saying thanks for the help, goodbye, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed the hand that she had on his arm and held her hand for a second, then brought it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to her knuckles.
She smiled, then pushed his shoulder.
When she had left the house, he flung himself onto the couch and giggled a little. Kicking his feet that were dangling over the arm of the couch. His mom peeked downstairs to see Kenji wriggling around and muttering. She just laughed a little. Maybe her instigation had worked out in the end.
The next week, she was hounded by baseball players after school.
She kept holding up a hand to cover her face, but they would not relent. Asking questions about her and Kenji. What Kenji was like outside of school, outside of baseball. If Kenji ever stopped being serious and aloof for even a minute. At this point they were just crowding her and not giving her the space to breathe.
She kept giving short curt answers, tugging her backpack straps closer and closer to her. At one point, one of them stepped on her foot and she winced a little.
It was like some kind of sonar sensor, Kenji could tell something was wrong. When he turned the corner, all he could see was his girl getting cornered by a bunch of idiots who didn’t even have his best interest at heart. The only reason why he asked her to fake date him was so that he could get out of dates with the girls his teammates had thought would suit him. The secondary reason was so she could avoid his teammates entirely. But clearly, the second reason did not go as planned because his teammates were a bunch of no-brainers who didn’t even really care about baseball.
“Hey, let’s go, I’ll drive you home today.” Kenji stuck his hand in between two of his teammates, and she grabbed it, so he was able to pull her out from the crowd they had made around her.
He strung two fingers around her jean belt loop and guided her to his car. When they finally sat down, and Kenji had started the engine, she let out a shaky breath. He put his hand behind her seat, and then moved his hand so he could lightly touch the back of her neck at her nape.
“Are you okay? I had no idea they would do something like that, I mean, it’s just completely ridiculous. I don’t even talk to them that much, if at all. And they treat me like some kind of foreigner, which I may be yeah, but really come on. That’s just herd mentality to the max. Ridiculous behavior, so childish.” Kenji kept talking while driving, she thought that maybe he needed a chance to really unload everything and mitigate the tension that had built up around him.
When they got to her house, he apologized again. And again.
“Don’t let it eat you alive, it’s all good, no harm no foul, if it makes you feel better, they totally reeked of body odor.” She chimed in after he finished his long wind of apologies. “And, um, what time is your game on Wednesday? My mom asked, she wants to hang out with your mom.”
“And here I thought you just wanted to see me completely kill the opposing team.” Kenji tried to lean out of the car just a little more, but his seatbelt kept him from getting his head out of the passenger side window. “I’ll text you. Get to your house safe ok?”
To her house from the car was approximately seven steps. The smile she gave him wrinkled her eyes and creased her nose just perfectly. He slid his hands up and down the wheel, smiling to himself as he started home.
The game went perfectly, he stole practically all the bases, and he made two home run hits. And an LA Dodgers scout was there. Once he got the documents and the scout shaked his hand, he was over the moon excited to play for the best team in the United States.
When he saw her with her mom and his mom, he just couldn’t hold himself back. In a second, he was hugging her and ranting about the scout continuously just repeating the experience over and over. Since his mom knew she would have a hard time prying Kenji off of his best friend, she just had to listen in to what he was saying, and she clapped when she had finally heard it all, celebrating from just far enough away to let them enjoy the moment.
His graduation was boring, she sat with his mom in the stands waiting for him to get his name called out. There were a lot of speeches, and she recognized the valedictorian from various library encounters, but for the most part everyone was a stranger to her. Emiko kept getting a call from an international number, but she didn’t try to ask about it.
Kenji barrelled through the crowd of graduates to get to his people, his mom and his best friend. When he started to talk about what he was going to do over the summer, his baseball camps and training, getting to meet the members of his team. His mom put a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the serious environment his mom had suddenly crafted. She backed away a little, but Kenji grabbed her hand and shook his head, telling her to stay for whatever his mom had to say.
“Kenji, your dad, he’s, your dad wants to talk to you. He’s, he’s on the phone.” Emiko couldn’t help but stutter a little, unnerved with how Kenji would react.
Kenji shook his head no, pulling her closer to him trying to use her as a crutch to prevent an interaction with his father from occurring. She looked between Kenji and his mother for a moment. Emiko with her tightened face and hand gripping the phone tightly said more than what her original request was saying. Emiko wanted Kenji to answer the call. So, she in turn encouraged him to answer it.
“Jiji, just answer the call. It’s your dad.” He felt betrayed.
“I’m not picking up the phone, I’m not talking to dad, and I’m getting a ride with a friend.” He pulls his hand away, despite missing her touch, and leaves his mom and her standing and stunned from his reaction.
Emiko pulled her into a side hug. “Thanks for backing me, you’re much more mature than I think people give you credit for. I have udon at home, call your mom and let’s have a girls night. I don’t think he’ll be home for a while. I’ll let him blow off steam today, but don’t think I’m soft on him, he’ll have some hell to pay when I catch him tomorrow.”
Patting the back of her head, Emiko went to the small electric van. She stood for a second, thinking about the space Kenji had just occupied. Maybe the family dynamic in the Sato household was more complex than she had anticipated, Emiko seemed to still love her husband despite them being separated. Kenji seemed adverse to and angry with his father, but Emiko didn’t carry any slight of resentment.
Girls night was a blast, including face masks and bad romance movies. Kenji got back around midnight, just as her mom and her were leaving his house. When she left, he was the one who closed the door after her. He gave a short pained smile and a wave. In her mind, it was a win because at least he wasn’t upset with her for taking Emiko’s side.
Summer was hot and burned the apples of her cheeks, leaving both sunburns and memories in it’s fragmented state. Kenji was busy conditioning for baseball practically everyday. Somedays he’d invite her out just to watch him play, so she could sip some icy lemonade and sit in the shade instead of being cooped in her house doing whatever it is that homebodies do.
It would be deceiving to say that she didn’t enjoy just watching him play. The way his baseball jersey would bunch at his elbows and shoulders when he hit the ball. Or the way he would run the bases each time he missed a throw from the ball machine. He still needed to get a haircut, so his bangs would completely cover most of his face, until he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and his almost snake-like eyes would study her from afar.
The best part was when he told her to move her legs a little, so he could sit on the row of bleachers in front of her. Eventually positioning himself to settle in between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs and his head was leaning on her torso. Although his sweat would lightly mark up her shirts when his hair dripped from his practice rounds, she still loved to be there for him in this capacity.
Either he was here with her or he would be at the diamond alone and angry. When he came alone, he would throw his bat when he made a mistake instead of just brushing it off and doing a lap. Somehow, doing baseball training alone while waiting for official LA Dodgers’ orders made him all pent up and out of control. So when she came to observe, it felt like he had more things in his control, his ability to manage.
“How are you gonna survive without me next year?” Kenji rolled his shoulders before getting his water bottle and guzzling down the IV infused liquid.
“Well, as far as everyone knows, we’re still dating, so I’ll have another year of free solo-ing the romance world at a hormone ridden cesspool.” She slid her backpack on, ready to start the trek home.
Kenji slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, then quickly switched which shoulder his bag was on once he saw which side she let her bag rest on, so that their bags wouldn’t bump into each other as he walked her home.
“You’re not gonna tell people we ended it?” Kenji sucked in some air through his teeth, readjusting the bag’s weight placement a little.
“Nah, it’s just easier that way. At graduation though if anyone asks how we’re doing I’ll say you found a supermodel that preys on greenie Pro-Baseball players.”
He nods, accepting the route she was going in order to terminalize their fake relationship.
“I was a good boyfriend though, right?” Maybe he asked so that he could feel out the possibility of a real one, or seeing what he could do better when he finally worked up enough courage to ask her out for real and for forever. For now though, he knew that friendship would satiate most of his yearning for her time and attention.
“Comparatively, to what I heard other girls went through, you were practically a saint. I mean, you never did press me into a couch so we could make out. Ruby held that over my head for the whole year once her girlfriend did that to her.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Kenji stroked his chin, “One last boyfriend duty for me to do before I get too busy, ya know?”
“Kiss me without permission and you're a dead baseball boy.” He held up his hands defensively.
“That was one time.”
“In the middle of the library, in front of a good majority of my friends, right after I had been begged to be a fake girlfriend.”
Kenji raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, “I do not recall begging.”
“You definitely begged,” She clasped her hands together and turned towards him, pausing their pace on the sidewalk for her to parody him, “Pretty please.”
She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted dramatically.
He rolled his eyes and tugged her hands so she would keep walking.
The postseason began around October for Kenji, and he made his official debut into the stage of professional baseball. Around the fifth game he played, he snapped. And that’s why he was sitting on her bathroom counter holding a bag of peas to the side of his face, while she dug through the closet just outside the bathroom looking for a first aid kit.
The catcher had just stepped out of line according to Kenji, messing up his at bat routine with his comments about his age, his inexperience, his lack of genuine talent. The first punch was Kenji’s, the second punch was the catcher’s and it rocked Kenji immediately.
Tasting the metallic blood in his mouth, he was just glad all his teeth were okay. He did feel bad for going to her instead of going home. But he knew that his mom would’ve killed him for hitting another player. The only reason why his mom wasn’t at this specific game was because she had some research files from years ago that his father needed, so she was spending the time trying to transfer data from floppy disks to USB drives.
She should’ve been asleep, or studying for her upcoming exams. He felt like an inconvenience and like a child who was being coddled, but he did feel like he was being fawned over by her which he could live with. Even the way she had reacted to him texting her and asking if she could help patch him up a little. She had sent nearly thirty messages, mostly angry, but also laced with worry.
“This might sting a little.” She reached up and pressed a cloth to his lip. He lurched away from the disinfectant, and she almost fell over due to having to reach up to get to his face.
“Hold on, give me a second.” Kenji got off the counter regardless of her complaints, she stopped complaining and was silenced once he swapped their positions, her sitting on the counter and him in front of her with his hands on either side of her hips, placed on the edge of the counter. “Better.”
She hummed a little, pressing the cloth to his face again, he tried to not lurch away this time. She put some triple antibiotic ointment on his lip and temple where there were some cuts. Putting some small star shaped bandages on his face where the cuts were biggest.
“All done!” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave a big smile.
Maybe he leaned in, maybe he didn’t. But their lips were definitely touching. When she pushed him away he realized he must have made a fatal error. So he decided to play it off.
“Sorry, a little faint from the fight earlier, not in my right mind.”
“Yeah, you, uh, you were just trying to, yeah.” She chewed the inside of her mouth.
Kenji helped her off the counter, and walked to her front door, ready to head out.
Holding onto the door, she stuck her head out and commented to him before he got too far away from hearing distance, “No more fights okay?”
He threw her a thumbs up before leaving her house. When he was safely back in his car, he did something that was all too familiar when he slipped up around her, he silently screamed and gripped his hair.
Years went by.
They stayed close, and he made sure of that. Baseball was going great, but no championships under his belt. She had graduated college, working at an office as an assistant. She moved out of her family home and got a shared apartment with some college friends who also worked in the main part of Los Angeles
Then, his dad hurt his leg, and everything went to hell. Hayao had called, telling Kenji it was finally time to take the name of Ultraman. He now needed to bear the gauntlet, the responsibility of keeping his home country safe. His mom just agreed, putting her hands on Kenji’s knee. Telling Kenji it was finally time for him to go home and be who he was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be Ultraman?
Baseball was his thing, he knew baseball and he was good at it too. Baseball felt like home, LA felt like his home, she felt like his home.
On top of all that, within a week of his father’s request and his mother’s urging, his mother had an accident. He had no idea what happened. Just that one day, Emiko was there and then she wasn’t.
He was depressed, and so he drank. His house was a mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, he was wearing the same clothes from four days ago. His toothbrush had become unfamiliar. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, staying in the dark and sulking.
When her mom found out about Emiko’s disappearance and presumed death, she called her daughter and told her to check in on Kenji. He had been distant lately, and she knew that the distance was a result of his grief. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she realized she hadn’t reached out to him in a few weeks.
His front door was locked, she had a basket of fruit and a stack of tupperwares filled with lunches and dinners for an entire week. She tried to think about what food were both comforting and had a lot of protein, so she made a variety of pasta dishes with extra meat.
“Kenji?” She knocked repeatedly, checking her phone only to see that her messages had been left on read. She called out for him again, knocking harder. “I know you’re in there Jiji.”
Opening the door made her grasp the gravity of the situation he was in. His hair was covering his face, he seemed to have recoiled into himself, wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt instead of his typical jeans and jersey thrown over a solid color tee. He smelled too, not of his usual mintiness and clean linen, but of all and any sort of alcohol. With eye bags darker than dirt, and hollow looking features, he just left the door open as he lurked back into his blacked out house.
Setting her gifts on his kitchen counter, she turned on the lights, and got to work. First the dishes, and then she picked up all the clothing and started a load of laundry. She made him a plate of the food she had brought, and a big glass of water and some Advil for the inevitable hangover he would have.
Lying on the couch, Kenji played with the hem of his sweatshirt. He tried to take another sip straight from a bottle of red wine when she stole it out of his hands. Whining, he told her to give it back and turn the lights off. She clicked her tongue.
“Eat this,” she handed him the plate, “Drink this,” she sat the water and pill on the coffee table. She tapped her foot, her arms folded in front of her chest. He groaned but did as told.
Satisfied with his actions, she dragged him upstairs and told him to take a shower. Hearing the water running, she looked around his room and cleaned it up. His passport, along with a one way ticket to Tokyo for one month out, was on the floor, covered by blankets that were strewn around. Opened letters were lying on the floor as well, pictures and clippings of ‘Kaiju’ attacks in Japan. Maybe she needed to brush up on her international news instead of staying in her little bubble.
Coming out of the shower with baggy clothes on, he dried his hair with a small towel.
“What are you doing?” He saw her holding the letters his dad had sent. He reached out for them, but she held them back and to her chest.
“What are Kaiju?”
Soon, he was sitting on his bed with her as well. He had the Ultraman doll in his left hand and a stuffed animal that she had given him some years ago in his right hand.
“Basically, I’m this, by blood,” He shook the Ultraman doll, “And I’m supposed to fight these back home. Since my father can’t anymore.” Laughing slightly, he slammed Ultraman into the stuffie repeatedly.
Her eyes were wide. She may not have understood everything about what he was, or what he was supposed to be doing, but she knew it was important to him to some degree. It was irrelevant that his dad needed him, the only thing he cared about was that his mom had asked him to take the step to become something he wasn’t sure of.
But the idea that her best friend was going to be a superhero? That he could change into some kind of robotic monster slayer? She had to disconnect a little from reality just to process the whole thing.
Suddenly, he thought of something that could possibly get him out of his funk. Something that could make his time in Tokyo, living an entirely new life bearable.
“There’s some extra rooms at the place I’ll be living in. I know that you want to go to some kind of graduate school. There are really good graduate schools in Tokyo.” He scratched the back of his head, if she said yes, then he would be truly mortified that she had seen him like this but he would also get to have neverending time with her on a day to day basis if she agreed.
“I remember none of the Japanese you taught me, I’d need to get a visa,” She started listing off all the things that would keep her from leaving, “But, uh, I think I’ll go with you. Yes.”
“I can handle the visa thing, you’re just going to need to sign some papers and have an interview with some people, and you’ll need to wear a ring on your ring finger. As for the Japanese, I’m a better teacher now than when I was 18.”
Getting married was not on her bucket list, but at least she could get better tuition at her graduate school for technically being a form of naturalized Japanese national. Her mom was glad to see her living away from LA, and she was grateful for Kenji going with her daughter. Her mom just didn’t know about the marriage for a green card/visa situation, and honestly, she didn’t plan on telling her mom.
The whole flight to Tokyo she was practicing her Japanese with Kenji. For the first time in a long time, he was actually happy. Not ready for the whole Ultraman thing, but ready at least to leave home and be out of LA. Los Angeles reminded him of his mother, every street sign, every restaurant, the greenery and flowers, it all came back to his mom.
What he had explained to her as the Ultrabase wasn’t just some place that he was staying at, it was a literal industrial modern masterpiece of a mansion. The sleek design ebbed and flowed into the molding of the island it resided on. Ceilings higher than a museum’s, she traced her finger along every surface trying to soak in the elitism of it all. He reclined himself on the ginormous couch, watching her observe the surroundings.
To him, she was the best feature of the homebase. Where most things were cold and stricken with a detrimental weight of his responsibility, she was like a beam of no expectations. She gave him the space to just exist without pressure. That and she was always fighting with his robot assistant MINA which also made each time returning back from fighting a little easier to endure.
“Listen MINA, I just think that you’d be more effective if you were pink, also can you pass me my pencil case.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on candy and working on an assignment from one of her professors on her Master’s Committee. MINA used an extended robot hand to fly over the pencil case that had been in her backpack.
“If I was pink, it would detract from my integrated design.” MINA floats around her head, observing her completed work thus far. “Your work is completely correct, why are you changing the grammatical structure?”
“For the love of the process MINA, for the love of the process.”
Kenji just ate another bite of his New York Strip, enjoying the free entertainment. When he finished his meal, he asked if she wanted to go out for an adventure.
Matching helmets, black and gold design with her wearing one of his extra leather jackets just in case. For safety he justified. The cool Tokyo air felt even colder as they rushed around the streets, lane splitting and cutting in between cars. The headphones had built in bluetooth so they were listening to a shared playlist they had made. Blending rap, RNB, pop, and EDM crafted the right ambiance needed for a late night drive.
In some ways, Tokyo was similar to LA. She reasoned that it might have been the lights to a certain degree, but here, the lights were brighter and bolder. Neon signs and air pollution were the common denominators between the two cities.
He takes a corner just a little too hard, and she instinctively tightens her arms around his waist, tucking her head a little closer to his shoulder.
They end up taking a break for a minute, pulling off the side of the road to grab some vending machine drinks. Tea for her, coffee for him.
That’s when his watch begins to blare red. She fidgets with the ring on her hand, she didn’t need to wear it around he told her, but the cool diamond gem had grown on her. Just as a precaution if the case workers came around to check on their ‘marriage’, that was the explanation she gave to him for why she always had her ring on. They never talked about why he always kept his on too, despite interviews asking and continuously pestering him about the ring. The baseball world had just concluded it was either a secret wife or for the style since he never gave an answer.
“I think you have to go do your whole superman thing.” She pointed at his watch that he was trying to ignore.
Kenji groaned a little, calling for a ride so she could get back to his place. MINA had already gotten to them by the time the watch had started to blare.
“Ken, it is time to mitigate the primary conflict in Shinjuku.” MINA did a bow with their robot body. She tried to throw a pebble at MINA to test for reaction time, that being said MINA caught the rock. She shrugged.
Back at the dungeon, also known as the Ultrabase much to her distaste for a name like that, she was surprised to see an elderly man with a crutch sitting on the couch in the central living room.
He was watching a big hologram screen, which now clearly looked like Kenji (in Ultraman form) fighting with a pink monster dragon thing. When he got a particularly nasty body slam she sucked in some air through her teeth.
“Ahh, hello strange girl in the Ultraman base.” He circled her for a moment, his crutch slowing down his assessment of her.
“Ahh, hi strange grandpa in the Ultraman base.” She waved, and the older gentleman introduced himself as Professor Sato.
“Kenji’s dad?” She checked.
“Yes, I’m his father.” She nods, getting a glass of water.
When Kenji gets back to the base, that’s when things get a little crazy. What was once a slimy egg turned into a cute komodo dragon mutant baby. She was all over the baby in an instant, trying to get to know it better.
“She’s adorable. I love her.” She was tapping the glass of the containment cylinder, cooing at the infant Kaiju. The baby seemed to respond positively, making little coos back and stomping around a little.
Kenji just folded his arms and took it all in. He was still trying to get rid of his dad, despite his father’s willingness to help out. He just couldn’t balance it all without Hayao’s help, he realized. Especially when Emi needed more assistance, and help avoiding the KDF’s insistent attacks. She loved Emi, despite the Kaiju having the ability to totally crush her, Emi reciprocated quickly to her. Considering the contrast in how long it took for Kenji to demonstrate that his Ultaman form and his regular self were the same through systematic desensitization.
They became a family, even if a family consisted of a pro-baseball player, his fake wife/best friend, an estranged but loving father, a Kaiju baby, and a robot assistant.
A learning curve consisted of a lot more mistakes and complaining, but at the end of it all, Kenji had to commit. He was Ultraman now. He needed to protect Tokyo. At least now he had a support system he could rely on. Slowly, changes occurred with him. Putting others before himself, really truly thinking about life and the value of other human beings. The catalyst was a Kaiju baby named Emi, especially the way that said Kaiju baby loved openly.
The misadventures of raising Emi were wild and laced with KDF fights, but in the end, Kenji and his dad were brought together by defending Kaiju in a unique way. The monsters weren’t intentionally villains, humans had just made them out to be like that. That’s life though, people defining and categorizing things into concepts and schemas that made sense to them.
That’s what his dad was doing when he and Emiko separated. Hayao was trying to find ways to open human eyes to the world and beauty of Kaiju. Living in tandem with them may not have been immediately possible but why shouldn’t it be ever given a chance? Professor Sato, his dad, wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he was trying his best to make the world a little bit better. Forgiving a father who he once believed left him wasn’t an easy road, but it was a path that needed to be traveled.
Saying goodbye to Emi was rough, yet, the Kaiju Island was close enough to go and visit on occasion. Baseball was great, winning the championship and going into a post-season diffusement.
Yet, Kaiju still came and wreaked havoc, and Kenji still had to fight and protect Japan. Even if that meant coming back to the base bloodied and bruised. She was almost always there, wrapping his arms in white bandages and wiping off blood with towels. Running ice baths and making cold soba noodles.
Which is what she was doing at this moment, rinsing the noodles in ice water and stirring a sweet sauce for Kenji to pour over rather than dunk his noodles into.
He was resting a frozen water bottle on his shoulder, hoping it would numb the pain, the Kaiju just had to try and rip his good arm off didn’t it?
“Hey, can I come in? Got your soba.” She knocked on the bathroom door using her elbow, since both hands were carrying bowls of soba with sauce containers precariously resting on her lower palms.
“Yeah, I’m wearing swim trunks.”
“Good because I’m not ready to see you naked, like, ever.” She chuckled, but pulled a chair next to the ceramic tub, breaking her chopsticks and saying a quick itadakimasu. He copied her, immediately drowning his noodles in the sauce she set on the edge of the tub. She rolled her eyes at his action.
He laughed a little, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, “What, it tastes better like this.”
She hummed an affirmative sound, but her eyes glinted with an agree to disagree conclusion.
The noodles had been fully digested, but she was still there, dipping her fingers into the water and making small swirls. The frigid temperature makes her fingers feel detached from her body.
Kenji lowers himself in the tub for a moment, getting his hair wet. When he came back up, she was pushing his bangs away from his face, smiling. Her hand stayed in his hair, brushing the strands away from his face as they dropped droplets down the back of his neck and then into the tub again. The ice cubes bumped into each other, melting slowly but steadily.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, uttering a few words, “Hot tub?”
She nods and heads out of the bathroom to get a swimsuit on.
The pool on the second to bottom floor of the base had an attached hot tub. He turned on the low lights, leaving the space in a warm brown shade of yellow light. The glass wall gave an outlook over the city and the ocean that surrounded the base.
MINA zoomed into the pool area, “Shall I put on some smooth jazz Ken?”
“No. Do not do that.” Kenji waved off MINA with red stinging his ears. MINA states they were just trying to speed up the whole process, and quoted one of her favorite phrases adding an addendum of MINA’s understanding and AI learning, “For the love of the process, especially if it's about love.”
The hot tub was warm, not quite boiling, but warm. She rested her arms on the outside ledge of the tub, looking out through the window. Kenji came to her side and replicated how she was positioned, before remembering that his shoulder hurt and gave out a small sound of displeasure. She giggled a little, rubbing the back of his shoulder where there weren't any distinct injuries.
“You’ve changed a lot since we were in high school.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head so that it was on her crossed arms.
“That’s what happens with time.” He wants to ask why she brought up his self-improvement. But she cuts him off before any words settle in his mouth.
“Yeah, but you’ve made a lot of great changes. You’re actually friends with your teammates now. And you’ve taken on this whole responsibility for an entire country. You aren’t just Kenji Sato, you’re also Ken Sato, and Ultraman, and I like to think you’ve fully embraced your father again, and not to mention our friendship.” She looks up at the ceiling, “You’re like an actual adult now.”
“I’ve been an adult for way longer than you.”
“But not like this, like an actual responsible person. You can juggle everything now.”
She sniffles a little, “Which is why I can understand if you don’t want me to stay once I finish my program you know?”
Kenji grabs a hold of one of her hands, “What the hell? Why would you ever think I’d want to kick you out?”
She shrugs.
He continues, “I hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with me. You know too much about my dark secrets.” She smirks in response to his teasing tone.
Kenji dives deeper into things he wished he would’ve said earlier.
“I mean, you already have the ring to prove it too.” Her mouth gapes open a little, raising an eyebrow.
It would be amiss to say that this wouldn’t alter everything, but it was time.
“I know that we’ve only ever been friends, but you need to know what I feel.”
“I think I already know.” She cups the side of his face, and he pulls her into him, and makes her face him. She’s sitting on the expanse of his thighs, and he looks up at her from how he’s leaning back onto the wall of the hot tub.
Wrapping arms around his neck, careful to not rest too much of her arm on his shoulder, she brings their noses to brush against each other.
“Mine now? Right? You’re mine now?” When she doesn’t respond he continues, “Pretty please? Mine?”
“I thought you said you never begged?” She grazes his lips with her own and he sighs with a light shudder in his chest.
“I’ll beg for this, for you.”
“Fair enough.”
He tightens his grip and pulls her flush to him. Angling his neck up and tilting his head, he kisses her. She smiles too much for it to be a proper kiss, but he keeps pressing against her mouth. When she stops smiling and starts responding with her own pressure of lips to lips, he has to suppress the hunger to bite her.
His tongue brushes against her bottom lip and she opens her mouth for him, he runs his tongue along the inner lining of her mouth before biting on the tip of her tongue when she tries to take her turn. He chuckles when she pulls back a little, nose crinkled and lips wet.
“C’mere.” He trails kisses down the side of her face, going to her neck and collarbones, glad that her swimsuit was low cut enough for him to graze the top of her chest, where the rise of her curves began. She just presses kisses to the top of his head while her hand tangles into the hair at his nape, twisting the locks into fake curls.
When their fingers were wrinkled from the water in the hot tub, they showered and curled up on his bed, watching a meaningless show.
“So, my thoughts are that we can just skip the dating thing and go straight to marriage since legally we already are.”
“My mom will kill me.”
“Good thing she loves me, just say we eloped.” He wraps his good arm around her and pulls her down to lay on the pillows. She snuggles into the silk blend pillow cases and murmurs a little, tired from a long day. He caresses the side of her face and rests his hand on her hip.
MINA flits around the base, erasing specific footage from the recordings in the pool room, for everyone’s benefit.
Kenji paced back and forth in the base, waiting for her to get back from babysitting Chiho, hoping that Ami’s date would end shockingly early for his benefit.
He’s still on the phone with her, “I don’t want to wait to see you.” He kicks a throw pillow that had fallen on the ground from the couch.
“Have patience, I’ll be back around one AM.”
“This is spousal abuse.”
“It really isn’t”
MINA chimed in and agreed with her, so she exclaimed and said that even a robot knows the truth that Kenji was just a little clingy.
“I think you should stop watching other people’s babies and come take care of your family. And by family, I mean me.”
“I know what you meant.”
He looks to the clock, three more hours of waiting would be excruciating. But at least she’d be back in time for him to wish her an extremely early happy anniversary with the new ring he got.
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kanekisfavoritegf · 3 months ago
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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin
MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED
SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.
Table of Contents
WORD COUNT: 2.3K
CHAPTER FIVE:
Your hands trembled as you fixed your dress. It was a plain black one that fell just above your knees, tight enough to hug your figure. Shiny black pumps complemented your outfit. 
You would have worn better had Kento not insisted on taking you on a date right after work that Friday. But you did your best with the little you had, the fanciest, most “seductive” work dress in your closet. The one that showed off the most cleavage. 
You were in the company bathroom, touching up your makeup before Kento whisked you away to whatever he had planned. Geto and Yuki had already left, and somehow, very conveniently, both you and Nanami had been given Gojo’s workload for that day to finish, making the two of you work overtime as the rest of the office emptied. 
Before you left the bathroom, you took one more glance at yourself. You looked good, a little fancy for work and underdressed for fine dining, but you were comfortable and felt good. 
Stepping out of the bathroom, you walked past Kento’s desk, each step deliberate and prolonged. Making sure that the slit in the back shows off the lining of the back of your stockings as you pass. As you passed him, you swished your hair slightly, giving Kento only a whiff of your shampoo. You didn’t turn to look if his eyes were on you. You already knew they were. You could feel it as you turned to sit at your desk and finally locked eyes with him as you sat down slowly. Something flashed within his eyes, a small fire igniting between you, but it was gone as fast as it came. When Kento turned back to face his computer, a slight smirk was now on his face.
It was not long until the both of you were done; Kento finished a minute before you and now stood leaning at your desk, watching you pack your things hurriedly as you tried not to drop any of your belongings under his intense gaze.
He was doing it on purpose, his intense gaze making you want to kick him a little. You thought you could handle his watching you until he leaned in closer, taking a strand of one of your curls and smelling it, his actions amplifying the tension in the room.
You dropped all of your pens and got to your feet, cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Hey!”
“Hey,” Kento echoed back, smiling like an idiot. He thought this was funny, but it only irritated you more.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Why would I do that?” He asked, taking a step closer to you. You stepped back, almost tripping on your desk, had it not been for the blonde grabbing you by your waist.
“Kento Nanami!” You slapped his chest, dropping to your knees and picking up the pens.
“Y/N, you are doing an excellent job packing up.”
“I thought you wanted to take me on a date.”
“Oh, I do, but someone gave me a boner, and I fear I may not be able to leave the office without shame.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. ‘Oh’.” Kento looked down, watching as you reached for the last pen that had rolled down further than the rest of the ones that had fallen, taking notice of the arch in your back and the way your hair fell to frame your face, “I think I quite like you on your knees.”
It's safe to say you hit your head on the desk.
“Are you sure you are a virgin, Kento? Because all of this dirty talk is giving me major whiplash.”
“This is what you call dirty talk?” He held his hand out to you, helping you to your feet but not letting you go. “I was simply being honest; I am sorry.”
Oh god, if this wasn’t his dirty talk, you could only imagine what he would say to you if under you, or on top of you or–
You snapped yourself out of your thoughts before your panties could dampen any more.
“Shall we go?”
“Yes, we should.” 
As the two of you walked through the streets, the street lamps lit Kento’s hand, drawing you in close. No words were spoken between the two of you, and it reminded you of the first walk you took with him.
It felt as though you were moving fast but also slow in a way. If Kento were nervous, he wouldn’t let it show. Down the street, you let him lead you to his house.
“You could have bought me dinner before taking me back to your bed, Nanami.” You joked.
Kento smiled; it made the skin at his eyes crease, paired with a soft pink blush on his cheeks and ears, and absolutely took your breath away. You felt your heart jump out of your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it made your head hurt. He was nervous, and even if he tried to hide, it was smooth flirting and a calm demeanour. Kento was nervous about taking you on a date.
“Instead of taking you to dinner, I thought I would make you some.” A hand reached the back of his neck as he scratched it awkwardly, “Unless you hate the idea! I can snag a table at the restaurant a few miles away?”
“No! No! Dinner would be perfect. At yours, I mean.” You rushed out, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward his building’s entrance.
Kento’s home was exactly like you remember: clean and tidy. As you stepped inside, Kento placed some house shoes in front of you and took your coat from you,
“Come sit,” his hand reached out to you, and you took it, letting Kento lead you into his kitchen and to the island chair, where he made you sit and watch.
“So what’s on the menu, Chef?”
“For your appetizer, you get a Charcuterie board, some pasta and salad for dinner, and maybe some dessert if you have room.”
“I always have room for dessert.”
Kento’s appetizer did not disappoint; taking a cheese cube and some grapes into your mouth, you fought a moan of pleasure from the taste.
“How long did this all take for you to make?” you asked Kento as he worked on cutting the tomatoes and basil. The pasta he had made from scratch was boiling in a large pot. 
“Well, I can not take credit for the Charcuterie board; I dropped the first one I made and ran to buy one from the store,” he said, ears red but his head down, avoiding eye contact as he chopped away. But all the other ingredients and preparing for the dinner aren’t new to me.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, I often cook for myself. Even as a kid, I have always loved food, and cooking is a great outlet.” 
How are you so perfect?
“I don’t think I am perfect, but I will take this compliment anyway, especially if it’s from you.” 
You would have died of embarrassment had the wine Kento offered you not been so good and strong. One and a half glasses was all it took for a buzz to hit you. Pushing the rest of your glass away, you focused on the passive way Kento’s body moved. It was almost like a dance; the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to above his elbow, but it was tight enough that you could also see how his muscles moved and flexed underneath the sweater. It was as if he was trying to slut himself out to you through the power of cooking. 
This is dangerous. He is dangerous, and you don’t even think he is fully aware of how badly you are attracted to him.
"Hey, Y/N." Nanami called you out of your horny daze with a deep voice, "Could you light the fireplace? It is pretty easy, but if you struggle, call me over."
You nodded, wanting to feel useful as Kento still worked on dinner. The kitchen soon filled with a wonderful aroma. The smell followed you all the way into his living room, leaving you undeniably hungry.
Turning on the fireplace turned out to be more challenging than you thought. On the lower corner of the fireplace, a golden square was bolted to its side, with symbols instructing how to light it. It was not complicated; in fact, it looked relatively easy. Yet, as you twisted the gas with the key, it continued to click without lighting. After your third attempt and failure, you called for Kento. 
"I admit defeat. It's not working," you said, your hands in the air, a dramatic pout on your face.
"You called at a good time. Everything is on a low simmer for another fifteen minutes, and then we can eat." 
You shuffled out of the way and watched as Kento twisted it quickly, lighting the fire instantly. "Show off." You muttered under your breath, not quite enough to go unnoticed by Kento.
"Is this how you talk to the man working tirelessly to make you dinner?" Kento asked plainly, sitting beside you on the soft of his cream rug.
"I don't know what you are talking about." You leaned into him, your faces inches from each other. Kento took a shaky breath, and you took this time to admire his face. I truly admire everything about it. Under the fire's glow, he looked even more handsome than usual. His hair was a little messy, unlike his regularly slicked-back style, with a few strands falling right above his eyebrow. 
He looked nervous, but it wasn't his face that gave it away. Per usual, he held no frown or smile, just a plain blank stare. His quickening of breath, his fluttering eyes, and the small gulp of saliva making his Adam's apple bob catch your attention.
So lost in your gawking, you had yet to realize just how much you had leaned into him and how much he leaned into you. 
“Y/N.” He rasped at you, watching as the dancing fire’s glow reflected onto your skin.
“Kento.” You said, your voice wavering in confidence as you did. 
“Can I kiss you, please?” You nodded silently, eyes focused on his and his eyes on your lips.
“You have to say it,” His hands now cupped your face delicately, “You have to say it out loud, Y/N. Can I kiss you?”
“Yes. Please.” You whispered, just like Kento. Your hands reached out for his face, too, but rather than stay still, you let your finger ghost over his lips, pulling on them slightly before pushing your lips against him. The hand that once cupped your face found the back of your head and pushed you deeper into him, and his other grabbed onto your waist, keeping you from leaving him. You fought off the urge to whine as the hand that held onto your waist squeezed you harder, and you pressed your tongue to his lips, begging for entry, something that he promptly gave. Your bodies moved and shuffled the longer you kissed, and you couldn’t take the throbbing between your legs any more. Slipping yourself on top of his lap earned you a deep and guttural moan from Kento. Your dress rolled up with you as your legs spread to make space for his body. 
The hand on your waist raised to your ribcage, his thumb pressing into your skin as he rubbed rhythmically. You whined into him as you felt the growing tent in his pants graze your clothed cunt. You could not help but push yourself into him while whispering. 
“Oh God, you are big.”
Kento’s eyes fluttered shut at your words. His grasp grew stronger at your ribcage and back of your neck as if it were some lifeline. 
“Oh Fuck. Oh, Christ. Don’t do that, I’ll come.” You only moaned into his mouth as a response, feeling Kento’s body shudder as you pressed down against his dick. Kento let out a string of breathy moans against the skin of your neck, keeping his head there as he collected himself through shaky breaths.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He repeated in the deep of your neck, still lost in his post-orgasm haze.
Up and down, you watched his chest rise and fall; it should be illegal to look this good after cumming during a twenty-five-second makeout.
“Feew” 
“What?” You asked, pulling away so Kento could raise his head.
“Food? I should go check on it.”
“Oh! Yeah, no, you totally should.” 
You awkwardly crawled off of him as his grip loosened, trying not to stare at the wet patch on his pants or the bulge that was still ever so apparent. You don’t know why you were acting like this. If anything, you should be confident. And yet here you are, acting like a preteen receiving their first kiss.
Kento returned a minute and a half later, wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt. Another shirt is still in hand for you.
“Why would you?”
“You have my cum on your dress.” He said plainly. Following the line of his gaze, your eyes came to see the spot where his cum had dribbled through. Your eyes wide, you got your feet, snatching the shirt from his hand and rushing to the bathroom.
Preview...
“I thought you said you wanted me to make you cum?”
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CHAPTER SIX: UPLOADED
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niqhtlord01 · 9 months ago
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Humans are weird: Do a human a “Solid”
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
On Xenthari it was both culturally acceptable and almost mandatory to participate in duels. They could be fought for honor, profit, social status, or for the sheer thrill of it should one be of that disposition. Participants could even choose champions to fight for them instead making the position of professional duelist a very lucrative occupation.
Lulu did not particularly enjoy the idea of dueling. She never was good with a sword and would more often end up losing, and she lacked enough funds to make hiring someone in her stead near impossible. At school she had few friends and the ones she did have would never volunteer to be her champions when she was eventually challenged to duels.
It wasn’t because she was actively searching for them. She rather liked her quiet life and avoided such confrontations that would lead to a duel being issued. Yet she was a social outcast and picking on her had been deemed a past time for some of the more aggressive students at her school. They would easily disarm her and then take great relish in attacking her.
Duels for those underage were different from official duels. One could not deal a lethal blow in underage duels. Rules stated that while surrender was a great dishonor, a duelist could surrender and forfeit the duel after being dealt one blow. Because Lulu hated fighting she would let her opponents get a blow in and then surrender. With that though came dishonor to her name and her standing as an outcast only further grew.
Lulu had resigned herself to this fate until one day a transfer student came to school.
Her name was Trisha Yulie, but she preferred to be called “Triss”. Her family had sent her to Xenthari after several “incidents” happened at her school back on her homeworld. They thought that being in such a drastically different environment and society would make her appreciate the things she used to have. Little did her parents know that the combative nature of Xenthari would only increase these tendencies; one of which introduced Triss to her new friend, Lulu.
The two had never interacted with each other until one day in the cafeteria Lulu saw Triss near one of the food dispensers. She was rummaging through her pockets and looking upset; Lulu figured the human did not have enough currency to purchase an item.
“Here.” Lulu said as she walked next to Triss.
She leaned forward and put a token into the machine and then smacked the side of it three times in certain places. The machine sputtered and beeped for a moment before a food package emerged from the dispenser. Lulu took it and handed it to Triss.
Looking down at the food Triss smiled as she gratefully took it. “Thanks,” Triss said as she followed Lulu back to a table, “was getting so hungry I started wondering if there were any horses around here.”
Lulu looked at Triss and something must have shown on her face as Triss realized she would have no idea what a horse was. She was just about to explain when a group of students came up behind Llulu and shoved her.
“Get up.” The leader of them laughed. “It’s time for your correction.”
Lulu didn’t need to see who had shoved her as she recognized the voice even before she stood up and turned around.
Ulia, the most popular student and heir to a wealthy transit corporation run by her family, gave a sadistic grin as her gang of lackeys laughed. She loved to pick on Lulu and normally she would have just allowed the duel to happen, but Triss had other ideas.
“Oi, fuck face!” Triss spoke up as Ulia shifted he gaze to Triss. “Me and my new friend here were having a conversation and you weren’t invited, so piss off!”
“How cute.” Ulia chuckled. “You let your dog speak for you now, eh Lulu?”
“Did she just fucking call me a dog?” Triss asked a still silent Lulu. “Have you looked in a mirror? Your face is so ugly it gets flagged for indecent exposure online.”
For the first time Lulu could ever remember she was Ulia’s face twitch in anger.
“I see that I need to teach our new exchange student here some manners.”
Triss sighed loudly. “I was going to give you a chance to apologize, but now I’m just going to kick your ass.”
The surrounding students pulled tables away to form a circle. Ulia drew her sword and activated its power field. The blade lit to life as it was enveloped by a green glow casting shadows across the room.
Ulia grinned as she drew the blade close to her face “Draw your blade so we can end this farce.”
To her surprise Triss shook her head and shrugged off her school jacket revealing a well-toned body of raw muscle. “Don’t need a fancy stick to beat you when I got these.” She shook out her hands and brought them up as clenched fists.
“Your funeral.” Ulia laughed as she took up a ready stance. One of her lackeys stepped between Triss and Ulia and acted as ref. “The duel will begin when I step back out of the ring. First one to verbally surrender or be rendered incapable of continuing the duel will be designated the loser and thus ending the duel. No lethal blows are allowed.”
With that the lackey stepped backwards beginning the duel.
Ulia lunged forward ready to run Triss through with the tip of her sword. Triss stood motionless for the last second until the blade was inches from her.
Pivoting to the side at the last moment Triss avoided the blade as Ulia’s forward momentum kept her going. She was about to spin her blade around when Triss drove a hard right punch directly into her jaw.
The blow was heavy enough to stagger Ulia as she tried to recover but Triss gave her no time. She was within Ulia’s guard in a flash and delivered another blow to the opposite side of Ulia’s jaw.
“Waaagh?” Ulia stammered as she stumbled back into the crowd of onlookers. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled more noises with increasing frustration but no intelligible words came out.
“By now you’ve probably realized your jaw has been completely dislocated from your skull.” Triss spoke as she circled Ulia. “I didn’t want you giving up too early; gotta lot of steam I need to blow off.”
Ulia shoved the people around her away and tried to shout something only for it to be slurred beyond recognition. She brought the sword down hard in a long sweep towards Triss but she backed away to avoid it.
Unleashing a flurry of blows each one capable of cutting through flesh, but Triss continued dodging them left and right like a prize boxer. She opened up another devastating blow to Ulia’s midriff causing her to vomit a large amount of fluid.
The crowd watched with horrified silence. Never had they seen a duel with fists before. It was something utterly foreign to them and had been taught to be barbaric. Yet here was a human who with only her fists was decimating a sword wielder.
Triss circled Ulia who had collapsed to the ground. “You want to give up princess?” she mocked. “Just say the word and…oh wait! You can’t much say anything right now can you?”
Ulia swept her blade for Triss’s ankles. With a swift motion Triss lifted her right foot and brought it down as hard as she could on Ulia’s hand holding the sword, crushing the wrist with a loud wet crunch. The blade fell from Ulia’s hand as she cradled her now broken wrist with her remaining hand.
Triss picked up the blade and inspected it. “What you think Lulu?” Triss called over to Lulu who was standing in the gathered crowd. “She started messing with you; want me to rough her up some more?”
Every eye in the crowd suddenly turned to look at Lulu. Lulu’s mouth opened to speak but nothing came out as Triss continued.
“I wonder, how much credibility do you think you’d lose if you were cut by your own blade?”
She held the blade out against Ulia’s cheek as her eyes went wide. “Bet you’re little groupies here might bail on you.” Triss leaned down and whispered to Ulia. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what your family would say?”
Tears of pure teal formed in the corners of her eyes as Ulia tried to speak only for Triss to shush her by putting a finger over her mouth.
“If you don’t want that to happen, I think you should leave me and my friend alone from now on; else the next time we have this little dispute you won’t end so peacefully.”
With that Ulia nodded and collapsed to the ground.
“Looks like she can’t continue,” Triss announced proudly, dropping the sword in, “I think that means I’m the winner.”
The crowd parted as Triss walked back to Lulu and put an arm over her shoulder. “I think we were having lunch before all that happened, want to get back to it?”
“Ssssure.” Lulu stammered as she let Triss lead her back to their table. As the pair sat down she finally worked up the courage to say “Thank you.”
“For what?” Triss remarked as she tried to pull open the food package Lulu gave her earlier.
“For standing up for me.” Lulu replied. She leaned over and pressed a button on the package and it flash cooked the meal and opened itself.
Triss nodded her thanks and began digging in. “You did me a solid so I do you one; tit for tat.”
“So because I got you lunch you fought a duel for me? Lulu asked, astounded when Lulu nodded.
“A solid is a solid, doesn’t matter if it is equal or not; that’s what friends do for each other.”
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barcaatthemoon · 8 months ago
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atlas || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||
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mapi and ingrid help you relax after a rough week.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
the physical and emotional weight of your workload was dragging you down. mapi was the first to realize it, and once she did, the first person she went to was ingrid. ingrid had a way of relaxing you that mapi knew she couldn't pull off. the woman had a tendency of being a little too energetic for that. however, it seemed that this time, ingrid couldn't really help you either.
they both hated it, but mapi and ingrid had no choice but to wait for all of you to be on a break to bring it up. a lot of things had been happening at barcelona, so you were very busy as social media director. your promotion had seemed like a blessing at first, especially since it meant that you could travel with your girlfriends everywhere that they went. however, all of that travel really cut into the time you had to organize everything else.
"i miss her," mapi sighed as she watched you fast asleep on the couch. it was obvious that you hadn't meant to fall asleep like that with your laptop and several notebooks open. you had been working, despite ingrid and mapi's insistence that you come with them out for the day. they had tried to have a good time, but mapi couldn't knowing that you were still in the apartment.
"it's been hard, especially on her. i mean, look at her," ingrid said as she nodded towards you. mapi let out a little whine as she looked at you. even in your sleep, the stress of your job was evident. they knew that this was temporary, mapi remembered when she first signed to barcelona years ago when you initially had been brought in as an intern. you always had a bit of a struggle starting out, but eventually, you'd find your footing.
"i could cry," mapi muttered quietly. ingrid had just barely heard her. if it was anybody other than you, ingrid would have been deleriously jealous of the way that mapi loved and cared for you. she knew that while mapi had been dating her for longer, you had been in her life longer. you were one of mapi's best friends first, and so, ingrid knew what to expect.
"we can let her sleep, and then do something special for her tonight," ingrid suggested. mapi nodded as she let ingrid pull her away from the living room. you slept the entire day away, waking up only when mapi physically picked you up and carried you into the dining room. you were still very tired as you ate, but the food did a lot to energize you a bit.
"what's the occasion?" you asked, not missing the way that both of your girlfriends were dressed up a bit more. mapi shrugged the question off as she tried to pretend that everything was normal. ingrid, however, was more than happy to give a reason for the little show.
"we are celebrating you, and all of the hard work you've been doing lately," ingrid said softly. she got up to carry your plate into the kitchen for you, kissing the top of your head as well as mapi's as she passed.
"i'm sorry if i haven't been very attentive," you apologized. mapi shook her head as she took your hands in hers. "i've been busy, and i know that you hate being left to your own devices. you need me too, not just the club."
"it's okay, i understand, i do. tonight, don't think about any of that. let ingrid and me take care of you, please bebita." if it wasn't for the way that mapi as looking at you, you might have gone back to your work for the night. "you've been working so hard."
"i'm so tired of it," you admitted. you sounded like you were on the verge of tears, so mapi did what she knew would help you calm down. she dropped your hands to grab your cheeks, pulling you in gently for a kiss. you kissed her back, moaning into it as you felt her deepen it. you sat forward in your seat, like you were prepared to crawl into her lap at any moment. the two of you could have kept going forever like that until ingrid interrupted you.
"come on, let's move this to the bedroom." ingrid guided the two of you away from the table. you broke the kiss with mapi once you were in ingrid's arms, turning your attention to her instead. ingrid picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, walking strong despite the kisses you were pressing to her neck. mapi followed behind ingrid, taking the opportunity to feel her up on the short walk to the bedroom.
ingrid laid you down on the bed gently, and mapi moved around her to get behind you. almost immediately, you could tell how the night would go. it was rare that they both focused solely on you, but you were grateful for the distraction. it wouldn't last forever, but they'd be taking a good amount of the weight of your work off from your shoulders from the night.
mapi's hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently as she peppered the side of your face in kisses. ingrid was laying between your legs, effectively pinning you against mapi's body as the two of them kissed you. it was a lot, but you were more than happy to just go along with whatever they wanted.
you trusted both women with your body completely. they knew the things that you liked, and sometimes, you swore they knew what you needed before you did. on your own, you would have tried to rush things, but they were taking things so slow with you. even mapi, who had a tendency to get a little ahead of herself in these situations.
they took their time undressing you and themselves. the feeling of their skin against yours made it hard for you to think. mapi could tell that you were having a hard time keeping up, so she backed away just enough for you to focus on ingrid. the taller woman kissed you slowly, but it wasn't without an almost overwhelming amount of emotion.
you didn't know how she did it, but ingrid always kissed you with her entire being. from every little peck as she left the apartment to the way she'd completely take your breath away. you swore that you could feel the love and concern ingrid had for you as she kissed you. it was enough for you to get a little lost in the feeling of her lips, but still gentle enough for you to easily slip away if you needed it. ingrid wouldn't judge you, knowing that occasionally you weren't up for this sort of thing when you were stressed.
"you look so pretty kissing ingrid," mapi whispered in your ear. she turned towards ingrid before she spoke up again, "you're taking such good care of our bebita, ingrid."
"i want more, please," you told them. mapi took that as her cue to come back a little more. her hands moved along your sides until you moved them onto your breasts. mapi's fingers teased your nipples as your hips ground against ingrid's thigh. ingrid bit her lip as she felt how wet you already were from just kissing them. it was going to be easy to get you to cum for the first time, and while ingrid wanted to spend all night between your legs, she wouldn't push you any further than what you could handle.
"do you want my fingers or my mouth, bebita?" ingrid asked you. she was usually adamant about not speaking spanish in the house, but that pet name had always stuck. technically, mapi had been calling you her bebita long before either of you had figured out your feelings for each other. ingrid remembered her hesitation about seeing mapi because of you, and in hindsight, she felt a little ridiculous about it now.
"mouth please," you answered. ingrid gave you one last kiss before she moved down to lay in between your legs. mapi turned your head towards her, pulling you into a gentle kiss as ingrid's hands came up to rest on the insides of your thighs.
unlike ingrid's kisses, mapi's rarely ever managed to stay as gentle as they started. the press of mapi's lips against yours quickly turned into something much firmer, not that you minded. you nipped at mapi's lip a little, which earned you a slightly rougher pinch to your nipple than before.
"mapi," ingrid warned. mapi's cheeks heated up at the warning. you bit your lip as she moved around your body to press a kiss to where she had just pinched you. ingrid watched as your hips bucked forward at the contact. she shot mapi a look, one urging for the tattooed woman to stay there until you pulled her back for more kisses.
"do you want this bebita?" mapi asked you. you could still feel enough of mapi's body behind you to feel safe and comfortable, but that need was quickly being replaced by the feel to feel both of their mouths on your body.
"please," you whined. mapi didn't need to be told twice, and she mvoed back in with her mouth at the same time as ingrid. mapi peppered your breasts with kisses as her fingers teased your nipples. ingrid's tongue was making lazy figure 8 motions in between your legs, just barely grazing along where you wanted her to. the two of them worked together well, almost perfectly in sync despite not having had to talk one another through anything.
"shh," mapi cooed softly as she lifted her head a little. the noises you were making quickly began to jumble together. you were whining and whimpering as you started to move more. ingrid didn't want to grab your hips and pin you down, so mapi took it upon herself to kiss you to calm you down. your nails scratched against the side of her face a little, but mapi didn't let it distract her from swallowing up every moan and whimper that threatened to escape from your lips. "you're doing so good, it's okay. let ingrid do her thing."
"fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated again and again. mapi felt your body tense on top of hers, and that was when she knew you were gone. as loud as you could be while being fucked, you always went dead silent when you came. ingrid began to back away, stopping only when she heard you and mapi talking to each other. the little confessions of love after sex were secrectly mapi's favorite. if she was ever asked, you knew that she'd say something cocky about the way you looked cumming on her fingers or strap, but truthfully, she loved the way you curled into her as the two of you showered each other in love and adoration.
"rest now," ingrid said as she took the spot next to you on the bed. mapi slipped away to get something to clean you up with as you and ingrid lazily made out on the bed. you were so tired, enough so that you were ready to fall asleep right there in her arms. ingrid kept you awake and distracted enough for mapi to clean you up and pick out some clothes for all of you to wear to bed.
"thank you, i think i needed this," you mumbled against ingrid's chest. this time, ingrid laid in between you and mapi, both of you with your head resting against ingrid's chest. ingrid had one hand on mapi's back and the other in your hair, both of them scratching lightly. "i love you, both of you."
"we love you too," mapi told you. she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair around her finger.
"whenever you need us, don't hesitate to ask," ingrid said. you glanced up at her and smiled. you couldn't help it, there was rarely ever a time you could remember not smiling when you saw ingrid. "we'll always be here to take care of you, in whatever ways you need."
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vbecker10 · 5 months ago
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Hey, I was wondering if you could write a Loki one-shot where the Avengers are invited to a very fancy party, even bigger and fancier than Tony’s parties, it’s in a huge restaurant and all and the female reader is very popular singer, like VERY, who has her own huge concerts and all and she agrees to sing on the event. Loki and Peter are both Avengers.
Now, I’m not saying anything romantic about Peter, because he’s literally a teen boy, I just love when Pete is a cute little shit, so maybe he is huge fan of the reader.
And Loki also takes liking into her and after some time Loki and reader will meet again and blah blah, you decide from then. Just don’t make it smut please. My pure ass heart can’t take it. Just fluff.
I know that you have written something similar to this, about that hex girls or something, but I want the reader to be a solo singer and worldwide popular and not just to sing at Tony’s party, but at something as huge and fancy as this event.
If you don’t like the idea or just don’t want to write it, it’s okay! I love your writing so much btw♡
—xoxo
Melody of Mischief
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: The Avengers are invited to the Battle of New York Charity Gala and it is the event everyone who is anyone in Manhattan wants to attend, except for Loki. Peter is uncontrollably excited as he tries to explain to the God of Mischief that the singer performing at the gala is his absolute favorite artist, Y/N. Loki remains unconvinced he will enjoy even a moment of the evening until he has a chance encounter with the rising star and realizes you are even more amazing than Peter had said you would be.
A/N: OMG I love this request! I absolutely love Loki and Peter together but I've only gotten to write them interacting once or twice so I am super excited about this. I'm sorry if it seems front loaded with the two of them but there is plenty of Y/N and fluff, I promise. Lol thanks for specifically requesting a one-shot cause I have a tendency to make things way too long... this is still really long though lol. Thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it! 💚
Thank you @siconetribal for help with the title! 💚 if it were up to me, my stuff would never have one haha
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Loki sighs in annoyance as he closes his book. Placing it on the coffee table, he gets up to answer the frantic knocking at his door.
"What do you-" he begins to ask as he opens the door. Before he can finish his question, Peter has walked right past him and into his apartment.
"Hey Loki," he says cheerfully as he pulls off his jacket and throws it haphazardly over the back of the armchair. Loki watches the teen drop his backpack on the ground near the couch and begin pacing quickly around the living room.
"Hello Peter," Loki greets him, trying to push aside his irritation. Had it been his brother or another member of the team, he would have swiftly removed them from his apartment but the young Avenger had begun to grow on the God of Mischief in recent months.
"Did you hear the news?" Peter asks with a wide grin.
"I assure you, I have heard nothing today that would make me anywhere near as excitable as you currently appear to be," Loki responds as he uses his seidr to pick up Peter's discarded bag and jacket, placing them on the hooks by the door.
"Sorry about those," Peter apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I don't dislike when you visit but I will insist my space remains orderly," he reminds the teenager and Peter nods. "Now, what is this news?" he asks as he takes a seat on the couch, picking up his tea while Peter wanders into the kitchen.
Loki sighs hearing the fridge open. "They are on the bottom shelf," he calls to the hungry teen. "And the cabinet to the left of the stove," he adds knowing exactly what Peter is in search of.
"Thanks," he calls back then returns moments later with a small bottle of orange juice, a bag of pretzels and two pieces of string cheese.
"I still refuse to believe that is or ever was cheese," Loki says as Peter opens the plastic wrapper.
"These are fantastic," he insists with a smile, pulling apart the cheese. "Why do you keep buying them if you don't eat it?"
Loki takes a sip of his tea, refusing to voice the obvious answer that he buys them specially for Peter's visits. He teen laughs but knows not to push his luck and instead focuses on Loki's question.
"They finally announced who's going to be playing at the big gala tomorrow night!" he says, plopping himself on the couch next to Loki who holds his mug tightly to keep from spilling any of the hot liquid. Peter pauses a moment for dramatic effect but the God shows no signs of curiosity. "Oh come on, don't you want to know who it is?" he asks in disbelief but Loki only shrugs in response.
Peter gets up, unable to contain his own excitement. "How could you not care? It's going to be epic! The best party on the year, maybe the decade," he says.
"I am a thousand years old, I have been to a great many parties, Peter," Loki reminds him then takes a sip of his tea. "And besides, I am not sure I would like to attend a charity event that is being held to raise money for victims of my attack on the city."
"Right..." Peter says slowly, lowering his eyes to the ground but then he looks back at Loki. "Actually," he starts again and Loki can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. "If you don't go... it might be seen as disrespectful, you know? You attacked the city when you were under the Mind Stone's power, everyone knows that but if you don't show up at the fundraiser they might not think you are... what's the right word?" he pauses, trying to pull in the God of Mischief.
"Remorseful?" Loki guesses, knowing what the teen is trying to do.
"That's it," he says, thinking he has the prince where he wants him.
"You make an interesting point," Loki acts as if he is truly considering it then adds, "But I am still not going."
"Ugh!" he groans at Loki's lack of enthusiasm. "Come on! The artist they picked is amazing! She's my favorite. I can't even believe she would agree to do this. She usually plays only massive, sold out concerts. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to see her, especially not at something like this," he says as he jumps onto the wall then the ceiling. Loki can't help but cringe at the scuff marks the teen leaves behind as he moves above him.
"You still don't know who I'm talking about? It's Y/N," he says as he jumps back to the ground.
"I have no idea who that is," Loki replies as Peter sits next to him.
"What!? How could you not know who she is," Peter asks in shock. "I play her music every time we're in the lab together. You were humming one of her songs yesterday."
"It must have wedged itself into my mind after you set it on repeat," Loki says, unwilling to admit it was a very catchy tune with surprisingly deep lyrics. "It doesn't matter who is playing, I will not be attending and that is final," Loki states, setting his mug down on the coffee table.
With a mouth full of pretzels Peter asks, "Seriously?" He swallows quickly and continues, "I told you, it's going to be the biggest party ever. How could you not go? I would give anything to go but I can't." He sulks on the couch, arms crossed.
"Why would you not attend?" Loki asks as he gets up, walking into the kitchen to put his empty mug in the sink.
"I didn't get invited," he shrugs, "I'm only an intern for Stark Industries, remember? Spiderman got invited but I can't wear the suit and mask the whole night. I won't be able to eat or drink plus people always try to get me to take it off and it just gets really annoying."
Loki sighs, looking at the upset teenager on his couch. "Do not make me regret this, Peter," he says and the boy looks up, his eyes full of hope. Loki shakes his head as if he can't believe what he is about to say. "Fine, I will go... and I will bring you as my plus one."
Peter sits up straight, the excitement returning but it quickly fades and he says, "It's too late for me to get a nice suit to wear."
Loki says, "I can help with that as well." He snaps his fingers and a black suit appears in a garment bag on the hook next to Peter's belongings.
Peter gets up and before Loki can react, he pulls the God into a tight hug. Loki doesn't hug him back, his arms trapped under Peter's and after a second he says, "That is quite enough of that, please let go."
"Oh yea, sorry," Peter says taking a step back. Loki smooths out his dress shirt but Peter can see the hint of a smile on his face when he looks back at him.
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Loki steps onto the red carpet wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with matching black dress shirt and tie. Peter is close on his heels in the suit Loki conjured for him. "This is the coolest thing ever," the teen says loudly over the shouting of onlookers, reporters and photographers.
"You were correct, this seems to be quite the event," Loki agrees through gritted teeth as he tries to ignore the questions the reporters throw at him as he passes.
"Loki, did the Avengers force you to come tonight?" "Loki, is coming to the charity gala part of your probation or was it your idea to come?" "Loki, do you have anything to say to the victims and their families?" "Loki, did you donate any money to the foundation?"
Peter looks around in stunned silence when he and Loki finally pass through the tall double doors. The large hall is bursting with people and activity. Across the two side walls are long bars staffed with dozens of bartenders making complex drink orders for the rich and powerful of New York. Fabric drapes the walls in different colors and shades, creating an ombre effect around the room. At least fifty round and rectangular tables fill the middle of the space, crisp white table cloths cover each one. Place settings have been carefully set at each seat with a small name card indicating who each one is reserved for. At the very back of the hall, is a stage with a cleared space in front of it and Peter knows exactly who that is for.
The teen takes out his phone and begins snapping pictures of the room, no longer able to contain his excitement. Loki looks around the crowded space and is quickly filled with regret for having agreed to come. He can't push down the feeling that every person in the room is either looking at him or talking about him. He shouldn't have come, he thinks as he looks towards the doors.
Peter grins from ear to ear, unaware of Loki's internal struggle. The teenager stands directly in front of Loki and holds up his phone, "Smile."
Loki looks down at him and before he can say anything he is struck by a bright flash of light. "Did you just take a picture of us?" he blinks quickly.
"Yea, a selfie," Peter nods with a laugh.
"Delete that," Loki orders as his phone vibrates. He removes it from his pocket to check the message. "How could you have sent this to the entire team already?" Loki groans as he begins to receive responses from his brother and the other Avengers.
Peter shrugs then see Steve and Bucky through the crowd. They wave for him to join them closer to their assigned table and he gives them a thumbs up in return. He looks happily up at Loki who puts his hands in his suit pockets and says, "I will join you all shortly. I wish to wander for a bit first."
Peter says, "Okay, see you in a bit."
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Loki walks past one of the bars but he is not looking for a drink, he is looking for a place to alone before he is stuck at a table with the team for the remainder of the evening. He moves to a far off corner where the fabric that is draped from the walls is darkest. He sighs contently, thinking he has found a secluded place to breathe.
"This hiding spot is taken," you tell the tall, well dressed man as he approaches you, crossing your arms against your chest. The last thing you want before your performance is to deal with anymore boring socialites.
"Oh, my apologies," he says as he notices you and you see the disappointment on the prince's face. "This is quite a large venue, I have no doubt I can find my own hiding spot before we are called to our tables," he smiles politely and turns to leave.
You realize he hadn't been looking for you, he had truly been searching for a place to avoid the crowd of people chattering away. He begins to walk away and without thinking you call after him, "Wait." He turns back towards you. "It's a pretty big hiding spot," you laugh awkwardly, "I think we can share it unless you wanted to be by yourself?"
"I would never turn down the company of a beautiful woman," he smirks.
"I heard you were a charmer, Prince Loki," you can't help but giggle as he stands close to you. "Or do you prefer 'your highness'?"
"Loki is fine, please," he insists with a laugh. "I do feel as if I am at a disadvantage though," he says and you look up at him. "You know my name, but I do not know yours."
You stand silently, stunned by his words. Does he really not know who you are? You have tried not to develop an overly inflated ego but it has been years since you've met someone who hasn't recognized you immediately. When your first single hit the number one spot three years ago, your career took off and you have been in the spot light ever since. You've spent the last year touring dozens of major cities in the United States, Canada and Europe. You are on magazine covers, you have done countless interviews on talk shows, you are even booked to perform in Times Square for New Years Eve in a few months and the God in front of you has no idea who you are.
Loki chuckles at your silence and says, "If you will not tell me your name, I will be forced to continue calling you 'beautiful'."
You blush as you are pulled from thoughts, "That works."
"So what are you hiding from this evening?" he asks as he leans on the fabric draped wall behind him.
You shrug, not wanting to give away who you are just yet. "My boss," you tell him a slight fib, hoping the God of Lies won't notice. You were hiding from your manager and his new assistant. Mark was a good manager, but he insisted you met as many guests tonight as possible before your performance. Their fake smiles and rehearsed complements were tiresome, you slipped away the first chance you could. You wanted to meet real fans, people who actually enjoyed your music, not these stuffy rich people.
Loki nods at your short answer and you ask, "Why are you hiding? I assumed a prince like you must love big parties like this."
He smiles but looks down as he smooths out his suit jacket and you can't help but notice how perfectly it fits him. "I used to enjoy the balls quite a bit on Asgard," he agrees, "But I admit I am having a difficult time with the idea that this event is for the victims of the attack I led last year."
You cover your mouth with your hand. "Oh my god," you say slowly then lower your hand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't... I should have realized that."
He shrugs but remains silent.
"I guess it's kinda weird that they invited you in the first place right? Like why would you want to go to a fundraiser for a disaster you caused?" you ask and he nods, putting his hands in his pockets nervously. "I'm sorry," you say again as you realize how uncomfortable you've made him.
"It is alright," he says. "You are not the first person to wonder why I am here tonight and I am sure you will not be the last."
"That's not what I meant," you tell him but you can see his eyes searching for a new place to hide. "How about we talk about something else?" you suggest, not wanting him to leave just yet.
He looks back at you after a moment, seeming a bit more relaxed, "What would you suggest we talk about, beautiful?"
You giggle at the pet name he has decided on, "Umm..." You look around and see the stage. "What do you think about who's going to be performing?"
He looks at the stage as well than back at you and you can see there is still no connection between you and the singer in his mind. "I have heard a great deal of wonderful things about her," he says. "Peter, my..." he pauses as if he is unsure of the next word, "I suppose we are friends but do not tell him I said so."
You laugh but he seems serious, "I promise I won't."
"Peter is a tremendous fan. He listens to her music a great deal," Loki says then he looks down and chuckles. "He is the only reason I am here to be honest. I knew how much he wanted to see Y/N perform so I brought him with me."
"Aww, that's really sweet of you," you smile and he shakes his head but you can see he seems happy with his decision. "Do you like her music too?" you ask, trying to remember the last time you had been able to get a truly honest opinion from someone.
He nods and your heart beats with excitement. "She is quite talented," Loki says. "I seem to have Black Bird stuck in my head quite a bit lately, but that may be because it is Peter's favorite. He plays it on repeat when he is thinking."
"That's a pretty good one," you agree. It was one of your most popular songs and you were set to play it tonight, as you do at every concert. "Do you have a favorite?" you can't help but ask.
"Hmm," he thinks for a moment then he smiles when he decides. "Crystal's Edge," he says.
"That's my favorite too," you reply enthusiastically. It has never been as popular as some of your other songs but it has a deep, personal meaning to you.
"You have good taste," Loki says and you laugh at the irony of his complement.
Your smile fades when you see Mark watching the two of you. "I'm sorry, that's my boss," you point towards him and he folds his arms against his chest as he frowns at you. "I have to go, but I really liked talking to you."
"I enjoyed speaking with you as well," Loki says. He takes your hand and gently places a kiss to the back of it causing you to giggle. "I hope you are able to enjoy the rest of your evening, beautiful, but if not I am more than willing to hide with you again."
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Loki pulls out the chair next to Peter and the teen asks, "Where did you go?"
"I was talking to-" Loki begins to explain but before he can continue, the stage lights come on and the overhead lights dim slightly.
"Y/N is starting!" Peter says excitedly and Loki leans back in his chair to watch the performance before the food is served.
You walk out on stage and the guests cheer and applaud, their energy thrills you. TV cameras move into place and you wave to the audience and the cameras with a smile. You take the microphone off the stand and thank everyone for coming to support such a worthy cause. While reciting the speech Mark's assistant prepared for you, your eyes scan the guests until you spot the younger prince of Asgard.
Loki's eyes are fixed on you in shock and when your gaze meets he leans towards the teenager next to him.
"Norns," Loki whispers to himself then he leans towards Peter. "That's her! The woman I was speaking with."
"What?" he looks at Loki then the stage, still clapping as you finish your speech. "You met Y/N!?"
You smile, trying to keep from laughing at the boy's quick double take between Loki and yourself. Looking towards the band hired to play with you got the next few concerts, you nod to signal that you are ready for the first song to start. Moving with the rhythm of the intro, you sing the opening lyrics of one of the first songs you ever wrote. Your heart races as you dance across the stage, singing proudly with your backup singer next to you.
The second song is a crowd favorite and as the music begins you find Loki in the audience again. He smiles, tapping his fingers on the table to the beat and you get an idea. "I would like to dedicate my next song, Black Bird, to a very big fan of mine," you say into the mic and you watch the teen bounce in his seat. "Peter, this one is for you."
Peter laughs excitedly, barely able to contain himself as he signs along with Y/N loudly and out of tune. Loki smiles to himself as he nods his head along with the rhythm of the song.
You perform your next three songs, feeding off the energy of the guests as they sing along with you from their seats. A few move off to the side of the space or between tables to dance in pairs or small groups. You move back to the center of the stage and prepare yourself for your last song of the evening.
You look out into the crowded room and easily find Loki who hasn't taken his eyes off of you for a moment. You turn quickly, walking to the drummer who signals for the other musicians to join you. They nod at your request and you ignore the questioning look your manager gives you as you return to the center of the stage.
"Sorry for that," you apologize to the crowd. "I originally planned on closing my performance this evening with Glass Roses but I've decided to play my personal favorite instead." The intro for Crystal's Edge begins and Loki smiles as he leans forward in his seat. "This song has always held a special place in my heart and tonight I would like to dedicate it to someone I hope to meet again soon."
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You slip away from your manager much easier than before and head to your previous hiding spot, hopeful Loki will be waiting for you. You can't help but smile when you see him leaning against the wall, watching you approach him.
"Hello again, beautiful," he says with a smirk.
"Hi Loki," you blush, thankful to hear the pet name again. "Did you like the show?" you ask, feeling nervousness spread through your body.
"Very much," he assures you and you relax instantly. "And I must say, Peter greatly appreciated your song dedication. I'm not sure I've ever seen the boy so happy."
"I'm glad he liked it," you tell him happily. "I was hoping I was right in assuming he was the person you were sitting next to." He nods and you take a step closer to him, out of the view of the guests. He puts his arm around your waist to pull you closer, your body just inches from his.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was," you say as your smile fades slightly and you look down.
"Don't be," he replies, touching your cheek to bring your gaze back to his. "I can imagine you rarely meet someone who is as unaware of your fame as I was. I admit, I feel a bit foolish for not having known who you are."
You shake your head, "I actually really liked that you had no idea who I was, it's been so long since I've met anyone who didn't recognize me. It was fun to talk about my music with someone honest about their opinions."
"I understand," Loki says. "I can see how it would be nice to speak with someone who did not have any preconceived opinions about you."
"Exactly..." you agree then pause. "Oh, I guess you have the same problem... seeing as how I knew who you were."
"At least you are known for being tremendously talented," Loki complements you again and you feel a blush creep up your neck and cheeks. It has been so long since you felt as if someone was giving you genuine compliments and Loki seems to have a never ending supply. His smile falters for a moment and he adds, "I am known for... being the reason we are all here tonight I suppose."
"Loki," you say quietly and touch his cheek but he looks at the ground between you, "You are known for more than that." He shrugs and you can feel him pulling away emotionally even though his arm is still around your waist. "Loki," you say again and he looks at you but you can tell his smile is forced, you have done that yourself many times.
"I apologize," he says and clears his throat. "I think they are enough people here talking about me and the damage I have caused to this city. I would rather learn more about you."
"We can talk about me in a minute," you tell him with an anxious smile. You see a flicker of nervousness cross his face but he hides it quickly. "I'm sorry if I said anything before that upset you," you say and he shakes his head, "I didn't mean anything bad when I said I was surprised you came tonight. I just..."
"We don't need to discuss it," he says and he removes his hand from your waist.
"Please," you put your hand on his arm and move closer to him. "I'm sure there are people here who don't think you should have come... but I'm really glad you did," you say and he smiles slowly. "I can't imagine how hard tonight must be for you but the reason I didn't immediately think of that the first time we talked is because I don't think you are to blame for what happened. Everyone knows about the Mind Stone, although I doubt we know everything, and anyone can see how hard you've been working with the Avengers. When I said I knew who you were, it was because of all the news stories of you saving people over the last year. You're a hero, you know that right?"
He smiles genuinely as his arm wraps around your waist again. "Thank you, beautiful," he says. "You don't know how much it means to hear that."
"You're welcome," you smile then reach up and kiss his cheek to the surprise of both of you. "I- I hope that was okay?"
He smirks and nods, "It was more than okay, although I had thought I would ask to take you on a date before I kissed you."
"You want to ask me out?" you ask, sounding more shocked than you meant to.
"Unless," Loki pauses, concerned by your shock, "I've misjudged something?"
"No, no," you say, shaking your head and you can tell that is not helping his confusion. You laugh, "I'm sorry, I just... it's been a really long time since someone asked me on a date."
Loki looks at you, his eyes searching your expression for an answer to the question he is now unsure to ask again. "I would love to go on a date with you, Loki," you tell him with a smile and he pulls you flush to his chest. He leans down and kisses your lips softly.
He strokes your cheek gently with his thumb and you look up at him, you can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable with someone. You suddenly realize there is something you should warn him about. "Umm..." you mumble and he tilts his head questioningly. "I just want to prepare you for something."
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"What's that, beautiful?" he asks, his hand on your lower back begins to move slowly up and down.
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"I know your pretty famous," you say and he nods reluctantly, "But... and I'm not saying this to sound full of myself or anything... but when I go out anywhere, I tend to get followed by paparazzi. I'm thinking if we go out together, they'll swarm us."
"Oh..." Loki says as his hand pauses on your back.
"I still want to go out with you," you promise quickly, hoping he doesn't think you are changing your mind. "I just wanted you to know it won't be just us. I don't know if... are you okay with that?"
He smiles, "I would be fine with that so long as I was with you but I think I have a solution to that issue."
It's now your turn to be confused.
He chuckles, "There is a reason there are so few sightings of me outside of missions. I am a trickster god, remember?"
You blink in shock, "I didn't... I guess I didn't really think about it. So do you just make yourself invisible or something?"
He laughs again but shakes his head, "I could but no. I have learned humans become nervous when books and other objects move around them but they cannot see what is causing it."
You giggle, "Okay, it's not weird to be freaked out by that. So how do you go out without people noticing you?"
Loki smiles as his seidr surrounds him briefly with a faint green glow. His long, black curls become lighter and shorter, thin black framed glasses appear on his face and his suit changes from black to blue. He still looks like Loki but if you passed him on the street, you would most likely not have looked twice.
"I can create an illusion for you as well," he offers.
"That's... amazing," you laugh. "You look like a hot college professor."
"Thank you," he chuckles, looking down at his suit as he straightens his blue stripped tie. "I only showed you most of the illusion. To others, my face will also appear different but I was concerned that would be a bit... much?"
You nod, "I'm glad you still look like you, I like your face."
"That is the sweetest thing you have said tonight," he jokes.
You kiss his cheek again and ask, "So I guess I can't call you Loki when you look like this right? It's kind of a unique name."
"Generally, I go by Tom when I wear this illusion," he informs you.
"Tom?" you repeat.
"Too dull?" he asks, sounding unsure of his choice.
"I like it, you look like a Tom," you giggle. "Its nice to meet you Tom, I'm Y/N."
He kisses the top of your head, "I believe I will continue to call you beautiful."
You smile up at him and he slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling your lips gently to his. You grip the fabric on the back of his suit jacket and kiss him deeply. When you finally break the kiss, something catches your eye.
"Shit," you say when you see Mark approaching you and Loki.
He looks towards your manager, then looks down at you and says, "I know the event is not over for a few hours, but how would you feel about our date beginning now?"
"Really?" you ask.
He smirks, "If you would like, I will take you anywhere you want to go."
You reach up and kiss him again then say, "All I want to do is sit in a cafe and get to know you better."
"Done," the God of Mischief smiles as his hand begins to glow, changing your appearance to everyone but other than himself. He keeps his arm around your waist and together you walk right past your very confused manager and out of the party.
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Text
I’m a Screamer, Baby, Make Me a Mute
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Quarry era
Warnings: Poorly written smut, degradation, premature ejaculation, borderline stalking
Summary: Daryl has never been with anyone sexually, his only examples having been Merle and pornography. When he decides he’s out of time due to the end of the world, he sets his eyes on you. He’ll do whatever it takes to have you.
A/N: I’m a little more proud of this than I should be. It was really out of my comfort zone but I really love how it turned out. Written for @dilfsandmartinis
gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
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He had waited and watched and watched and waited. You, traipsing around in those cut off shorts that ended perfectly over the contour of your ass. And that tight tank top that hugged your figure, smoothing over every curve. He could almost conjure the perfect image of your bare breasts going off of how the top fit you alone. 
You had gone down to the water to wash up. He knew that because he had been watching you. He knew your routine from the moment you crawled out of your tent until you disappeared back into it. 
He knew he couldn’t wait any longer to have you. He had done everything that Merle would do when he was chasing a woman he’d eventually take to bed. He would cat call as you walked by, swearing that after you glared at him, you’d sway your hips a little more prominently as you walked away. 
He’d casually lean against the nearest tree while you helped gather wood for the fire, humming appreciatively and licking his lips when you’d acknowledge him. “Wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t take notice of a nice piece’a ass.” You would usually call him a pig and throw a stick at him. “Feisty. I like that.” He’d adjust himself through his pants right in front of you. 
The truth was, he had no idea what he was doing. He’d never been with a woman before, but knew the basics thanks to his brother’s tendency to indulge in female company nearly on a nightly basis. Sometimes more. Daryl would watch through the cracked door, studying how Merle would interact with his partner of choice; what he would say, how he would touch her. Didn’t seem like much fun for the woman but his brother didn’t seem interested in anything other than getting his dick wet. 
Now, Daryl wasn’t trying to be a creep. He just wanted to be ready. The porn Merle would watch was informative enough about what goes where but it seemed like more of a performance than anything. He needed something a little more personal to go off of and Merle was the perfect specimen to study. 
Daryl had been willing to wait, biding his time for the opportunity to present itself; preferably when his brother wasn’t around to critique the skills he’d picked up. Then the world ended. Realizing death could decide to punch his card so easily was a great motivator. Dying a virgin wasn’t an option. 
So he followed you. He’d never take you against your will. Even Merle’s morality extended that far. But he’d sure make it hard for you to say no. 
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against a tree, skillfully hiding the fact that his heart was pounding a tattoo into his ribs. You were getting things ready to clean yourself up; laying out your fresh clothes and a towel, pulling the hair tie from your ponytail. He was getting hard just from the anticipation alone. 
When you popped open the button of your shorts, you decided to look around and make sure no one had wandered down. Daryl wasn’t even trying to hide. Merle never would. When your gaze located him, your eyes widened and then narrowed. You didn’t move to rid yourself of the shorts. 
“Well, don’t let me stop ya. Was enjoyin’ the show.”
“God, you’re disgusting.” You snapped, still eyeing him. “Okay, you can leave now.” He sauntered down to the water’s edge a few feet away from you.
“Why the hell would I do somethin’ stupid like that?” He drawled, blue eyes roaming up and down your body. He was fighting hard to keep himself still, to not shift from foot to foot— an action that helped ground him when he was especially anxious. Merle would never. “Y’can go ahead with whatcha was doin’.”
“With you gawking at me? I don’t think so, Dixon. Y’know, there are ways to treat a lady that work a lot better than being a disgusting pervert.”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, mulling over your words. He could try your way, but he’d never seen Merle gravel for pussy. And he always got it in the end. “Don’t see no ladies ‘round here.”
“Oh, really? Yeah, not interested.” You started to gather your things, much to Daryl’s chagrin. “I’ll bathe some other time. Maybe bring one or two of the other women with me.”
“Hell yeah. That’s what m’talkin’ ‘bout. I can handle a couple’a ya. Maybe even three.” He reached down to palm himself through his jeans. He was almost achingly hard but the strained fabric kept it from showing too much. 
“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna throw up.” You shoved past him and stomped back toward camp. 
Once you were out of sight, his shoulders slumped. A swing and a miss. He knew his brother though. Merle wouldn’t stop there. He’d pursue and persuade. 
And that’s exactly what Daryl planned to do. 
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He followed you again the next afternoon when it was your turn to look for berries or mushrooms that were edible. His mouth watered each time you’d bend over to inspect something before crouching to pluck it from the ground and add it to your bucket. 
“Shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.” He stated casually, strutting up behind you. He had to restrain himself from making a grab at your ass. “Ain’t safe.”
“Yeah, from lechers like you.” You retorted, not even turning around. 
The hunter tilted his head, studying your backside, round and plump. Just right for gripping while you rode his cock. Your thighs were smooth with that small gap in between. He desperately wanted his face buried between them, letting you squeeze his head while he tasted you. His cock was already responding to the debauchery running rampant in his head. He’d never seen Merle go down on someone but men seemed to enjoy it in the videos he’d watch. 
“You just gonna stand there and stare at my ass all day? Or are you gonna go and shoot something for supper tonight?” You queried in a flat tone. 
“Darlin’, there’s no way m’movin’ when you’re shakin’ your ass in front’a me like that. Pract’ly beggin’ me to give ya what a lil’ slut like you wants.” 
The bucket sat abandoned on the forest floor. You straightened and turned, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. “Is that what you think of me? That I’d just drop everything and jump on your dick?”
“S’what I know.” The confidence in his answer was nearly betrayed by a tremble in his frame as you stalked closer. 
“Think you’re man enough for me, Daryl?” You stressed his name, stopping yourself right in front of him. He’d never heard his first name roll off that tongue and through the partition of those pouty lips. “Think you can give it to me hard and fast until I’m screaming?”
“Fuck yeah.” He answered too quickly. His voice had dropped an octave; gravelly and breathy. His blue eyes watched you move and before he could register what was happening, your hand was cupping his erection over his pants. 
“I don’t usually let a man anywhere near that would talk to me like you do.” You smiled and gave his clothed cock a generous squeeze. “There’s something about you, though. I can’t put my”— you squeezed again—“finger on it.”
Daryl closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Fuckin’ tease.” He managed. Your hand retracted and he longed for the feel of it to return. Eyes opening, you had removed your shirt; no bra left your breasts exposed to his gaze. He gulped, his confident expression wavering in the slightest way. 
“Come on, Dixon. You’ve been talking a big game. Let’s see how good you really are.” You purred, palming him over his pants yet again. 
Eyes on your chest, he felt a sensation stirring; a strong tingle at the base of his spine that branched out swiftly to map through his veins and straight to his cock. He managed to stifle the sound but had to slap a hand against a nearby tree to stay on his feet as pleasure pulsed through him, his warm spend emptying into his underwear in suffocated ropes. 
He didn’t even wait to bask in the after effects of such an orgasm, snatching your wrist to pull your palm away from his oversensitive cock. “Maybe next time.” He growled, hoping that he had played off what had just happened well enough that you would continue to be curious. 
As it was, he was mortified. Merle would laugh at him tirelessly and crack every joke in his arsenal with Daryl being the punchline. His brother could never find out about this. Returning to the tent, he gave Merle a middle finger when the elder Dixon started complaining about how the others in the camp didn’t appreciate him. Daryl was in no mood. 
His face was burning with embarrassment while his underwear remained against his skin. He rid himself of the ruined article and hid it under his bedroll. He’d burn it later when he was sure his brother was sleeping. Merle could not find out. The camp couldn’t either. 
The shame was enough without involving others. 
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Daryl left you alone for a couple of days, in hopes of maintaining that mentioned curiosity. Thankfully, it appeared no one knew anything about his plight a couple days earlier. He chose to believe that meant you didn’t either. He waited until dusk, when you would head down to the water’s edge. Just enough light left for it to be safe, just enough shadow to hide from any prying eyes. 
He found you just as he had days before, this time choosing to go down to where you stood instead of hanging back by the trees. 
You stood straighter and looked toward the sky. “God, why do you hate me? What is it, Dixon?”
“Hang on, let a man enjoy the view for a minute.” 
“The view would have been a lot better the other day if you hadn’t decided to leave me standing there, topless!” You hissed in a whisper, as if anyone else was listening.
“Calm down, woman. Just makin’ sure was me ya wanted. Lil’ whore like ya could’a been ready to jump on any dick.” He stepped forward and let his hands hover over your hips, moving his gaze up to yours with a questioning brow arched. 
“Well?” You stared at him expectantly. “Touch me, goddamnit!” You didn’t wait and pulled him forward, crashing your mouth against his. It took all he had not to moan against your lips. His first kiss and with a beauty like you. He realized in that moment that he wanted to worship you, cater to your every desire. He wanted you to know how much and how long he had wanted you. 
But that wasn’t what you what attracted you to him. You wanted brash and rough and insulting. You wanted Merle in Daryl packaging. 
So that’s what he would give you. 
Roughly pulling you away, he spun you to press your back flush against his chest. “Easy does it.” He growled against your ear, nipping at the lobe. You let out a sigh and your head dropped back against his shoulder. “Desperate lil’ whore. Can’t wait for that cock, can ya?”
With a smirk he couldn’t see, you pushed your ass back against his groin, making his dick twitch. “Seems like your cock can’t wait for this pussy.” 
Daryl bit back a groan, his hands coming up to grope your breasts hard enough to be painful. That familiar feeling was back again, a heat pooling in his belly with electric jolts stirring at the base of his spine. He was biting his bottom lip so hard that his mouth soon filled with the metallic taste of blood. Your petite hand wrapped around his wrist and guided it into the front of your shorts. The second he felt that wet heat through the fabric of your panties, he was gone. 
He had enough cognitive function to yank his hand free and push you forward, palms on your shoulders shaking as the orgasm tore through him. He was incredibly thankful that there wasn’t enough light for you to see what promised to be a wet patch on the front of his pants. 
“Too fuckin’ eager for me t’night.” He ground out, spinning on a heel to start stomping away from you. “Let’s see how long a lil’ slut like ya can manage ‘fore any cock in this camp’ll do.” He didn’t turn to see your face. He couldn’t, lest you see the mortified embarrassment coloring his own expression. 
Another failed attempt. Another pair of underwear to burn. 
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It didn’t take long for you to turn to other means of scratching that itch. He sat, cleaning his bolts, watching you flirt shamelessly with his brother. Bending over in front of the man and practically wiggling your ass in invitation. Of course, Merle responded. The elder Dixon gave your backside a firm slap. To your credit, you were great at feigning offense. 
You stormed away from their camp only to return sometime later, sitting yourself so close to his brother that your thigh was rubbing against Merle’s hip. You leaned in while the man talked about nothing in particular. Some racist garbage that even Daryl wouldn’t entertain. The second your fingers reached for Merle’s jaw, Daryl stood straight up from his perch. 
“Y/N!” He barked, fighting off a smirk when you flinched and turned those big eyes toward him. “Need to talk to ya.” He was already heading into the trees, his sharp hunter senses picking up your steps behind him. He’d show you that he could be just as appealing as Merle. He’d be better. 
When he felt the two of you were far enough from camp and saw no signs that his brother had followed, he rounded on you to shove you roughly against the nearest tree. “Was right, weren’t I? Need that lil’ cunt filled so bad that ya’d let any man take ya.”
You huffed in obvious annoyance. “No. I’m just trying to make you jealous enough to actually fuck me.”
Daryl gulped. He knew this was his last chance. You’d get tired of games and he was tired of playing them too. He released you and stepped back. “Take off your clothes. And hurry it up ‘fore I change my mind.” He didn’t touch you while you undressed, your lust-blown eyes never leaving him. He couldn’t touch you. If he did, it would be a repeat performance of the last two encounters. He scrambled at undoing his belt, separating the two ends so he could free his already painfully hard cock. “Better be wet cause I ain’t in the mood to waste time gettin’ ya there.”
He didn’t, either. The moment you were bare, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you. Your ankles locked over his ass while he guided himself to your entrance. Thank god, he found you to be slick. He drove into you with a moan, gritting his teeth to keep from cumming right on the spot. “Fuckin’ slut.” Merle was never tender or accommodating, slamming into his prize the moment her legs opened to him. Dary did the same, hard thrusts that had the sound of skin slapping echoing through the trees. He was already about to burst. “Say it. Say what a slut ya are.”
“I’m a slut. I’m a fucking whore! Fuck, Dixon!” Your fingers grasped for his neck, his shoulders. Against everything he knew, he wanted to bring you to your high. He’d seen how it could be done in those pornos. But there wasn’t time. 
With a choked off moan, he pulled himself from you, ropes of cum dousing your ass and the tree behind you. He let himself feel it, reveling in the euphoria that slammed into him in waves so hard that he thought he might black out. 
As he drifted back down, he quickly dropped your legs and stepped back to tuck himself back into his jeans. Shame colored his cheeks. He thought he might throw up. You’d likely tell everyone what a lousy fuck he was, lasting all of two minutes. He was no longer a virgin but he couldn’t celebrate it. “Get outta here.” He hissed. 
You smirked at him. “Not bad for your first time.” You remained naked, leaned back against the tree with your legs apart to give him quite the view. “We can try again if you want and I can show you how to really fuck a woman.”
He stood there, hands on his belt though his fingers felt suddenly inept. “Ya knew?” Yep, he was definitely going to throw up. 
“Of course I did.” You chuckled. Your hands began to roam over your body. Watching you already had his cock stirring back to life, half hard and approaching aching. “You can still call me a slut. It’s hot.” You sauntered toward him, smacking his hands away from his belt. 
Daryl watched you pop the button of his jeans open once again and drag down the zipper. “Fuck.” He groaned when your hand wrapped around him, stroking him to fully hard. “Ya really are a fuckin’ slut.”
“I can be.” You purred, licking a stripe from his collar bone to his jaw. He shivered but managed to scoff and turn his head, though his eyes slid back over to stare at your bare breasts. “And this slut is gonna give you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 1 month ago
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I've been reading your Erikar posts and I think that they work really well with the idea that moirallegiance really doesn't work the way it's "supposed" to. It's framed in-universe as a very one-sided "stable person pacifies dangerous person" deal, but both Erifef and Gamkar, which are basically platonic ideals of that concept, failed independently because of how unstable that dynamic is -- one person is worn out doing all the emotional labor and the other is not interested in being pacified. Whereas the meowrails, despite also being framed as a "classical" moirallegiance, are much more clearly two-sided, as both parties consistently help, listen to, and advise each other, and the relationship is consequently much stabler and more enduring. I love the way you frame Erikar because it works really well with this by showing both parties taking and giving "pacification" and support in turn, instead of one shouldering all the work.
Yeah! I think this is a good way to talk about something Hussie likes to do that I'm a huge fan of, which is: unreliable narration. This unreliable narration has garnered Hussie the reputation of being a "troll" or even flat-out "wrong" about HS, and I find both of these to be very unfair because the use of unreliable narrator is both deliberate AND thematically fitting.
As part of Homestuck's post-modern stylings (and I mean post-modern in the literature sense, not vis. art, though it has shades of that too), it plays heavily on the ideas of narrator-as-character, author-as-character, metafiction, and we-all-know-it's-a-story-itis. Hussie himself, even in his external commentaries (Formspring, Tumblr, Books, etc.), is fully aware that his additions add to the metatextual texture of the work and change how it's interpreted - that, although his additions technically lie external to the "story" Homestuck is telling, they are also paradoxically part and parcel of that very story.
As a result, they deliberately play a character WRT Homestuck, both in- and out-of-universe, and this character is, by their own admission, buffoonish and oafish. It's really apparent in their book commentary, where they'll sometimes even drop the act, or "realize" they've dropped the act and hurry to put it back on (a standout moment is when he provides a very genuine, honest analysis of Vriska, before going "oh, wait, I forgot, she's literally my wife and has never done anything wrong ever in her life ever"). They also mention how their narrative voice sometimes works antagonistically to the characters, such as when it assures Vriska that she has no choice but to kill Aradia, subtly pushing Vriska towards that option.
Functionally, neither the narrator nor the author (and by that, I mean the caricaturized character of "the author" that Hussie plays) of Homestuck are entities that you can take fully at face value; they need to be challenged and interrogated as much as any other character, have their motives dissected, have their blind spots pointed out.
And why would this need to be the case? Because that's literally one of the main thrusts of Homestuck: malicious entities (in HS's case, LE, Doc Scratch, and Caliborn, who at various times struggle with Hussie for control of the story, before killing him and wresting it away entirely) will attempt to write the narrative. They'll push their version of events, their politics, their biases, their philosophies. They'll try to change the story to suit them and perpetuate their own power and ability to enforce that power. And you can't let them win.
Hussie-as-a-character/narrator himself is not particularly malicious, and, as the narrative prompt serving as Caliborn's guide, is even ultimately sympathetic, expressing that kids need to grow up and mature, achieve self-actualization, emotional catharsis, etc.
However, as a result of his oafishness, he has a tendency to play to the characters' worst instincts, to pick favorites among the cast. The most blatant example of this is his "love" of Vriska, which - contrary to popular opinion - isn't "real". Hussie is not actually in love with Vriska; the whole thing started because - due to misogyny - people accused Hussie of only giving Vriska so much plot relevance because he was literally in love with her. Why else would a female character with an unpleasant personality be allowed to be important, amirite? And Hussie clearly thought that this whole thing was so ridiculous that he 100% leaned into it as a joke. I'm not here to litigate whether or not it was appropriate to do so, just to point out that Hussie's "love" of Vriska was always an artifice - an aspect of Hussie-as-character that he played up to highlight the fact that Hussie-as-character is an unreliable buffoon, and, by extension, that Vriska is not blameless and perfect.
Since this is the Eridan blog, I'd be remiss not to talk about him. Hussie's commentary towards Eridan is especially fascinating to me, because Eridan is one of he characters Hussie-as-character is biased against, in a similar way as he's biased in Vriska's favor. Thus, his attitude towards Eridan is very dismissive, both in the book commentary AND in the comic itself. "Gamzee: Indulge emotional theatrics" and "Jade: Answer this douche bag" come to mind. He also spends the vast majority of the Act 5 Act 2 book mocking Eridan for being sad and alone, with nobody to care about him and nobody who listens to his problems.
Now, the reason I call this fascinating is twofold: the first is that his commentary in the Act 5 Act 1 book has a WILDLY different tone: while he's still biased in Eridan's disfavor, he outright calls Eridan a "good character" alongside Nepeta, and offers genuine insight into his characterization and the powers of Hope - comparing him at one point to Dave if Dave took a much darker path.
So when his attitude changes from "he's a shithead, but fairly complex, I guess" to "he's a loser idiot that nobody likes LMAOOOO", you're supposed to notice that! You're supposed to question that, to wonder why he has a change of heart, why he's suddenly so dismissive of a character he was genuinely writing whole paragraphs about before.
And the answer is multifaceted:
He's playing up his buffoonish character, to let you know that he's about to be wrong as hell. Every time Hussie starts really amping up the Hussie-as-character persona, you're about to be in for an opinion that SHOULD NOT be taken at face value.
He's reflecting a common fandom opinion, because one of his favorite things to do as an unreliable narrator is to speak on behalf of another character or entity, highlighting the biases and blind spots in play - in this case, the audience's. Again, he's about to be wrong as hell, so he's doing this specifically to indicate that the audience members who believe this are also wrong as hell.
Act 5 Act 2 is when we get the one conversation in all of Homestuck where somebody (Karkat) cares about Eridan and takes his problems seriously. During this part of the story, Hussie goes COMPLETELY silent. This is incredibly out of character, as he usually can't shut up, and the commentary is usually dense, packed with words, without pause. Compare:
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In those blocks of silence are contained the conversation Eridan has with Karkat where Karkat literally tells him "I know it's hard being you" and that Nepeta's rejection of him wasn't a negative reflection of him. In other words, Karkat cares about Eridan and takes him seriously, COMPLETELY contradicting Hussie-as-character's assertions that nobody does, so utterly that Hussie-as-character has to completely shut up during that entire sequence because he has no way of reconciling his stance with the evidence presented.
Now, Hussie-as-an-actual-person is completely aware of what they're doing, or else they couldn't do stuff like this so consistently and so precisely. So I want to be very, very clear that this is not Hussie "not understanding his own story" or whatever BS the fandom likes to say in order to cast Hussie as the villain. This is masterful usage of unreliable narrator, like, I'm genuinely impressed.
By acting a clown and insisting that nobody likes or cares about Eridan, the audience is MEANT to glean from the text:
That Karkat is clearly an exception, and he quite likes and cares about Eridan,
That those who are dismissive towards Eridan and treat him purely as an object of ridicule are Wrong as Hell,
That maybe it's not a good thing for us - both audience, author, and characters - to be so quick to judge and dismiss others just because they're annoying and nasty - that doing so can have dire consequences, as we see with how Eridan's story plays out.
And I'm not kidding when I say that we have to be constantly fucking vigilant, that there's very, very little that can be purely taken at face value. Not long after this is one of Karkat's memos, where he attempts to warn his past friends about all the murders, only to dismiss past!Gamzee by saying that current!Gamzee going crazy murderclown "barely even concerns [him]." Hussie then notes in the commentary - and not for the first time - that Karkat has a Problem(TM) with not seeing past/future versions of people as contiguous with their current selves, which he does as a defense mechanism so as not to confront his own feelings of shame and self-loathing. Hussie then proceeds not to comment on the following:
CCG: YOU ARE DEAD TO ME CCG: PAST YOU, PRESENT YOU, FUTURE YOU CCG: AND ABOVE ALL, UGLY SCARFNECKED DOUCHEBAG HIPSTER YOU CCG: WAIT I FORGOT, ALL OF THE YOUS ARE THAT YOU
Hmmm... interesting. I wonder why Hussie points out one of Karkat's running character traits, just to "forget" to notice when an exception happens directly after? I'll let this one be an exercise for the class.
So to tie it all back to your ask: why is the exposition on troll romance done the way it is? What are the narrator's motives? Hussie even outright states in the commentary that Kanaya/Tavros/Vriska, which is used as an example of an auspicetism, isn't even a real auspicetism, as Kanaya feels no need to commit to it, and at most is putting out mixed signals - it's just used as an example because it's the closest thing we've seen.
Well, the answer I've arrived at, personally, is that the troll romance explanation is as flawed as it is because the narrator is taking on Karkat's point of view. A movie poster on Karkat's wall, the troll version of Serendipity, is used and namedropped as the ultimate expression of meeting your soul mate in every quadrant - as well as the assertion that "every" troll believes that there ARE destined soul mates for every quadrant, which Karkat definitely believes, but isn't a sentiment necessarily shared by everybody else. Moreover, the explanation ends with a tirade about how Karkat tried to explain quadrants to John, who didn't get it because "he's an idiot".
I'm not saying that Karkat is literally narrating here, just to be clear - I'm saying that the narrator (Hussie-as-character) is relaying factual information as processed through the lens of Karkat's biases, and, as a result, we can't take the explanation at 100% face value (though we can't discount it as entirely untrue, either). It's not so much that "real" moirail pairs work because they're doing moirallegiance "wrong," but that Karkat's view of moirallegiance is simplistic, idealized, and flawed, and we see this play out when he's bitter about his breakup with Gamzee because Gamzee stops "needing" him to keep him calm, even after Karkat has failed to be kept calm by Gamzee in return.
The more I look into Homestuck, the more that I'm genuinely impressed by the way it handles its writing. I hope this was interesting to everyone, too. I feel a little like I'm peeling back a curtain, or opening up a clock to reveal all the little cogs and wheels.
No, you can't trust Hussie as the narrator, but that's on purpose, and it's on purpose because why do we trust narrators? Why do we assume people telling a story are unbiased, benevolent, and have no ulterior motives? Why do we let idiots, assholes, predators, and monsters get away with their version of the truth, when a little scrutiny will have the whole ruse fall apart? Why do we let people tell us not to care about other people, why do we let them tell us that it's okay to be cruel to acceptible targets, why do we let them go unexamined?
And how about the stories we tell ourselves?
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lesbianfakir · 8 months ago
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Something that is an example of good character writing in Princess Tutu is how Fakir and Duck have little incompatibilities in their personalities (you know. Beyond the obvious). It makes it a little harder for them to get along and understand one another but you get the sense that they’re both putting the effort in. It’s sweet and it makes the relationship feel all the more real.
Fakir is serious, blunt, and he doesn’t sugarcoat things. His words often come across as harsh, even when there’s real care behind them. As a result, Duck—who reads his tone but not always the intentions behind it—doesn’t always pick up on when he’s doing something nice for her. For example, when Duck starts to tell Mytho she’s Princess Tutu, Fakir startles her to interrupt her, causing her to turn back into a duck. She takes offense and only later realizes he did it so she wouldn’t reveal her identity to mytho before she was ready (and even then I don’t think she picks up on the full extent of it). There’s another scene where he tells her point blank if she doesn’t want to fight the raven she needs to stop being princess tutu. It comes across as quite harsh and seems to visibly sadden Duck, though he cares about her deeply and is only trying to keep her safe.
The other “incompatibility” that comes to mind is how Fakir is sensitive and easily offended while Duck tends to blurt out whatever’s on her mind. While there are many scenes where he does get upset (take the scene in the Wandering Knight where he takes her request to stop getting in fights as an attack on his character), there are just as many where he doesn’t take the bait. Watch the show a few times and you’ll notice Fakir has a habit of going silent when Duck says something insensitive. He waits for her to finish speaking and he either ignores her or moves on. In those moments, you can feel the conscious effort he’s making to not lash out. Duck’s earnest naïveté is part of why draws him to her but at the same time it causes friction between then when she’s overly hopeful about something delicate to him, like his writing.
Anyways tldr; Fakir tends to hide what he’s feeling and thinking behind a deadpan demeanor, which sometimes obscures his true intentions from Duck. Meanwhile Duck tends to trample over the things Fakir is sensitive about in conversation, and he often has to stop himself from getting upset. In these moments you see how these characters may not completely understand each other but they care about each other a lot and actively work to smooth out their differences. Also it’s very cute when Duck realizes after the fact Fakir did something nice for her and her face lights up.
These little quirks make room for natural misunderstandings between the characters. Honestly, I like how Princess Tutu doesn’t smooth out compatibility issues or completely rewrite Fakir’s character when he and Duck become friends. The same flaws and tendencies are present, we just see the characters taking more active, conscious steps towards getting along.
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melancholymetropolis · 8 months ago
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Exchange pt. II
plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.
pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader
genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort
warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.
song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller
a/n: ya girl has some good news!
w.c: 3.0k
part(s): Part I
Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 
Gojo: pssss
Gojo: wifey. . .
Gojo: are you up??????
Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?
Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 
Gojo was calling.
I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 
Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.
I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 
“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”
“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.
“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”
I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.
“How do you feel about going on a food run?”
“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.
“Yup!”
I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 
I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”
I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”
“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”
Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”
“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”
“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”
“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”
“Okay. Love you, boo!”
“Imma beat your ass.”
My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”
I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”
“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”
Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”
“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”
“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”
“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”
My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 
Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 
That had been before I met Gojo.
He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 
Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 
We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 
Would I have loved him by now?
“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”
“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”
He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”
A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 
The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.
A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.
His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 
“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”
His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 
A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.
“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”
At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 
The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 
“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”
I waited a moment for him to explain.
“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”
He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 
“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”
“Well. . . no”
“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”
“Of course not!” I conceded. 
“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”
The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.
A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”
Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 
A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:
Order: 2333
Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.
"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.
He hummed in response.
"Our order is ready."
Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"
I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."
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a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!
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TAGLIST
@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse
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mellowwillowy · 9 months ago
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TW: Physical and Mental Abuse, mentioned killing animals.
Yandere who is always there for you, whether you are at your highest or your lowest, he is always there to support you.
Yandere who has always been a gentleman, never doing anything that brings discomfort to you. He courts you religiously and never goes overbroad in his way, managing to worm himself into your heart.
Yandere who is so happy the moment you agree to bind yourself with him for eternity, his gloved hand slides the wedding ring onto your finger.
Yandere who treats you as usual until you start to see through his facade of a gentleman. Beyond the respected man of a Judge is a man of an inferiority complex.
And that you have always been nothing but a trophy to sate his ego. Someone who can stand on the high road but never at the same height as he does.
Yandere who one day found you snooping his diary, eyes tinted in anger, you lost your consciousness the moment one of his many thick books hit the back of your head unknowingly.
Yandere who enjoys seeing you so dependent on them, unable to even cut your own meal without breaking a sweat and a hiss.
Yandere who loves seeing blood drip out of your patched fingers, fingernails ripped by him out of love.
Yandere who treats you more as a doll and far from a spouse with each day passing.
Marlon had always enjoyed dressing you up in countless coutures. It was subtle at first but the moment you realized how ugly the root of his facade was, he no longer bothered to force you to wear what you might not like.
Contrary to his gloved hands, yours were miserable. You couldn't have a day in which your bandages wouldn't be seeping red.
Why did you even bother reading through his diary? Should you have feigned ignorance and led a peaceful life with the gentleman your husband was, you wouldn't have to bear the shame he would make you shoulder as he helped you bathe.
Oh, where had the man you once loved gone to? The man who was always there when you were at your lowest, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was the cause of your downfall, and the man who slowly guided you up into a modified throne for you.
Oh, what had happened to all those times? Ignorance is truly bliss and you regretted how your eyes and heart pried way too deep into him.
Your husband had always been referred to as a once-in-a-millennium prodigy yet his diary stated otherwise, filled with scribblings of how he still lacks a lot in comparison to someone.
You picked up on his facade from the time you started to live with him under the same roof. The way he would rub circles on his gloved fingers when he was troubled to the way he had tendencies to kill doves whenever he failed in doing something.
Would he kill you like the dead doves he had buried in the garden?
You couldn't help but bury yourself with countless thoughts of how he would dispose of you for being able to see through his secret.
But the day you would end up buried six feet underground never came.
You were alive but never unscratched. A high-collared garment that hid the bruises around your neck, ankles that were sore from the rope that dug into the skin every time you walked any faster, and gloved hands that tried their best to use the dining utensils properly while maintaining your expression, trying not to wring it with pain and tears.
Alas, you mistook his way of loving someone as a way of torturing someone until one of his many 'siblings' visited. Marlon was away when one of them walked up to you, the woman shared almost a complete resemblance to him.
"I heard that Marlon really cherishes you as his spouse and it seems to be true." Despite how stoic her face was, with no hatred nor mockery in her tone and words, her words left you thinking. You eyed the family crest that was embroidered on her shirt collar, XL.
Just how exactly does his 'family' love someone to the point even his 'Sister' acknowledge this as something normal? Perhaps you were the one who never tried to understand it?
--
Bonus: WIP Comic
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backtotheshitshow · 10 months ago
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Wood & Words (part2)
Woodworker! James Potter and Princess! Reader.
Warnings: angssssst. James being kind of a dick? Kinda proof read.
Part1 part3
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For the third day in a row there was a knock on the wood shed door.
Upon entering the shed Y/n was surprised to find James not in the middle of his work but leaning against the wall gazing at the book she had given him.
“Oh your majesty. Good morning.” James said closing the book quickly and placing it on his work bench.
“Good morning Mr Potter, I see you’ve been practicing.” She smiled.
“Oh um yes:” he glanced over at the book with an annoyed expression.
“And how is that going for you.” She smiled rocking on her heels with excitement.
“I believe I had enough for today.”
James had been studying the same couple of pages for two hours this morning and had picked up none of it. The words made no sense and the sentence all mushed together.
James had a tendency to get irritable when he was embarrassed or self-conscious.
It was only natural that he was fed up after two hours of not learning to read a single word. He looked up at the princess, frustrated.
“Oh I see. Are you having trouble.” She asked.
This only made James more frustrated. “I’m not having ‘trouble’ I’m not a child.” He said bluntly.
He turned to his work bench, it looked as though he was working on the shelves of the book stand.
“I didn’t mean it that way..” she scrunched her brows growing slightly annoying at his dismissiveness towards her but she tried to stay calm . “Would you like me to help, perhaps having someone else explaining things will benefit you.”
James did not respond to her. He continued sanding one of the shelf slats.
“Mr Potter?”
“I’ve told I don’t want your help. I’ve excepted the book as a gift and now I’m studying it. Is that not enough for you?” He said not taking his eyes of his work, his voice filled annoyance.
She looked at his profile in shock, why was he being so rude.
“I’m only trying to help.” She sounded both hurt and angry by his out burst.
“Perhaps it’s best if I just leave you be then. l’ll return in a week to fetch those things I asked you to make…I won’t bother you beyond that.” She was quick to turn on her heels and head for the door.
James saw how hurt she was at his reply. He’d felt embarrassed, but he hadn’t meant to cause the Princess so much distress.
In one abrupt motion, he stepped forward and grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving.
“Wait!” James froze when he realized what he’d done. Touching the princess without permission not to long ago would have gotten him hanged. Thankfully those rules do apply anymore but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t face serious punishment if she reported it.
He was embarrassed but he didn’t dare pull away, even if it was probably the more appropriate course of action.
“Let go of me.” She said in an annoyed tone.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have touched you. Forgive me.” James rambled.
“It’s alright James..” she sighed. The sound of her calling him by his first name was sweet to him.
James was speechless for a few moments, having not expected to hear the Princess calling him by his name, again.
It was a nice reminder that she did in fact viewed him as an equal.
“You’re not bothering me. I just…I get embarrassed rather easily when it comes to my... illiteracy, You've been nothing but kind and I’m so very sorry for my behaviour." He explains.
“I…if you don’t mind I would like you to help me.” He admitted looking away from her.
“You do?” Y/n had the biggest grin on her face and look of hope in her eyes. James simply nodded.
“Come sit outside then.” She grabbed his hand and the book, pulling him outside quickly. After a few steps she took a seat on the ground near a tree.
She pulled him by his arm to sit next to her.
“Okay now where was it that you were up to?” She asked pending the book and scooting closer until their shoulders touched.
“Page 6, I believe.”
Y/n tuned to page six. ‘Silent Letters and Homophones.’ She simply smiled.
“Ahh I see…you know I’ve had several private tutors and to this day I this find these to be a pain in the back side.” She confessed.
“Really?” James asked raising an eyebrow. Her confession made him feel a little better about how hard he had found that section to understand.
“Yes I mean your telling me, that when they made the English language no one sat and thought ‘hmmm maybe we don’t need three different theres or a silent k at the beginning of knock.’ It’s ridiculous.”
James only laughed. Y/n began going over a few pages with him explaining the topics as best she could.
“Does…does that make sense?” She asked.
“So ‘ee’ and ‘ea’ are the same?” James responded chancing at the book from over the princess shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Then what’s the point of having both.” James said
“I don’t know..” she laughed turning towards him.
Their noses were only a few short centimetres apart. She examined the specks within his hazel eyes. He had such kind eyes.
“Thank you for helping me, I’m sorry I was so harsh.” He whispered to her not breaking eye contact.
“It’s no problem at all.”
They held there places, a thick tension sat in the spaces between the two, for only a second he glanced down, the princess’s lips ever so slightly parted. He leaned forward, the tips of the nose just grazing each other….
“Y/n!! “ the voice of her mothers lady in waiting, Ms Anne, startled the both of them. “Where are you it is almost supper?!”
“Christ. Where did the time go?” Y/n was quick to her feet. “I’m sorry I must go.” She said dusting off her dress.
“No it’s alright.” James said.
His head felt cloudy. still a bit dazed by how close they had been only moments ago.
Within the blink of an eye the princess was dashing away. He watched has her hair moved along with her in the light breeze. She always look so heavenly.
…..
The following morning Y/n was preparing for the day. She thanked her lady in waiting for assisting her with her dress and sat at her desk.
"Good morning my dear." The queen entred the room.
"Oh good morning mother. Lovely day outside don't you think?" Y/n said with a happy smile.
"Yes it is. Planning on taking a stroll are you?”
"Yes actually I was.” She smiled.
"Hmm, Off to see Mr Potter I suppose." The queen gave a little smirk of amusement.
Y/n's face dropped, her mothers comment caught her off guard. "I- mother it's not... I can explain. He's simply..."
"Oh yes simply making a book stand correct?" The queen smiled with a light laugh. Y/n only nodded.
“That’s not what Ms Anne seems to think. “ the queen took a seat in the edge of y/n four post bed.
“Ms Anne?!”
“Yes she said you too seemed very close when she came across the two of you yesterday afternoon.” The queen said with a smile.
"Mother I-"
"It's alright my dear. You never did seem suited to all those stuffy princes anyway."
"Mother it's not like that. There nothing.....romantic about the situation." Y/n explained.
"Perhaps not. However have a sneaking feeling you're not happy about that" the queen stood once more.
Y/n looked to the floor. As usually her mother was right. "Mother I've known him for three days."
"Your grandfather meet your grandmother at breakfast and had proposed to her by supper time. If anything you two are dragging this out." They both laughed.
"Alright then off you go... he's probably waiting to see if you'll show up again."
Y/n hugged her mother tightly. "Thank you" she said before darting out of the room and heading towards the castle exit.
————
I love this series so much already.
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jesterofcringe · 5 months ago
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE MORE ENDERMAN LOTTIE FICS OR AN AI BOT OF SOME KIND PLEASE PLEASE
See No Evil Enderman!Lottie x Reader
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!!tw mentions of blood and implications of murder!! also sorry this took a while anon i've been busy with finals 😭 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
★Have you ever tried to pick up a cat and force it to cuddle with you? Because Lottie likes to do that to you. A lot.
★She quickly learned that you couldn't sleep at night so long as she was around, so day time naps were the way to go.
★You would usually be going about some chores when you would feel her arms wrap around you and pick you up. Before you got the chance to say anything, you were being teleported back into your bed and Lottie was curling up against you.
★"H-Hey! I need to finish that- Lottie hold on a sec!"
★At first you would fight against her grip, attempting to wriggle free, but Endermen were strong and you slowly got used to it and just let it happen. Because of these typical shenanigans you eventually became somewhat nocturnal, tending to your chores at night and taking long naps during the day.
★Sometimes you forgot Lottie was a mob until she gave you a good reason to remember.
★One of these instances you were tending to the garden late at night [because your clingy ass girlfriend ruined your sleep schedule] when you realized you hadn't seen Lottie for a little while. This didn't really strike you as odd since Endermen had a tendency to just vanish. So you were minding your own business, and tending to your crops, perking up when your favorite mob appear behind you.
★As you spun on your heels to greet her, you felt your heart sink into your feet. Lottie was covered in blood, and acting abnormally nonchalant about it.
★"Holy shit! What happened to you?"
★At first you thought Lottie had gotten hurt and was now bleeding out as if that was totally normal. But then you remembered Endermen blood was purple, not the sickly crimson splattered across Lottie's clothes.
★You recalled seeing a death message from the server, but you hadn't paid too much attention to it. As you watched the blood slowly drip down her claws, you seriously wondered if you should have.
★"Lottie... what did you do?"
★She brushed past you and ignored the question completely, which made you all the more concerned.
★You grabbed her wrist [instantly grossed out when you felt the blood on your own hand] and forced her to stop moving away from you.
★"This is serious! What happened out there?"
★She huffed before pointing at her eyes and then your own.
★"What does that even... oh wait, eye-contact? They made eye-contact?" She nodded quick, and you couldn't help but to sigh with relief, "Ok, at least it was an accident and not out of some random murderous desire."
★As you said it, she kind of made a face and shrugged.
★"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN-"
★The reminder alone that Lottie was capable of being dangerous was a weird taste of reality. You knew she was a monster but... did you? It never fully processed in your mind. You knew she wouldn't hurt you though, so long as you were careful.
★Except you weren't careful, and you had accidentally made eye-contact with her. You were certain you would never experience something scarier.
★For what it's worth you had fought Endermen before, but something about seeing Lottie, a mob you were used to being completely peaceful, become totally hostile was absolutely terrifying.
★It happened because she jokingly took a tool you were using, and held it above your head so you couldn't reach it. You spun around too fast, looking up quickly without thinking about it.
★For a moment, all you could think about was how pretty her eyes were, until you watched her eyes go wide with shock. Her tail bristled up, and her jaw fell slack revealing sharp fangs you had never noticed until that point. Never noticed, likely for a good reason.
★Your hand instinctively rested on the hilt of your sword, but the moment you noticed her hands were shaking you knew you were screwed. You didn't even have your shield on you. Fuck.
★You did have something else in your inventory you could use. An enderpearl. You had acquired it a long time before you met Lottie, and you felt bad trying to get more since meeting her, so you had decided to save it for emergency. This seemed like as good of time as any to use it.
★Before you got a moment to calculate your throw and plan out your escape route, she lunged at you and caused you to fumble, tossing the pearl up and behind. Her claw grazed over your nose as you landed upside down in a tree branch.
★Endermen couldn't teleport up, and you were grateful for that. You decided you'd stay in the tree as long as you needed until she hopefully calmed the fuck down. That, unfortunately, didn't stop her from sitting at the base of the tree and staring at you from below, her tail flicking in anticipation.
★"Lottie I'm sorry!"
★">:("
★"I love you?"
★">:("
★"Ok-"
★You were in the tree for a while. You could see the sun peaking over the horizon when you heard her finally teleport away. You decided that was a good sign that you were safe as you slid out the tree.
★You didn't see Lottie until much later. Well, less see, more felt. Her arms wrapped around you from behind, and you reflectively jerked away from her touch. She seemed genuinely hurt by this, which is when you realized she was back to normal.
★Gently this time, she ran a finger over the cut that ran across the bridge of your nose before giving you a puzzled look.
★"That was you, don't you remember?"
★In all of two seconds her expression shifted from confused, to concerned, to absolutely guilt ridden. You felt kinda bad for reminding her.
★"I'm fine Lot, just a little shaken up is all."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── sorry this one is a bit shorter i really do have to finish studying lol [tag lolz : @thedreemer-artrequestsopen]
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dumblucksers · 3 months ago
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II 15 SPOILERS
here is my taco recap + analysis that I wrote after someone mischaracterized her in front of me:
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just a disclaimer I have no idea what I'm talking about half of the time so sorry if some bits don't rlly make sense :P
ok so starting with her in season 1, literally all we see her as is this insane little cray say thing who has an iq of 7, apparently speaks French, spits lemons, screams randomly and says things that make no sense LMAO
she gets close to pickle and they stick together for basically the entire season
obviously we know now that her motivation this time was to become the fan favorite and get to the end so she can win the million (for reasons we don't know honestly, maybe find out in 16)
there are also moments in s1 where she'll slip up the act (but they play off as comedic effect) example when she calculated her fall in ep 12 or in 11 where she revealed her arms and was speaking full sentences to pickle for a second and a half
but anyway right at the end when she loses is where she reveals her true self and tried to steal the million after losing (and also severing her relationship with pickle)
one thing to point out before moving on is that taco is an analyzer, her act of being dumb gave her time to observe all of the contestants and pick the right allies and whatevs
n e way moving on to s2
taco has been stalking the entirety of s2 up until she reveals herself in 9, where she still wants the million (or rather half of it, and for reasons we still don't know) and she takes interest in the grand slams team, particularly microphone, who ironically doesn't exactly have a strong voice in the game and is, in tacos eyes, an easy target. So she reveals herself to mic and offers to help her advance in the game in exchange for 50/50 of the million
at this point taco only rlly sees mic as a pawn, and easily controlled. mic is unsure as all she's hearing is how useless and sad she is from a tiny British taco KSJSJSK
however mic is lowkey desperate herself bc she feels as though she isn't pulling her weight on her team, doesn't have much of a voice in the competition, she just lost soap aswell. so she accepts tacos help in the maze challenge using her gain setting.
now in 11 we see more of tacos strategies play out, as she further analyzes the grand slams, as it's categorized as: the alliance (baseball, nickel, suitcase) the friendship (suitcase and balloon) and the other ppl (knife and mic). Taco is more focused on the alliance and their relation to balloon, and she urges mic to get more involved in the pushing away of balloon to get him eliminated (and to further progress mic in the game) but rather than using the approach of attempting to make allies with baseball and nickel, we learn of tacos more violent tendencies. she wants to use a temporary paralyzer (courtesy of test tubes lab) to decapitate balloon. this is where mic draws the line, and also the episode where she proves herself to taco by instead of using violence, she substitutes subtle verbal and emotional manipulation instead. Taco is greatly impressed by this, and it's at this point where taco realizes that mic may not be as helpless as she originally thought.
now taco and mic are starting to reach equal ground, as in 12 they are more casual with each other and just chilling. it's also where the TIME TRAVEL STUFFF HAPPENS WHWOAOOAOAOAOOWOWOWOWOWOW
basically when they're down in test tubes lab and lightbulb activates the Time Machine portal thing, mic sees taco reach towards the portal, before it closes. this is (I think) the first time mic and the audience has seen taco look built a k o my god how tf do you spell vulnerable. ok there we go anyway this is the first time we see taco look vulnerable, and *possibly* regret towards her past actions. she reaches while saying "another chance, perhaps." and while at the time it could have been taken as another chance at stealing the million, ii 15 adds more context that she wants another chance with her relationships in the past, particularly with pickle, and she clearly regrets what she did.
now after this point mic is now a bit sus of what just happened, seeing taco reach for the portal. we also get to see another silly side of taco (not the cray say silly, just normal silly) as she tries to distract mic from the portal And from the fact that test tube and lightbulb are now in the time stuff.
oh yeah also at the end the episode knife finds out about mic and taco oh nooooo well go into that in a second
in 13 yknow they're trying to get knife to join them cuz now he knows and yeah yeah whatever. also taco and mic are getting closer as equals and as friends too so yeah
mic also brings up the portal and taco ignores, as per usual.
now let's get to the interesting stuff. Taco and mic are following knife around in the minecarts, and taco says smth like "is this you holding a grudge over my true self? For why? Everyone knows who I am now!" And mic says "doooo we thooooo????" this is like. 99% attached to the whole portal thing, bc mic saw that vulnerability and now she knows there's a teeeeeny bit more to the evil lil British Mexican food than what meets the eye
also there's another instance of taco and mics violence is bad bit, where knife is about to fall off, and while taco is like YIPPEEEE mic is like erm. No. And then saves knife
now here's where it gets even MORE interesting, where knife calls out tacos first alliance with pickle. Taco obviously gets mad at this, but mic doesn't rlly have a huge reaction except to tell knife that "she's(tacos) changing", which shows that she prolly put two and two together about the portal thing (prolly isss bc she stops pestering about it at this point)
now at this moment in 14 it's clear that taco and mic are partners in crime (well crime might be stretching it. Or not considering what happens), taco goes to shut down mepad so she and mic can teleport freely (and, to the prime shimmer spaceship) where the last violence is bad instance comes up. mic says PROMISE NO VIOLENCE and taco teeechnically doesn't promise, but yaknoww
now cut to when taco uses violence, she kills test tube and paralyzes fan to mics horror. she won immunity but at the expense of others , and that wasn't smth she was comfortable with, and that was her breaking point. she drops taco AND the entire show and eliminates herself
this is also tacos breaking point, in a way. where she realizes how much the game has shaped her into doing heinous acts, and for what, a chance at a cash prize? And now that she's completely out of luck for that prize, her work was for nothing. and it was at the expense of her two closest friends.
she pinpoints where she screwed up, and it was at the finale of season 1, where she broke her ties completely with her best friend just for a chance to steal the prize money. It was the game that fucked up her mentality, that every horrible thing that is done is for the greater good, and to use the rules of the game and the people you meet to advance for a extremely low chance of winning it all. Realizing all of this, taco doesn't want a repeat of this cycle, since the competition is so close to completion. She requests the challenge information from Mepad, and uses him as an incentive to Mephone.
But before we go there time to talk about her BANGER MUSICAL NUMBER YESSSS MY LIL THEATRE KID
anyway in the song id like to point out the banger lines "and we choose, to feel this pain, and we lose, more than we gain" which is basically everything I mentioned before about using the rules of the game and pushing away friends and whatever, and then eventually losing more than you get
next part "if I can't win the prize, I'll play my last reprisal, just to bring their lies all to an end" and then mepad is all like welll you gotta regenerate and tacos like, yeah that's prolly not gonna happen. And mepad points out how she believes she can't start on a clean slate. taco is like bro. with my track record? dawg there's no slate to begin with LMAO
but seriously with everything tacos done she believes it's too late to restart and that everything she did is irreparable (which ngl, kinda true maybe? but also not cuz she hasn't even apologized just yet) and mepad tries to convince her that yes you can change!!! youuu can make a difference...you can make it right... but taco doesn't rlllly listen
ok long story short she takes over the next part of the challenge which is truth or flare, where platforms rise if the contestants tell the truth and falls if they lie, and their fire has to reach the top and burn their rope. Taco, using her extended stalker knowledge of s2, quizzes the contestants on their interpersonal relationships and ngl as Mephone put it it's just a twisted group therapy session lmao
fast forward to nearing the end and the last question taco asks is to suitcase about what she thought she saw when she was being a floating bow tie. suitcase brings up her hallucinations, to which everyone, including taco, is horrified by. Taco sees how the game has affected suitcase, by making her so anxious that she literally HALLUCINATES, and that is yet another breaking point for her. She urges the remaining 4 to leave the competition before they go in too deep. She admits to her not caring about the cash prize anymore, as she "saw the desire took her to extremes" (the violence thing between her and mic) and how the game changes people based on how deep they get into it. She calls out Mephone for getting too deep aswell, as she brings up his challenges that clean up his messes, using tactics such as surprise double eliminations to add drama that mentally fucks with everyone involved in it. Her lil spiel is interrupted by a bush shake, since lightbulbs lil pen she's been clicking actually calls out a signal, and that anyone nearby could answer the call. Taco starts cracking out of fear? nervousness? Pressure idk anxiety any of those, because as knife points out, anyone could meannnn pickleeeee orrrr miccccc oh nooooo. knife says that she has to face her truths too, And then taco cracks completely and dies. annnnd everyone is horrified and sad, except for Mephone obviously, who is now threatened by taco since everything she said was true ngl jdhdjs
but also goes to show how mentally fucked taco is aswell, which while yes it is her fault that her relationships ended the way they did, the common denominator AND motivator is and was always the game.
anyway mepad and the other contestants force Mephone into reviving taco, and mepad formally resigns from the show convinced by tacos speech about leaving the game before it fucks them up. Mepad teleports away and stays with taco, urging her to stop hiding away from her truths and face pickle and mic, if for the last time. Aaand taco agrees
OK THATS IT WOW so tldr taco did some no no things But her unhealthy obsession with Winning a constantly (and unrightfully) changing game was the main factor, and her realization of this is leading her to a redemption arc that she and the people she hurt will (hopefully) heal from
weeee
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phntmeii · 1 year ago
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♡ Dating Corey Cunningham Headcanons:
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❝ If I can’t have her… No one will. ❝
[SFW Headcanons + No Gendered Terms]
Content Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Stalking, Mentions of Murder/Violence, Possessive and Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation/Gaslighting, Mention of Previous Abuse.
A/N: Call me Saul Goodman the way I’ll defend this man. He did nothing wrong. He was simply being silly!!!!
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Post-Michael Era:
> Corey knows how to disguise himself to look harmless which is how he wants you to view him. No one else’s opinion matters on him besides yours.
> He doesn’t know what it is but you somehow made him feel normal and yet so… alive. That’s what made his life turn to you completely.
> Corey appears like a regular dorky, shy, boy next door type. That’s what made him so charming. He wouldn’t want you to know how dangerous he really was.
> After a shitty day, he just wants to sit down and talk with you. Over the phone or in-person, he finds your voice to be comforting.
> He sometimes secretly records your voice to replay it over and over again to soothe him if he can’t get to you.
> Corey somehow can always bump into you. It’s funny. It’s almost like he’s stalking you or something. And of course, it’s because he is and memorized your schedule the moment he saw you.
> Corey can’t help but claim you as his even before you two began dating because in his mind, no one could save you like he could. He was your hero. He’d make you see that soon.
> He’s always sweet to you. Showering you in affection and slowly manipulating you to believe only he can help you. You don’t need friends. You need him.
> Corey needs to feel needed by you. When he starts seeing you rely on him more and more, he knows he’s won. He has you just as he liked.
> Friends aren’t spending as much time with you recently? He’s right there to vent to. Parents getting on your ass about something? Hey, he knows what that’s like. Partner making you feel insecure? Corey will have you feeling like a precious diamond.
> And once you’ve realized Corey is the one, he’s more than overjoyed but he just gives a small smirk and wraps his arms around you.
> He’s the definition of “hates everyone but you” type. Everyone else is insufferable to him but nothing you do can bother him.
> Now that he has his love, finding targets becomes so much easier. Anyone who bothers you simply becomes a missing person who Corey led to Michael.
> Corey wouldn’t tell you about it until it became a true achievement in his mind. Say you had an abusive ex or a cheating ex, something along those lines. Corey would lead you to his “surprise” of that ex’s corpse and proclaiming his absolute love for you.
> Because to him, being willing to kill and going through with it is the ultimate form of devotion.
> Corey’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Quality Time.
> Corey wants you to feel like you need him and can’t live without him. So he makes you dependent on him.
> He’ll go out of his way to make inconveniences for you so he could fix them.
> Your car somehow broke down and you have no idea how? Corey’s there to save the day. You swear you had your alarms set that morning but they didn’t go off? Corey can pick you up and drop you off. “Accidentally” got food poisoning so now you’re sick for a few days? Corey is there to take care of you.
> He’s always just conveniently there and so helpful! It’s all because he knows you so well.
> Also any time of the day is time to spend with him. He’s incredibly clingy and feels just off if you aren’t beside him.
> Like everything is dimmer when you aren’t around so he has a tendency to sneak off during his lunch breaks to stop by to see you.
> Late at night, he’ll text to look out your window and there he is: flower in hand and a sweet smile as he invites you on a night out.
> His favorite is anywhere with a nice overhead view of the lit-up city. Maybe a rooftop or something and he just has you in his arms, right where you belong.
> Corey’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.
> Before you actually got into a relationship, Corey CRAVED your touch. He’d go out of his way to get it. Having his hand linger on yours if he gives you something, insisting for a hug when you vent, etc.
> Now that he has you, there is nothing better than feeling you.
> When you grab his hand if you feel nervous or scared, he’s over the moon. He wants to be your protector and the fact that you know that is perfect to him.
> He likes to be littered in kisses in reward for him doing well. Corey becomes more like Pre-Michael era when it comes to affection. Just an absolute puppydog looking for attention.
> Corey doesn’t like being away from you. It’s kind of like a separation anxiety where he’s worried being away from you means you’re in danger.
> So the best way to make him happy is to surprise him with your presence!
> Casually stopping by his work, claiming your car needs to be fixed when everything is fine just so you can see him.
> Asking for him to hang out randomly for no reason at all other than to be beside him. He’ll immediately swing by and pick you up the moment he opens the door to cuddle with you.
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year ago
Text
Home (Camila Montes X Reader)
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“Get Out!”
You were tossed on the small lawn in front of your house, your father standing above you seething and throwing a suitcase next to you clothes scattered everywhere.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
A car slowly came to a stop as a familiar face from school peaked at you.
Your tears were endless as you looked to your mom for help. She simply shook her head stepping back into the house, before she came back out your journal clutched tight in her hands. You glanced at the book and her, eyes widening in mortification at what she could’ve read. Your deepest thoughts were laid bare in that book: every good day, bad day, significant event, such as you realizing your crush on your long time best friend and many others to follow. You wondered why you’d get so upset when they’d discussed their crushes on boys or when they’d talk about first kisses.
“Mom..” you spoke shakily a hand raised and before you knew it that same hand smacked you. Leaving behind a sharp sting. Her eyes were watering as if she were the one in pain.
“We won’t have you in our house with these disgusting thoughts.”
She tossed the book at you and went back inside her husband following. You sniffled calmly picking up your clothes and throwing them in your suitcase.
“Mija que esta sucediendo?”
“Espera mama.”
Platform boots came into your line of vision and you found yourself looking up into the brown eyes of your classmate.
Camila Montes was notorious for her explosive attitude.
She’d sent a boy to the hospital just because he was staring at her on her first day.
To see her standing before you at the moment worried you. According to most that knew her, (not any friends she didn’t do friends) she was a “cold hearted bitch”.
“You good?”
You gulp trying to fight back more tears as you nod beginning to scramble quickly when you hear another noise come from your home. No, not your home anymore your mother and father made sure the whole neighborhood knew this.
Camilas dark eyes glanced to the house, her car and then you. Her mother watching with interest as she knew her daughter had a tendency to keep to herself. She felt a smile form when she watched as the teenager helped pick up your clothes.
“What happened?” Her voice was gruff as if she were trying not to yell.
“I uh..” you took a deep breath. “I just got kicked out of my house.”
The girls eyebrows furrowed she knew better than to ask anything else, everyone had seen exactly what happened. She picked up the suitcase and tilted her head towards her car.
“Come on.” You stood quickly confused as she took your suitcase to her car placing it in the back seat. You sat down quietly as the older woman began to speak.
“Quien es?”
“Y/n mami”
Camilas eyes shift to yours through the rear view mirror. You sat quietly confused as to why she was telling your mother your name and how she knew it.
“Ella necesita un lugar para quedarse”
Before you knew it, you were bought to a small house Camila going around to assist her mother. You stood by the car unsure of what to do making the girl roll her eyes.
“Come on I already have my hands full, I don’t have time to hold yours.”
You follow and help her get her mom sat down on the sofa in the living room.
“Gracias Nina linda.” She patted your cheek eyes closing as she went to put her head back and rest a moment.
“She said thank you pretty girl.”
You jump forgetting she was there with you.
“You can put your stuff in my room, and sleep on the futon,” she turned abruptly looking up to you slightly finger raised.
“But don’t touch my shit you’re not special.”
You nod following and placing your suitcase to the side. You went to take a shower.
Camila waited until she was sure you were in the bathroom to snoop through your wallet she’d opened it to find your ID, a few bills, and a small picture of an older woman with a young girl sitting on her lap. She looked closer at the date squinting before she looked at her phone.
When she heard the shower shut off she put everything back where it was and went to tend to her mother.
“Mami?” Her mom snored from her spot making the girl smile a bit, she kissed her forehead placing the blanket over her.
After you showered and gotten dressed you followed the path to the kitchen smelling food. You were surprised to find Camila standing by a few containers of food and a small box.
“They didn’t have a lot of options since it’s late but..” painted nails pulled back the lid and revealed a small cake. You looked to the girl surprised.
“How did you-“ She scoffed.
“You’re seriously gonna ask questions right now?” You gulp nodding and sit down the both of you eating in comfortable silence. Camilas mom walking in with a cane.
“Mami-“ the older woman cut her off with a wave of her hand before she lit a candle and placed it on the cake as she began to sing
“Cumpleanos Feliz”
.
.
You’d been at Camilas for a few months. Her mother adored you and was determined to teach you Spanish, Camila herself was a lot nicer than she was at school. Still stoic most times but she was helpful and considerate without thought. She had gotten you a job at the bodega and helped make the futon more comfortable, it almost felt like home.
Her mother would sometimes speak a lot faster in Spanish whenever Camila was around smirking each time her daughter would dismiss her or change the subject.
“What Camila it’s true are you really going to defend that Fag-“ the sound of a body being slammed to the lockers.
“If I were you I’d shut the fuck up.” You ran to see a crowd forming in the hallway, Camila holding your old “friend” Gabby against the locker. You cautiously walked up placing a hand on Camilas shoulder.
“Camila come on I don’t want you to get in trouble.” The other girl laughed.
“Is that why you’re defending her?” She turned her head to you. “News flash Camilas just a hopped up slut who’ll-“
Everyone gasped at the sound of a punch being landed but it wasn’t Camilas hand it was your.
“Oh shit.” You whimpered shaking your hand. You didn’t mean to punch her but you didn’t like how she was talking to Camila, she wasn’t a slut she was nice and took you in when you needed help without question.
You were in the nurses office getting your hand wrapped as Camila sat nearby. Luckily Gabby was also 18 and there were witnesses that stated she instigated the fight, the principal decided detention after school would be the best punishment for you.
Camila stood up to look at your hand. Her dark eye liner making her brown eyes even deeper somehow.
“I could’ve handled it.”
You shrug.
“You’re not a slut, even if you sleep with everyone in town that’s your business.”
“I haven’t, that rumor started because I was stupid enough to sleep with ONE guy after I broke up with my girlfriend.” You nod.
“Kind of makes me feel better not liking men.” You joke weakly. The girl smiles slightly at you nudging your shoulder.
“I’ll see you later yeah?”
You got back to Camilas late, her mom on the couch watching some new telenovela.
Camila already filled her in that you’d be late.
“Tu comida esta en la estufa.”
“Gracias senora Montes.” She smiled happy you were learning but quickly frowned.
“Solo llamame mama o mami por favor.” Your eyebrows furrowed you knew parts of what she said but not all of it.
“SHE SAID CALL HER MAMI OR MAMA!” You nod.
“Mama.” She smiles patting your cheek and shooing you to the kitchen.
Camila sat at the table eating a plate already ready in front of her.
“Thank you.” You said softly sitting across from her.
“QUE?!” Her mom yelled. You both laugh.
“Gracias Camila.” Her mom cheered going back to her show as the two of you ate in silence.
It was late for some reason and you couldn’t sleep.
And apparently neither could Camila.
“Y/n?” She whispered.
“Yeah?” A soft hand grabbed yours making you sit up as you were dragged to her room.
She shut the door behind you gesturing towards her bed.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” She shook her head one of her hands inching towards yours.
Your eyes scanned her head to toe. Her usual make up gone nothing but freckles and fair skin covered by a giant t-shirt.
Her hand slowly made its way to your shoulder making you shiver.
Dark eyes searched yours before leaning in.
“GET DOWN!”
“Y/N!” There was glass everywhere a sharp sensation on the back of your skull.
“Y/N!” You struggled against the strong body against you as you watched Camila kick and scream. Her mothers voice also ringing out in the distance.
.
.
.
“So I either go to the nursing home or go to jail for being an accomplice to an accomplice to an “illegal” immigrant?”
You tilted your head at the lawyer who hummed.
“I know it’s hard but if you cooperate you’ll free not only Camila but her mother as well.” You bit your lip looking at the pamphlet. You owed them everything, working with the elderly was the least you could do.
“Ok I’ll do it.”
After a series of questions and a long drive in a school bus, you’d finally made it to the nursing home. Next to you a curly haired girl with glasses.
“I’m Lily.” She whispered.
“Y/n.” You whispered back offering a small smile, it dropping as a man in the corner looks to you intently. “Is it just me or is that guy staring?”
Lily subtly looks around the room before her eyes land on James. “No girl he’s staring at you real hard, be careful.”
You nod.
It feels almost like prison with how the cycle works. You eat, work, sleep and repeat. For some reason you’re the only one who can remember going to bed and what day it is. The other three besides Lily really don’t talk much. James seems to be nice though always having you help with simpler tasks and even bringing you things that only the staff have access to.
You try to take comfort in seeing some kindness here but you find yourself constantly missing a certain brunette wondering if she’s ok and if she was going to do what you thought she was that night in her room. You look to see Lily being taken somewhere and go to follow only to be stopped once again by James.
“You should get back to the garden, the new groups coming in and we need the hall cleared for the tour.” You nod as he puts his arm around your shoulder leading you away.
Camila steps off the bus and into the building eyes scowling at everything in sight until they widen at the sight of familiar hair.
“Y/n?” She goes to walk towards you but is quickly stopped by another guard. He points back to the group and moves them further into the hall.
It’s when you get to the garden and look around you see none of your group with you. Shyly you ask James if he knew anything of this but the man just redirects your attention to another task at hand. It’s when his walkie talkie goes off that there’s an issue in the cafeteria that runs him off. You looked down seeing a flash of silver smiling, you make sure no one notices by pretending to tie your shoe.
It’s late, it smells weird and Camilas pretty sure some of the old people next door are getting freaky either that or dying, she rolls her eyes to herself. She can’t sleep as she thinks of you and her mother, praying you’re both safe. The group she came with, misfits at best, weren’t horrible. Micah seemed decent she supposed, JP obviously having the biggest hard on for her, Chris was a pussy and Big Mac was just an idiot, an entertaining idiot but still an idiot.
A quiet knock shook her from her thoughts and she almost stayed in her bed until she heard it again. She got up to toeing to the door swinging it open.
“Y/n?” A small smile makes it way to your face as you look at her in the shorts and tank top provided by the facility.
“Cam-“ your relief was short lived as your dragged into the room. You’re pulled into the room abruptly by the collar of your shirt.
“What are you doing here?” You both ask at the same time.
You laugh softly. “They told me if I cooperated that they’d let you and your mom go.”
She scowled crossing her arms. “They told me the same thing.”
“I’m glad you’re ok though.” The shorter girls eyes softened as she uncrossed her arms. “I was worried about you.”
Dark brown eyes continued to stare at you and you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.
“How’d you find me?”
“Would you believe me if I said I went knocking on every door down this hallway?” Camila continued to stare at you as you rubbed the back of your neck.
She stepped closer to you. “So you turned yourself in for a girl you met a few months ago, risked getting caught sneaking around to find her in the same place not knowing what might happen after?”
You flush a bit. “Well when you say it like that it sounds crazy.”
She deadpans. “It is.”
You laugh. Damn I missed her. A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. Those same brown eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back again. Unconsciously, you both lean in, you dipping slightly to help her reach. Soft plush lips press to yours softly at first before they grow in intensity. Short black fingernails dig into your shoulders as you place yours around her waist, hands grazing the exposed skin eliciting a soft moan. You feel yourself stumble as you’re pulled more towards the bed, Camilas hand reaching back until she feels the soft surface.
She turns pushing you on the bed aggressively. The mattress spring making you bounce a bit. She wastes no time climbing on your lap as you sit up, hands greedy to feel more of her as they travel up her back. Hers tugging your hair as your lips slide against one another. It’s when her tongue licks your lips begging for entry that your breath hitches. You both groan when there’s another knock on her door she signals for you to stay as she goes to answer.
JP stands at the door smile on his face as he wiggles his keys.
“Employee swim?”
Camila tilts her head. “Didn’t take you for the bad boy type…” she pauses “I wonder why or should I say who?” She quirks an eyebrow.
The boy sputters.
“I’m just kidding bro, I get it. She’s hot if she were into girls I’d hit that.”
You felt yourself slowly start to stand up. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea you winced.
“Then again maybe I could change her mind.”
Definitely a bad idea. You look around to see if there’s another way out of her room but sigh when you see it’s only the door you sit at the desk and wait.
You hear more laughter before the door closes. You stand as Camila makes her way back to the bed.
“So where-“
“I think I should go.” Her eyebrows furrow.
“Wait what I thought-“ You quickly make your way to the door.
“Yeah I’m tired anyway but it was good seeing you.” The door slams shut making Camila huff.
What the fuck just happened?
As you make your way back you see Micah following JP and Big Mac to the pool. Your eyes widen as you realize you haven’t seen your group in a week and Micah is the last person you spoke with. You quickly turn back to Camilas room knocking urgently. She opens the door glaring.
“What? You gonna throw mixed signals again?”
“Shut up and listen. Everyone in my groups disappeared, everyone except me and Micah.”
“…Micah came with us.”
“Exactly somethings wrong here, Lily and I would stay close but one day she asked a question and I just haven’t seen her. I thought maybe they were just keeping us separate but-“
“Y/N! Relax it’s an old folks home you’re just being paranoid what if Micah has family too and they just look alike?”
“With the same name?”
The girl shrugs. “I think you’re looking too deep into it.”
You scoff. “Fuck it, good luck with the white girl I hope you get to “hit that”.”
You slam the door once more putting the keys in your drawer after getting to your room the ankle bracelet secured the minute you crossed the threshold.
Camila lays down agitated. At you, at this place, and especially at JP for interrupting. All because he wanted to impress Micah.
It’s in the garden when they find a mark on Camilas neck.
“What’s that?”
“Hey watch it creep!” JP rolls his eyes before Big Mac helps.
“There’s something on your neck girl.”
“Something weirds going on.” JP catches sight of something familiar.
“Hey Greta, you know my sister loved making those too..” the woman begins to freak out making James and another staff member step in pushing aside JP who clutches the forgotten cootie catcher between his fingers. Big Mac appearing next to him.
“Yeah definitely something weird.”
Camila looks around the garden, the pool, and the cafeteria before she finds you in the common area helping someone play bingo.
“Y/N!” You spin to her in surprise eyes going over her to make sure she’s ok before going back to the task at hand.
“What camila?” She sits next to you attempting to control her breathing.
“You we’re right somethings going on and-“
“Great I was right!” You smile sarcastically. “You can go now.” The girl stares at you incredulous.
“We have to get out of here-“ she whispers urgently.
“So now you want to listen to me.” You scoff. “Look Camila I did this for you and your mom I can’t go, I have nowhere else I belong.”
You lower your voice to whisper. “The ankle monitor key is in my drawer room 10. Take it and run.”
You sit back up with a smile and return to stamping bingo slots for the man next to you.
Camila stared for a moment. “Y/n-“
James appeared next to placing a strong hand on your shoulder.
“Everything ok here y/n?” You nod and smile politely.
“Yeah James I was just telling Camila they could use more hands in the cafeteria.” He smiles back at you before sneering at Camila.
“Well?” She gets up huffing.
.
.
.
A weird bird sound hits your ears before a big man drops from the ceiling.
“You y/n?”
You nod eyes widening as he shows the key you only told Camila about. “Camila said I can only trust you.”
“Where is she?” You sit up.
“I cant find her or JP.”
“Ok we need a plan.”
“Right. But first things first….you single?”
.
.
.
James laid unconscious on the floor by your feet as you snuck further into a testing lab. A quiet whisper yell filling the room.
“Camila?”
“Camila!” A small groan responds you find her strapped to a bed next to the nice elderly woman Greta. The longer you’d stare at her the more familiar she’d look.
“Y/n?” You turned back to the small girl clutching her had and looking over her features they hadn’t gotten to her yet. You tugged off the restraints as she went to help the girl.
“Lily you have to wake up.”
Lily? You looked again feeling your eyes widen, the boy was her brother JP. You almost smacked your forehead not realizing you should’ve made the connection sooner.
“What a shame.” James limped towards you. “I really did like you Y/n, we still have a chance to make this right between us.”
You yelled running towards him trying to tackle him he hit you in the back making you fall to the floor in a heap. He went to inject you with a needle when Camila jumped on his back. Lily in a wheelchair looking for a nearby weapon. She tossed you a bed pan as you got back up. James throwing Camila off him, when he turned you smacked him across the face with the metal.
“We gotta go.”
The doors opened revealing Big Mac and a giant group of old people.
“LETS GO!”
You, Lily and Camila went to find JP and Big Mac distracted the guards and find an exit. You all stopped when you’d seen him tied to a chair being circled by Micah and Eddie (the founder of the nursing home). Around you were meat grinders and body bags, you felt yourself grow nauseous as you realized what was actually being put into the meat.
“And this is why I’m a vegan.” You gave a dirty glare to Camila as you tried to find a way to help JP. She shook her head at herself. “You stay with Lily I’ll help JP.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“No”
“Yes”
“No”
“No”
“Yes! FUCK Camila why can’t you just-“
Soft lips pushed into yours once more before the girl took off towards Eddie, you followed after when you saw Micah reaching for her. Lily slowly rolling to get JPs ropes loose.
Eddie had tossed Camila aside breaking your concentration. Micah took advantage and tased you. She knelt by you a small sadistic smirk on her face.
“You were right Camila is cute too bad you won’t live to ask her out.”
A body slammed into her pushing her onto the meat grinder. As she went to get up her hair got caught on the belt.
“EDDIE!” The man in question was in no better predicament. Lily not only released her brother but a pent up Chris who was sitting in a cage ready to be the next burger for Dennys. Chris slammed himself and Eddie onto the belt wrapping his legs around him and holding him still as he ripped out his throat. The sound of the trios bones and flesh permeating the factory.
You walked over to Camila who was grabbing her side.
“You good?” The angry teen gave you a grin as she pulled you into her for another kiss. it took a moment before you finally responded but once again got interrupted by JP.
“Not to cockblock but we should probably get out of the old people meat kitchen.”
You both nod exiting the facility and meeting up with Big Mac.
“MAMA WE MADE IT!”
You look down to Camila who shakes her head at him. You dip down to place a kiss in her cheek making the girl smile and look up at you.
“Let’s go home mi amor.”
“Oh shit y’all lesbians?”
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