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#IT WAS A GOOD ONE I HAD A LOT OF FUN AND SLEPT SO MUCH
willows-arts · 23 days
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILLOW!!!!🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🍾🍾🍾🍾🍾
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THANK YOU SUNCKEY AAAAA
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toastsnaffler · 10 months
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nvm im too tired and overstimulated for this shit
#.vent#i only slept a couple hours last night man. i cant do short notice evening socials on an empty tank let alone resist unexpected rsd#if they had let me know earlier then i wouldve taken a nap and worked out beforehand to get my energy back up#idk just. if u rly want my company then maybe u should actually invite me next time. its not like they didnt plan it#even if they just forgot its not particularly pleasant to be the one person insignificant enough to forget abt. theres only 5 of us#they rly remembered to ask the one guy who isnt even here before me yknow. ugh u see the stupid thoughts i have to battle!!#like on a rational level ik it was probably genuinely accidental. but the way i instinctively react is not always rational#so regardless someone has to deal with the emotional fallout and thats me. regulating this shit is hard work even when im NOT tired asf#i really really dont want to be an asshole and spoil anyones fun bc its no-ones fault + as real as it feels to me rn ik im overreacting#but i cant voluntarily expose myself to personal triggers when im already exhausted + more vulnerable than usual#so just gotta shut myself in my room and deal with it in my own super healthy ways as per usual. may they never fucking find out#trying my best not to be an asshole i hope to fucking god they dont think im being an asshole i just told them i was tired + i meant it#this wouldnt be so much of a problem if it hadnt happened to me before. and also ik its bc one rsd trigger makes me more sensitive-#to picking up unrelated cues but there ARE other things they do that i find ostracising which rly dont fucking help. but-#theyre not things i can actually confront them abt so usually i just gotta deal w it which is fine but it lowers my general tolerance#its ok. its ok i like them all a lot theyre lovely ppl and it doesnt matter if there is a some grain of truth in the things im thinking#bc the risk of me believing + acting on a bad faith irrational thought leads to outcomes that are far worse than those from#misidentifying someones malicious behaviour towards me as neutral by accident/in good faith. okay im done now i think#just ignore me spewing out the old brain gunk on main again eurgh anyway im gonna go calm myself and read and SLEEP#ill be normal by tomorrow morning farewell comrades#honestly i dont mind dealing w shit this way bc its the best option for everyone but man. sometimes its so fucking lonely#like there are sides of me ppl will never engage with and for good reason but without them being acknowledged i find it rly hard to feel-#any real emotional intimacy or closeness with another person. but what other option is there#i sure as hell dont miss the fights i used to constantly get into when i wasnt able to regulate myself i lost so many friends that way#it is what it is. on we go for now
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salamancers · 1 year
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guess whos just had surgeryyy~~~
technically it was, like, this morning, but i only now came home to my parents place after spending hours in the car so! still counts even if it took around 13 hours from after the surgery was done until i came home heh
i have four brand new holes in my stomach and one less internal organ and for some reason i feel like this is something to *brag about* lmao
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.” 
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 
Their omega. 
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 
Maybe they did need you after all. 
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 
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Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 
You went into heat. 
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
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He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 
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3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 
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Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 
They’re both in for a long night. 
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hexagonaldecency · 2 years
Text
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#having a bad night and need to scream at the void#yesterday (well. today but it's 3 AM. so earlier today but technically yesterday) was not a good day#woke up with a strong headache#focused on one spot which made me worried since I dont usually have headaches like that#so I stayed in bed.#I was supposed to go to uni and do stuff#slept until lunch time. was considering if I was going to uni in the afternoon while struggling with executive dysfunction#managed to get out of bed and have lunch. immediately god another headache.#didnt fall asleep again which is good. I've been having issues with sleeping too much so I'm trying very hard to stay awake during the day#but I spend all afternoon in bed. which is not good#today we had an event where a professor gives a light science lecture at a bar.#and the lecturer at a bar near my house was a beloved professor#so my friends and I planned to go#managed to shower. do the dishes. do my laundry. went with them to the bar. had a lot of fun.#we played billiards#I dont see my friends often anymore and I miss them#especially since I've been struggling with living alone and not having classes and feeling lonely#so I had a blast after being depressed all day#got home. came crashing down I guess.#can't sleep. which is a very rare problem for me#even when I'm not tired I usually have no issue just lying there. I love lying down actually.#but I can't right now. my chest feels tight if I stay quiet for more than one minute.#feel too numb to cry or have emotions.#and I'm terrified of not being able to do any work tomorrow#for a long time I've been depressed and on the edge of not being able to get out of bed#but now I'm starting to not be able to get out of bed.#and I have these moments of feeling good. of feeling great and happy. but then it ends and I know it'll take a long time to have them again#I need to be with friends and talk to them but they have work. they are busy. my boyfriend is 300 km away and even if he wasnt. he has work#I can't function. I literally can't make myself get up and get out to work on my stuff.#I am eating and showering and sleeping which I try to remind myself is already so good
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Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee
I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.
~
When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.
Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.
It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.
Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.
But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.
Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.
And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.
Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.
He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."
You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."
That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.
Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.
Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."
Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.
But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.
You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."
"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."
But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"
Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.
Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.
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etheries1015 · 6 months
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Hello! I love the way you write! Would I be able to request the reactions of some of the twst boys to MC telling them they snore (whether it's true or not)? I think Malleus, Riddle, and Azul would have fun reactions, but anyone you feel like writing would be great! Thank you!
Thank you for the compliment heuheu... much appreciated <3
When they snore
Featuring: Malleus, Riddle, Azul, Rook, Vil
General warnings: Gender neutral reader
Malleus
The moment you told him he snores, he was concerned. Was he troubling you with his sleeping habits? Were you unhappy sleeping with the fae because of this, to the point where it was noticeable? The moment the words left your mouth, he began to word vomit.
"Is that an issue? Is my snoring preventing you from getting a night of good rest? I...Suppose I could sleep elsewhere if it will grant you a full night of sleep.." Que him going down a rabbit hole of solutions, you couldn't get a single word in. Eventually, it came time for classes to begin, to which you hadn't the chance to explain your statement to the panicked fae.
When night fell and it was time for bed, his tail swayed sadly as he stood in the doorway. "I suppose I shall sleep out here, my love," He said, as lightning of vibrant green flashed outside your window.
As he turned his back and began to sulk away, you quickly ran up behind him with a bear hug.
"Malleus, would you stop and listen to me for a second?" You laughed, "When I said you snore, I was going to tell you it was cute. Like an animal snoring lightly. You seem so at peace curled up in bed with your light snoring..."
The lightning went away as fast at it had came, and you felt his tail wrap around your waist as he turned to face you, arms pulling you close.
"Ah...ahem. I apologize for my unbecoming behavior before, then. I...was rather saddened at the thought I caused my beloved to lose well-needed sleep."
He's never been called cute before, but he's also never slept in the same bed with another person. So I suppose there's a first for everything <3
Riddle
Snores like a cat. The first time you had slept in the same room, the first thing you noticed was his high-pitched yet soft snores that were short and far between.
The morning you woke up, the first thing you said was; "Did you know you snore?" Riddle blinks at you a couple times before hitting you with his annoyed face (you know the one.)
"Snoring is perfectly normal," He told you, "It's caused by the rattling and vibration of tissues-"
You got a lecture on the scientific reasoning behind snoring. When he finished defending the nature of his sleeping habits, you finally hit him with the "You snore like a little cat! It's cute!"
His face turns as red as his hair, as always when he becomes flustered.
"W-w-wha- a cat?! How dare you compare me to a cat! I..I am not a cat..."
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.." You seemed pretty guilty about upsetting him, he muttered "I suppose I'll let it go..." and moved on.
All in all, as long as you aren't losing sleep because of him, he will forgive you for your previous teasing statements. However, from that day forward, you have noticed his ears take a rosy hue with shy glances your way before he heads to bed...
Azul
"Did you know you snore? Pretty loud, too. Is that like...a merman thing?"
His face turns red IMMEDIATELY. He was so embarrassed. The first time he allows someone to be near him in such a vulnerable state, and he blows it by being a snorer. A loud one, at that.
"Snoring is not common for merfolk! Being under the sea, most don't struggle with such a thing...but I would say being above water, the air that goes through my soft palate-"
Great. Another scientific review on snoring. Only Azul, on the other hand, cannot seem to keep eye contact with you.
"Please don't tell anyone. You must sign on it!"
You spent an hour comforting poor Azul, telling him it's nothing to be ashamed of, and giving him lots of hugs and cuddles. But he still continues to insist you sign a NDA to the information you had uncovered.
He was incredibly shy about having you sleep with him again, yet you managed to convince him. Azul is much more insecure than you may think about his image, however, you always seem to break his walls down.
Although, you did notice he began to wear nose strips at night, with books on sleeping habits and potions to help with snoring...old habits truly die hard.
Give him extra cuddles for the existential crisis you had instilled in your poor octo boyfriend <3
Rook
Oh boy. You had no choice but to tell him. He snores like your average forty-year-old dad. You genuinely lose sleep over it, even waking him up
"Rook, Rook. Honey. Please. I can't sleep. Your snoring is just too much, I'm sorry."
He actually finds it kind of amusing? For some reason? He asks you excitedly to tell him more about the things he does when he's sleeping.
He didn't really take you too seriously until he noticed the physical wear and tear. The bags under your eyes...
"Mon Cheri! Your eyes...have you not been sleeping well?"
"Rook. Your snoring. It's horrendous. Please."
He spends an hour doing EVERYTHING under the sun to help his snoring, for your sake! Moving around how his bed is set up, mouth exercises, the way he sleeps...He refuses to use strips, he doesn't like how they feel, and says it prevents his senses from being at their 100%.
He finds a way to help alleviate it, and you end up investing in some sleep time headphones. You make it work, because dealing with his sleeping habits is better than sleeping without him~
Vil
"Did you know you snore?"
He stares at you with his jaw open and his eyes wide. What...what do you mean he snores when he sleeps? Does he sleep with his mouth open? Does he look utterly ridiculous when he sleeps? All of these questions he bombards you with.
"Vil! Vil. I was kidding. I'm sorry. You sleep so quietly that I have to check if you're still alive sometimes. You're like a sleeping statue of perfection."
He was not amused. He almost had a heart attack and invested in the world's most expensive treatments.
Tackles you to the bed and ruffles up your hair, laughter ensuing at your silly little prank.
"Well, it's YOU who snores, potato. You're lucky I let you sleep here and not outside like a dog," He chuckles. He says this, yet you knew he loved you too much to go a single night without you by his side.
A link to my masterlist
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imbored1201 · 4 months
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hiii!
could you write something where teen r lives w ona and is always attatched to her but then lucy moves in with her and now r is upset bc she has to actually use her own bed and ona ends up buying a new bed or something.
:)
Ona’s Follower
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Lucy x Ona x Teen Reader
Word Count: 2k
Yours and Ona's bond ran deep; the two of you had played in Manchester together. You were just 15 when you started playing with her; it was your first season coming from the academy, and she convinced you to move to Barcelona with her.
She always took care of you, and you practically followed her everywhere. She enjoyed the company though, teaching you everything, like how to cook her favorite Spanish dishes and even trying to teach you Spanish.
You feel the moment you really got attached to Ona was when she comforted you because of your frequent nightmares.
The two of you ended up being roommates when staying at a hotel with the United girls. 
You had hoped you wouldn't get a nightmare. That didn't go your way, considering you had one. 
You were woken up by Ona, who held you that night, and the next night, you had another one. 
Back at the apartment, you continued to sleep in Ona's bed. You realized sleeping with Ona helped you a lot since you stopped having nightmares, and it turns out Ona hated being alone in a bed to the point she had a lot of stuffed animals on her bed while she slept so she didn't feel alone. 
It was a huge win for both of you. 
————
You noticed something was going on between Ona and Lucy. Lucy was coming over every day now. You would always find them cuddling on the couch, and she would even pick you guys up to take you to training and games. 
You liked Lucy; she was funny and always brought you candy, and you always destroyed her in FIFA, so it was fun. 
————
Then the next step happened. Lucy moved in. You were panicking, to you, that meant you and Ona couldn't sleep in the same bed anymore. That made you disappointed, even sadder, watching Lucy unpack all her things. The good thing about it was that you were able to see Nala every day now. 
"Want to help me build this?" She was referring to a new dresser she had gotten. "Sorry, Luce, I need to go riding around." Lucy grinned, happy you were actually using the bike she had given you.
Ona was always complaining that you spent too much time in your room, so Lucy got you a bike, hoping it would motivate you to get out and go around the city.
That bike ride took a little bit longer than you intended. You did get caught up in your own head because, by the time you knew it, it was nighttime. Way past your cerfew. 
————
"Ona, calm down; she's fine; she probably just got caught up." Ona's eyes widened. "What if she got caught up doing something she isn't supposed to?" Lucy sighed, regretting her word choice. 
"Ona, she's a good kid; she knows not to do anything bad. She'll be back soon; you're tired; come on." Lucy led her to bed. Ona continued to stare down at her phone, waiting for any little text from you. 
She spent a couple of minutes lying down in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "She has a key, Ona. Come on, you have to let the kid do her own thing at times. She'll be back soon; if it makes you feel better, I'll stay up and wait for her." Ona sighed and nodded. 
By the time you got home, Lucy had already fallen asleep. She did wait an hour though; she was worried too, but once she finally received a 'I'm okay' text from you, that worry went away, and she fell asleep spooning Ona.
Once you finished your routine, you went to Ona's room. It was just a habit of yours at that point, and when you saw her and Lucy sleeping cuddled up in bed, something burned up inside you. Jealously and sadness. Tears started to build up in your eyes
You know it was probably childish, but it was just something you were used to. Ona had been your anchor; every time something went wrong, you went running to her. With Lucy there now, you felt like you couldn't do that anymore. 
You gently closed the door and walked to your room. It was weird sleeping in your own bed for once. You hadn't done that in forever; you grabbed one of Ona's hoodies that you stole and laid down, using it as a pillow. You hoped you wouldn't have a nightmare and fell asleep. 
————
Lucy was the first to wake that morning; she hated to admit it, but she completely forgot she didn't see you come the front door; she got lost in admiring Ona's beauty to remember. 
When Ona stirred, the first thing that came to her mind was you. She thought about last night and quickly sat up, not needing any time to fully wake up. 
Lucy noticed Ona's panicked expression when she looked at her. "What?" She asked, getting up. "Where's Y/N?!" She was panicky, walking out of the room to search for you.
Lucy quickly got up and followed her as Ona checked the living room and kitchen. Lucy checked your room, and there you were. Using Ona's sweater as a pillow and holding onto a stuffed teddy bear, Lucy won you at the fair. She even won Ona one, then bragged about being too good at everything. 
"Ona, she's in here," she quietly said, gently closing your door. Ona was about to barge into your room, but Lucy gently grabbed her. "She's sleeping." Ona sighed in relief and went back to the kitchen to make apology pancakes for you. 
"Hey, what's wrong?" Lucy put her hand on Ona's hips. "Fuck Lucy, we shouldn't have slept in the same bed. I'm sorry. Y/N, she always sleeps with me; the poor girl gets these bad nightmares, and they stopped when she started sleeping with me" 
Lucy looked understanding and thought for a little bit. "You know, we need to get a bigger bed anyway; it would be beneficial for everyone and maybe even encourage a little more action," she smirked. Ona raised her eyebrows. "Lucy, we are not talking about sex while there is a child in the bedroom."
"Of course not; that's why we send her to Mapi and Ingrid's. What I'm trying to say is, let's get a bigger bed so she can sleep with us."
Ona's face lit up, and she immediately grabbed her car keys. "I'm going to look at bigger beds," she told Lucy, and left. Lucy quickly took over, smirking to herself for being a genius. 
————
That whole day, you only came out to eat the pancakes and for dinner. Lucy took control and barged into your room. You ended up crushing her in FIFA again.
It was now 10 p.m., and you were thirsty, your eyes hurt from playing video games all day, and you had done nothing productive all day. Mostly trying to get used to the fact that your room was actually going to be your room for once. 
————
"What's wrong?" Ona asked noticing your frown, you jumped, almost dropping your water. You weren't expecting Ona and Lucy to still be up at this time watching their romantic movies. "Nothing, just thirsty."
"Come watch the movie with us." Lucy made room between her and Ona. You shook your head, "I'm going to bed." Lucy didn't give up, though; she got up and threw you over her shoulders. 
"Luce," you whined. She threw you on the couch, and Ona was quick to hug you, so you couldn't get up. You sighed, paying attention to the movie. 
You were exhausted by the end of the movie, the comfort of Ona being next to you made it harder to keep your eyes open. You let your head fall against Lucy's shoulder. 
"How about you two snuggle in tonight? I'll take the couch. Then we'll go get the thing tomorrow." Lucy winked at Ona at the last part. You were confused but too tired to argue. The bed was being delivered tomorrow morning; it was just up to Lucy to bring it in on her own and build it. 
Ona led you to her room, where you collapsed on her bed. “Did you have any nightmares last night?” She asked as she got in beside you. You shook your head, rolling into her body and cuddling into her chest. She wanted to apologize for making you sleep in your own bed that night, but you had already fallen asleep. 
————
Once again, you woke up to no Ona. You huffed and got up, stealing a sweater that you were pretty sure was Lucy’s. “Ona?” You called out. 
You heard the front door opening and someone grunting. Nala started barking at whatever it was, so you made your way to the noise, thinking it was Ona. You let out a sad sigh when you saw it was Lucy. You loved her, but all the woman made was eggs in the morning, and you wanted Ona’s special pancakes again.
"Where's Ona?" You asked Lucy, who was struggling to bring in a mattress. "Store," she spoke out of breath. 
"What are you doing?" You asked. It was pretty obvious, but your brain was way too confused right now, and you had to ask questions. She let out some deep breaths before speaking. "Putting in the new mattress"
"Can I help?" She shrugged. "Sure, pull it," you grunted as you did what you were told. Ona wasn’t actually sure if the mattress would fit through the door; she just hoped it would. "Finally,” Lucy said, when the mattress finally got past the door. 
You were Lucy’s helper, playing with the tools, giving her whatever she needed, completely forgetting about your hunger. She proudly patted your back when everything was finished. 
"This calls for ice cream." She put a hand on your shoulder and led you out. You looked at her confused, but just went along with it. "I haven’t had breakfast," she shrugged. "It's fine.”
————
"Kid, you know I'm not going to take Ona from you, right?" You paused from where you were eating your ice cream and nodded, but you weren't actually sure how you felt. 
"Ona adores you; trust me, in a house fire, she would save you over me." You smiled at that. “But it’s fair; I would save Nala before the both of you."
"You promise you'll take care of her?" She nodded before adding, "I'm going to take care of both of you, I promise." She put out her pinky finger, which you took with yours. 
"That's why we bought the new mattress; it's bigger so all three of us could fit on that bed," you had a confused look on your face again, "Won't you be uncomfortable?" Lucy shook her head and let out a little laugh.
“Of course not; at this point, you’re my stepkid, you’re my favorite stepkid, and Nala is my favorite kid." She smiled proudly at that, and you appreciated it in a way. "Thanks, Lucy; I guess I understand why Ona fell for you now." “I’m just charming, ain’t I?” "Nevermind"
————
You still didn’t believe Lucy was actually comfortable with you being there, which is why you got ready to sleep in your own bed again. Lucy broke into your room once again, a rare stern look on her face. 
“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, her arms crossed. “I don’t want to disturb.” Lucy once again threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the bed. 
She set you down close to Ona who smiled at you. 
“Sleep bebita,” Ona spoke, spooning you. Lucy got into bed, leaving you squished in between them. Lucy got closer to you, making you push her away. “You have all that space over there."
“Shut up and let me cuddle you." You rolled your eyes and squirmed away from her, but she felt you relaxing after a couple of seconds. Your eyes were closing, and in a couple of seconds, you were out.
“Thank you for making an effort with her, Lucia.” Lucy nodded as she stroked your hair. 
“I’m just the stepdad that stepped up, ain’t I?” Lucy grinned, Ona rolled her eyes, holding you tighter. “Buenas noches Bronze”
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smusherina · 20 days
Text
yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12
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Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.
Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.
Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.
You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.
Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...
Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!
You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.
I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.
Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.
I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.
You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!
You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.
The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.
You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.
You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.
It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.
"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"
"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.
"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"
"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?
"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.
"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"
"Stop running!"
"No!"
You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"
You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.
You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.
"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"
"Keep her there, Karen, very good."
"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.
"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."
"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."
"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."
"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.
"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.
"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.
"Why was it in your possession?"
"I don't fucking know! It just was!"
"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"
"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."
"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."
"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.
"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.
"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.
"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.
You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.
"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.
"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.
Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.
Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.
You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.
"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.
"What?" What the fuck was going on?
Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."
"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.
"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.
"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.
"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"
"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.
"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.
"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."
"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.
"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."
"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."
"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.
"You aren't the first to tell me that."
"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."
"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."
"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"
"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.
"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.
"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.
You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.
"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."
"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."
You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.
"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"
"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.
"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."
"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.
"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"
"I'll be the new Regina George."
"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"
"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.
"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.
"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.
"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.
"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."
You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."
Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"
"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."
Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.
With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.
You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.
You'd just be another mean girl.
Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.
Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.
I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.
Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018
(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)
(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)
(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)
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This is my modern/roommate au for them 💁‍♀️ I had a lot of fun coming up with the paragraph part :)
East Blue Crew Modern Au
Grand Line Crew Modern Au
Friends We Made Along The Way
Friends We Made Along The Way Part 2
Please excuse any typo’s my drawing program’s spelling check isn't the best 🙃
Some additional head-canons:
Even though they have an apartment they live and pay rent in, none of them are ever home, much. Luffy’s sleeping over his friends’ houses after hanging out with them, Ace is pretending he’s homeless, and Sabo sleeps at the hospital most of the time. sometimes two of them will be home at the same time, but its almost never all at once on any given day.
Even though they are never home, one day of the week is sacred. The day that no matter what they come home and spend the day together. Thursday. Laundry day
Luffy odd odd jobs done in the past include: possum wrangling, “get my friend out of that tree please, he’s drunk and i don’t want to call the cops”, PC setup (he didnt know anything about it, but somehow he got it all right. Somehow.), performing at a party, assisting in a lab, impromptu chore-boy, and many more.
Nami takes care of Luffy’s Odd job finances and makes sure he gets paid the proper amount. He lets her take a cut, and even though she does indeed want that money, she unfortunately knows Luffy needs that money more than she, so she doesn’t take it. The amount of self restraint she exhibits astounds even she. She is truly a saint (according to her).
The only laws that Luffy knows are 1) his friend (self proclaimed) Law and 2) the Miranda rights, as he heard them while Sabo was getting arrested that one time.
Luffy thought the Law lecture he went to was supposed to be talking about his friend (self proclaimed) Law. He wanted to support his buddy (self proclaimed), not learn about federal law!
No one has kept track of how many times Sabo has went to jail. whenever he’s asked, he changes the number every time.
Sabo had the absolute worst time getting that big ol’ tattoo across his arm. He cried a couple times through it, although he would never admit it. It was an investment that he was willing to make, however, and he thinks it turned out sick as hell. So does everyone else. Because the tattoo is sick as hell.
Ace watch shenanigans:
“hey ace, what time is it” “One sec,” he checks his watch “uhhhh 10 at night” (Its clearly the middle of the day) “Thanks, man”
Dadan calls to check in on them every Thursday night. She pretends she doesn't care about them, but the reality is not looking good for her.
Sabo has been a childhood friend to Luffy and Ace and has slept over the house they lived in with Dadan many times, but he didnt actually come to officially live with them until he was finally kicked out of his parent’s house when he was 16. Dadan has always been more of a mother to him than his biological one ever was and he treasures her even though he says he doesn’t. Actions often speak louder than words, as the two are literal besties despite both verbally expressing their disdain for the other more than praise. Sabo is clearly her favorite of the three brothers and she's the most lenient with him (which is something they all exploit).
Luffy and Ace come to live with Dadan in the au the same way they live there in canon, their fathers are not present in their lives and Garp dropped them both off at her doorstep and expected to take them in.
That’s all I got for now. These guys are fun and I love them very much :)
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bhaalble · 6 months
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Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.
Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".
Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.
Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...
Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.
And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?
You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.
For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.
Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?
Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.
But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.
All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.
From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.
What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.
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salaciousdoll · 8 months
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꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷
•┈୨Chapter I୧┈•
•┈୨please be advised to the warning before continuing୧┈•: first part is memory from childhood and high school, second is college au, hyper-feminine!reader, Bimbo/ditzy reader, chubby and black reader in mind, Fem reader, angst, sexual things implied, Strict Levi for a reason, strict Nanami, reader gets into a lot on her first day, false reality of boarding school on purpose, Private College au!, DARK CONTENT, Reader daddy issues is high in this chapter, reader hates her father and some parts of her mother, divorced parents, people around reader doing drugs to ease their pain/ ed in your past, self indulgent, the professors are pervs and so is the reader, taboo, professor Choso getting head but not from a student unlike the mention of Gojo getting head from a student, reader walking in on him, can you all guess who’s your first class teacher is( hint is the next chapter), reader is hyper sexual, masturbation mentioned, Art professor!Choso, Statistics professor!Nanami, Sociology professor!Levi, Maki and Mikasa are friends because I said so, sasha, todo, and Connie are friends( Jean too), Eren is sneaky/ smooth, let me know what I miss. Wc: 7k
゚•┈୨ Song for this Chapter୧┈•゚。: Boarding School- Lana Del Rey
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from salaciousdoll: I hope you all have fun reading this and just know this is the beginning and it’s only going to get more worst and better at the same time.
Masterlist taglist next chapter
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Four years ago, you were in boarding school, the worst boarding school but the richest one in your city. You were with nothing but snotty kids who lived off their friends' applauses and family’s money inheritance. It was fun but traumatizing. You hated your dad for sending you there all because you did, in his words, the unforgivable. It was nothing except just breaking into the Base stadium where concerts, big football and baseball games were held for your city teams. Teams that weren’t that good in your opinion, but you don’t know shit about sports to give an opinion about it.
Boarding school was an experience no teenager should experience unless they can’t function at a public high school or just plain crazy. You hated how you couldn’t wear anything you wanted, hated the ugly and stupid uniform— wanting to puke every time you saw the bad blue-green combo plaid skirt, which was long and that definitely wasn't to your taste. You hated the kids turning their nose and mouths up at you whenever you passed by all because you were rich with a different skin complexion than they had, a combo they acted like is out of this world. You missed your friends, the fun life you had, and the parties they used to throw— now you can’t do any of that. Bummer!
This school was filled with girls who slept with each other boyfriends, boys who prey on their next victim for who knows what, and finally the teachers having affairs with other teachers. Fucking horrible. If you said last year that the dad who loved you before the age of 5 would send you to a school like this— you would laugh. Laugh real hard because you’ll wonder where the hate comes from. Your dad loved you when you were the ages before 5. Then at 17? Now in your 20s? Not so much.
You could guess it started when he started seeing other women in the open relationship your parents decided to have. Ever since that agreement he has acted as if you don’t exist, only gives you money and when he does, it’s through your mother. If you needed cash, she’d hand it to you from his hands. If you need his black card money then he’ll send the money to her card, Cash App, Zelle, PayPal, etc.
The day you saw your father give his love that was supposed to be for you to another woman’s daughter everything cracked around you like the world was made of glass. Everything was made of glass around you and on that day, the glass burst and cracked around you with a domino effect to it— starting with your glass heart. You were 17 seeing your father smile and laugh with another teenage girl. A girl who had different everything to you, you pieced together that this was his ideal daughter. The daughter he always wanted, the graceful daughter, goody two-shoes daughter, the daughter who just looks so much more professional and classy than you. Feeling a warm pool build up in your eyes was enough for you to hate him and her, hell the entire family.
You thought that going over to him and saying his assigned name since your birth would make him realize that he’s done you wrong. Oh how wrong you were, the feeling of betrayal and hurt was around you four as you stared your father in the eyes with a vicious glare— matching his energy. It almost looks like he wanted to kill you because of you calling his name like that. He was with the family he always wanted and yet here you were. A disgrace to his reputation. Madness was lurking over his shoulder as you kept calling him “ dad”. After the tenth “ dad” he snapped— yanking your arm to drag you away. After finally getting away from their ear shot he angrily stated the words of “ What did I do to you and your mother to deserve unhappiness.” He gripped your arm even more harshly through rough, hot tears. “ You two make me sick. She makes me sick.”
Your father dropped your arm like he was touching a garbage truck full of garbage. He looked you in your beady tear-filled eyes. “ You.” The pause after that was long and flowing through the summer breeze. You wanted it to stay long because the next words that utter out of his mouth broke you mentally and emotionally. “ You make me sick. Hate how I’ve grown to hate my own daughter, my only daughter but you caused this. Your mother caused this. I’m not happy.” The repetition of the last sentence through his broken voice was enough for you to walk away from the crying man-child of a father you once knew. You remember walking past the same teenager with her mother laughing and smiling as they showed each other videos on their phones. Shit! the longer you look the more you see what he’s talking about. Because they’re happy and healthy, they make him feel happy and healthy as well.
That moment was the moment you started to get into more trouble. Throwing parties on boarding school campuses, watching the girls and boys do drugs with a spoon and lighter to stop their food cravings knowing full and well their anger for themselves were going to eventually come back on you since they didn’t want to be “huge like you”, watching student and teachers do coke lines to past by time of torture, watching the senior boys chase after the younger classes, you were included multiple times— turned down every last one of them with a quickness. You wanted your teacher. Too bad he left before you tried to seduce him. Afterwards, You started watching the teachers fuck in the spots they never knew you knew of— enjoying it a little too much as your hand traveled south as you watched. You wanted attention to thrive off, so you made a value to yourself on becoming the popular girl of your city boarding school. Man did you have the time of your life there— in misery and gold.
You thought that going to a 4- year public university was great for you. It was, for the first two years. You were glad that you could start over there because nobody knew of the boarding school you mentioned when they asked about your old life. A clean slate was good for you especially in a college as big as this one. The classes were more big and diverse than any school you went to. You were so glad that you picked this Marley tech university because you got more friends with different ethnic backgrounds and the same ethnic backgrounds as you. You didn’t stick out like a pretty pink thumb, you fit more in where you were. Taking classes with all of your friends and getting into the fashion designing major you promised yourself to take when you were in high school was everything you wanted.
It was suddenly swept away from you like a tablecloth with dishes stacked on top of it accompanied by the angry couple arguing about who’s in the wrong. Your mother was to blame. She wanted you close to her because you're the last person she had as family since your dad divorced her and completely cut her off for the same woman you saw with the girl that brought your father happiness. After he did that, you cut off anything concerning him— using your mother’s money and sugar daddies you met online or out with friends to get you by in school. You hated working for yourself because doing anything that chipped your nails was annoying and honestly jobs are overrated, you wished that the world was free.
You didn’t even know how your father was living and honestly you hoped he perished alone and alone only. He hurt you but hurt your mother even worse. She now had stress building up and the fear of abandonment is heightened more than ever so that’s why you had no choice but to agree with her sending you to the Private college near her so she feels more comfortable. No worrying, no stress but what about your happiness? Are you ever going to get that? Happiness shouldn’t be hard to achieve and sadness shouldn’t be easy to achieve either.
You thought back to your childhood and recent decisions— soon feeling your eyes get glossy. You hurried and fanned yourself to stop the tears running down your face in your pink hello kitty mirror you held in your hands. Muttering to yourself as you close your hand mirror with a snap, “ Can’t afford to look like a Billie Elilish single on my first day at this rich ass private school.” Your driver gave you a nod in the mirror when you locked eyes with him, “ You look amazing, little l/n. Have an amazing first day back and at a new school. Do you want me to pick you up or bring your car to park it in the parking lot, ready for you after classes?” You were so glad for Timothy, your father's maid/ business partner. He always looked after you like your father should have. You were forever grateful for this kind man.
You rubbed your glossy lips together, releasing them with a satisfying pop, “ Just bring my car, Tim. I will try to have a good day today and tell my mother to take an ibuprofen for her headache. She was worrying too much about my first day of school and boom, a headache.”
Tim smiled at you and nodded his head to your task you assigned him to do. He watched you get out of the car and stare at the school in front of you. The school wasn’t big, it just looked old money looking. What a bummer! As you walked past the entrance gate with your light-pink Medusa Versace heels and pretty white leg warmers covering the top straps of your heels. Your outfit was fall ready just in pink. The more you walked in, the more you wanted to turn back to your freedom, your happiness, your peace, meaning wanting to go back to your other college. This was even worse than boarding and public school because nobody dressed like you. They all were dark and neutral colors like ewww, “ don’t they have a sense of fashion anywhere here?” You hadn’t realized you muttered that out loud until you heard a gasp next to you.
Locking eyes with brown eyes startled you as you dropped some of your books on the ground. The person laughed and held up a hand to stop you from picking up your books, “ I got it, didn’t know you were clumsy.” When he got up you just now noticed his pink hair sprouting out on top of his head, “ I’m Yuji itad-”. A voice interrupted his introduction, a bone crushing interruption really, you came to that conclusion from the side hug the white haired man gave him , “ Itadori, you know you’re not supposed to be on this side of the campus.” His deep voice has a sing-song tone to it as he stared at the side of the boy’s face with black shades on his head and a pencil behind his ear. “ I should write you up, but I don’t feel like following the rules just now, keep this between us. I, also, know Fushiguro is here to get the house keys from his lousy father, so it’s best you go now. Feeling generous enough to let you go. I’ll even pretend you weren’t here and let you leave in 10..9..8”
Once he stopped counting you realized that this must be a rule at this college for underclassmen to not be on the same campus as the upperclassmen and you also realized that the boy named Itadori didn’t let him get to 7 before speeding off to walk to a spiky dark-haired boy who was walking ahead ignoring the two conversation just a minute ago. You were about to walk until he spoke again, “ You must be the new student, { reader}, what a beau- beautiful view here at this school. You would enjoy the views from classrooms. My name is professor Gojo, it’s gonna be an interesting year for you so hope you make the best of it… I’ll take you to the head of the school’s office to let you get situated. You should’ve enrolled in your classes over this summer, so all you need to do is to get your books you need and all that other school stuff you kids need now- a- days.”
You tilted your head at what he was trying to say in his first sentence and raised an eyebrow at his explanation and from what you see and hear as a first impression— he seems laid back, the laid back teacher or coach you always fall head first for so you’re gonna stay away from him and pray you don’t have a class with him.
The entire walk to the principal office was annoying and nerve wrecking. Nerve wracking because he was so tall, handsome, and down to earth. Granted you weren’t short but damn he had to be about 6’6 or something. Then he’s talking to all the students and teachers you both passed by, the same students and teachers watched you two walk past with curious eyes wondering who’s the new girl with their favorite coach. The key reason they knew you were new is because this is a private school where everyone knew everyone’s face even the teachers knew who everyone was by name and face. They had two campuses though, one for underclassmen and one for the upperclassmen, that’s all you paid attention to as you now stood in front of a black wooden door with a big glass to let you see inside of the organized office.
You were genuinely confused that they even had a head office at this school because that’s not normal in public colleges, you barely even saw the head of the school, so this is another thing that’s different. Coach Gojo knocked on the door before placing his large veined hand on the door from behind your frame since he was standing behind you, you didn’t realize he was this close since you were inside of La La land in your head, so in response, goosebumps formed on your skin and you tried to be subliminal with your shiver, but he noticed and almost wanted to let out a low chuckle. The head of the school answered the door with a low, “ Satoru, what now? A kid walked out of your lesson again because of the jo-” he stopped his sentence once he saw your pretty eyes staring at him in curiosity of what he was about to say. There was a story behind your eyes and he could tell off first glance in them.
He then looked back at Gojo, who was now wearing a smug smirk on his face because he knew Yaga was captured by your unique aura. He was going to figure you out in a week like he always does his student. On the other hand, Gojo was now standing on the side of you— his eyes didn’t mean to travel down, but the pink off-shoulder knitted cardigan was outlining your chest perfectly and your thighs were perfect with that skirt you had on. He cleared his throat with a hand swiping over his face because he shouldn’t be looking at another student like that when he already had one in his coaching office, just previously giving him head before she had to go to his psychology class. This college was great for academics but fucked up for morals, you’ll soon find out.
“ Yes please wait here and I’ll give you the things you need while I show you around the school. I got it from here Satoru.”, Yaga says, still not taking his eyes off you but you didn’t know it. He had on dark ass sunglasses so who would see how much he’s staring at you.
Gojo clicked his tongue and held up his finger, “ You can’t because Yeager is on his way to give her the school tour after their first class together.” Yaga wanted to strangle him from his facial expression alone because he truly wanted to know why he was so smug right now. Yaga nodded before allowing you to pass through by stepping aside, “ Come in and I’ll speak with you about the rules and such before he gets here.” You were definitely in for a long time here because the rules were long and boring. This was not at all like a public university because you could do anything just don’t let the RA catch you. Here at Kaizen Maria, you could be caught with a snap of a finger because it’s a small school and not too many people disobey the rules oddly enough. You tried to follow along after he mentioned no parties on campus, but it’s like once you heard that you zoned out because what the hell can you do now.
The Head of the school cleared his throat, “ Repeat the last thi-” you were so glad he was interrupted by a loud knock. He answered it with a come in and a tall brunette with long brown hair in the middle part and emerald-jade eyes walked in. The muscles in his arms stuck out to you so much because all he did was reach to close the door behind himself. He had a lean body and boy was he eye candy but not what you needed, just what you wanted. “ Sir. I was sent here by Mr. Ackerman to guide her to his class.”
Yaga sighed and motioned to you sitting there with your arms holding onto your pink notebooks and binder tightly with one pink led pencil and pen with pink furry ball in your hand, “ We’re all down here so if you will kindly get her to his class on time, she already missed her first class by being here with me.” Eren eyed you with something you could not place or far too dumb to place.
He held out his hand and you thought it was for your hand, so you latched your hand on top of his. He chuckled prior to shaking his head no, “ Your books, let me carry them for you while I guide you through the school on the way to class.” You let out a small laugh whilst handing him your books, “ I apologize then. Lead the way—”
He could tell you were trying to figure out what his name was from the way your eyes squinted, “ Eren. Just call me Eren.” You nodded as you two ventured out the building, walking to the building across from it. Sociology in the morning should be a sin, yet you’ll digress.
You two walked in silence until he spoke up, “ how do you like it here so far and you are really beautiful and your outfit is very cute but you’re a bit overdressed.” He ended his sentence with a light chuckle. You smiled at him, “ Didn’t even know everyone dressed so damn boring but thank you, Eren.” As you two continued to walk, you looked around to see bulletin boards filled with tryouts for sports or clubs. Looked around to see some students still walking to class. Not noticing how wide Eren eyes got after writing something with your pen. You didn’t see him do it because you were too busy looking around.
His mouth opened and closed because he was so surprised to hear you insult him and everyone else at the school; at the same time it was funny to him because you’re right. “ I wouldn’t say that in front of everyone else if I was you, wouldn’t want to piss off people on your first day, wouldn’t ya’?” You nodded your head and pointed your pink manicured finger at him in a “ You’re right” way as you two made it to the little classroom your sociology class was at. You watched Eren open up the door for you to walk in and when you did you were surprised to see that the class already started causing your anxiety to spike through the building.
“ Glad to see you finally made it, Yeager and- who are you?”, A deep voice says on your side. Once your head turned, you lowered your eyes to a short man standing near the podium. He had a short cut parted in the middle, clear subscription glasses on his head, and a black tailored suit with the suit jacket long gone— now he was in a white button up shirt that hugged his medium size chest. Your eyes traveled up and down his body without knowing that he was waiting on you to answer his question. He’s gonna have fun disciplining you.
“ Hey! I asked you a question, so I expect an answer. Who are you?”, the man repeated with anger in his voice. You jumped and cleared your voice, “ My name is y/n l/n, professor—” You looked down at your paper where his name was and looked back at him with a big smile on your face, “ Ackerman.” Levi stared at you longer than he planned because of the way your tits bounced when you rocked your body back and forth due to anxiety creeping up your back the longer the silence and stares got.
Levi pointed to the seat in the middle of two pretty girls, “ Sit there and be quiet, you interrupt you’re staying after for 10 minutes and I don’t give a damn about how late you are to whatever you do after class. Understood brat?.” You frowned while nodding your head at that because is that even allowed? What if you have something urgent to get to? I guess he just said fuck your plans. You then turned to walk your way to your seat with eyes watching you all over. Once you got to the row the two women were at, you whispered a low “excuse me” as you squeezed past the one with green eyes and short hair in a pixie cut.
When you finally sat down you noticed that both of them had their hair in a pixie cut hairstyle, just one with gray eyes and one with green eyes and glasses around her eyes. Both looked at you as you sat your pink water bottle covered in strawberry shortcake or hello kitty stickers sitting next to your pink notebooks and pens.
Mikasa stared at the side of your head as your eyes focused on Levi teaching the class about racial injustices and other things concerning sociology. You paid attention to the way he spoke with his clean little hands and the way he gutted into someone who’s not paying attention. Maki tapped your shoulder, “ Hey, I’m Maki, that one on the other side is Mikasa, she doesn’t talk much because she’s too afraid of professor Ackerman.”
You raised your eyebrow and turned to look at Mikasa who had a resting bitch face. You were about to speak to her but she spoke before you, “ Don’t listen to her if you know what’s good for you. Nobody is scared of the tiny elf of a man, if anything I want to step on him for assigning this much work for us.” You giggled and in reality of that it made them smile and caused the lecturing to stop, “ Let’s hear the joke, you three. Make us all laugh since you shitheads decided to interrupt my lecture…”
You three looked at each other prior to looking back at him, you spoke up instead, “ Sir, we weren’t laughing, just introducing ourselves that’s all. So sorry for the interruption, please don’t let us stay after for 10 minutes.” Levi scoffed, “ Did I say I was going to make you all stay, just for that, you’ll be the only one staying. Now interrupt my lesson again and I’ll make sure you all are banned from my class the rest of the week.” The gasp that left your mouth was loud and you thought that Levi was about to fault you for that, but he stated back teaching again.
You sat back in your seat with your arms crossed the entire lesson. You hated this class and wanted out. Didn’t have any motivation to pay attention because of his words. You were supposed to write stuff down— and you didn’t because you were highly upset. Once you have an attitude you didn’t have the energy to pull through anything. You hated that feeling and it was all because of that short old man.
Once class finished, students listened to what he had to say and you didn’t. “ read and annotate the syllabus carefully, I will be quizzing you all on that particular syllabus. Friendly reminder to read and annotate your sociology text book you were supposed to buy before stepping foot in my class. If you don’t have one, then I suggest you get one because I will be asking questions on that as well. Class is dismissed. Go be shitheads somewhere else.” Levi then stared at you staring off into space, he turned before a small smirk was plastered on his face, “ {reader}, get down here and explain why you were interrupting my class.”
You almost wanted to stomp your heels, almost. In reality, you quietly gathered your stuff and seen two sticky notes on your binder. One with notes and one with names/phone numbers from Maki and Mikasa. You will have to thank them after class, this was so nice of them. As you made your way to him another teacher into the door, two actually. One with square glasses and a bright smile on their face and one with hair covering his eyes and a goatee that suited his face. “ Leviiiiiii, guess what?”, The person with the glasses yelled out as they strolled to his desk.
He didn’t even flinch at how loud they were because his eyes stayed on you the entire time and because he’s used to them. You, however, was someone could see right through and needed to know more about you. He’s seen your last name somewhere but where. He didn’t even notice that four eyes and beanpole stopped talking to him and watched you along side of him walk down the stairs carefully.
Hange hurried to you and held out their hands, “ Hello, you must be the new kid we were alerted about, it’s nice to meet you, I’m professor Zoe, your biology professor and this hunk over here is Professor Zacharias, the anthropology professor.” She held your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world, caressing the top of your hand as she held it. Strange behavior for a professor but you’re willing to push past it because they were fine as hell. Three fine people and they were your superiors, oh how you will love it here.
Miche had his eyes trained on you and so did Levi. Miche was taken back by your beauty, so when he grunted with a nod of his head when Hange introduce him, he couldn’t find the words so that was the last option. You were on cloud nine when you heard the gruffness of his grunt. You needed to pull it out of him when you are riding him.
Levi hit his hand on the table disrupting you staring back and forth between Hange and Miche, “ Hey! You didn’t explain and I don’t like waiting, so tell me what I want to know.” You huffed and held onto your books even tighter to your chest, ultimately pulling your boobs up even more causing Miche to turn and fix his pants, Levi was so glad that he wasn’t easily turned on like Miche and Erwin, who’s not here because of his class going on right now.
“ I didn’t even interrupt the class, I just wanted to clarify that we weren’t laughing because of your lecture, we were laughing because of our names and the way we introduced each other.”, You say while taking out a pink lollipop and putting it in your mouth. Could you be anymore seductive? Fuck. Levi scoffed and rounded the corner to sit on the edge of his desk with a come here motion of his finger. You were confused as you came near until he snatched your sucker out your mouth— your saliva detaching from your mouth and the sucker. Following after that, he grabbed a napkin and placed the sucker on the napkin, “ No eating in my class, second rule in the syllabus. Reasons why you and the rest of your class of heathens need to read them carefully. If I catch you eating in my class again, you’re banned for two weeks— only learning virtually. Do I make myself clear?”
You wanted to cry because why is he so uptight and how will you deal with the fact that you lost your last strawberry kiwi sucker, “ Yes sir. I understand.” Your eyes watered causing him to curse under his breathe. You hated how sensitive you were and your dad was to blame. You hated when men yelled at or scold you and anyone for that matter because you’re not yelling at them, so why are they yelling at you.
He was about to speak when you’re 10 minute alarm went off. You hurried and turned it off, “ Set it for ten minutes so that means I have to get to my next class in five minutes so please let me leave Mr.Ackerman.” He waved his hand as a dismissing motion and you hurried and walked past miche getting a swift of his cologne, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you took in his smell.
As you finally got out the door, they all looked at your sucker before Levi picked it up and gave it to Miche. Hange gasp, “ Him?!! Out of us two, him?!” Levi ignored her and turned his back to them to erase his writings on the board whilst Miche was smirking with your sucker in his mouth. Truth be told, your taste along with the taste of the sucker was everything to him. He’s going to talk to Erwin and Nile about this. On the other hand, levi wanted the sucker for himself, but he saw how miche and Hange was eyeing it. He was originally gonna give it to Hange— only if they would’ve never interrupted his time with you then he wouldn’t have given it to Miche.
You, on the other hand, was rushing to your next class passing by catcalls and shouts, you paid no attention until you were in the building, climbing up the stairs to your next class, statistics 116. You didn’t even pay attention to where you was walking and bump into a muscular back. Shaking your head to get rid of your dizziness creeping up your body to your head, you heard a voice talking to you.
“ Are you alright, bumped into me pretty hard. Surprise you didn’t fall.”, The deep voice said as he handed you your pencil that fell. You looked up and caught the eyes of sea blue and you were so mesmerized by them. He had blonde hair covering his forehead and a pretty smile on his face as he eyed you.
You cleared your throat and smiled at him, “ Yes, so sorry about that, I’m such a Clutz.” You blinked your eyelashes and smirked at him. You watched in satisfaction as his face grew red as the blood in your body. He could’ve been easy, but you didn’t like boys your age. So when your hand touched his as he gave your pen back, you held eye contact with him until it was interrupted by people making kissing noises.
You turned to the sound to see two people hugging themselves and making kissing noises with one guy standing there with a smirk on his faceand his arms crossed. One was a girl with brown hair, one with a gray buzz cut, and the other one with a tied up ponytail and a beauty mark on his eye enhancing his prettiness.
Armin was like a turtle to you, cute and shy. He waved his arms around and told them to stop in a whiny voice and it made you giggle because in your mind he was the perfect sub if you were a Dom. After some more taunting, the buff guy in a black tee introduced himself, “ I’m Aoi Todo, but you can call me whatever you want.” He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, planting a supple kiss on your soft hand. You smiled and introduced yourself to all of them. The other two named Sasha and Connie were a funny duo to be around. They loved cracking jokes, one of them even said you reminded them of a Sanrio character and they were gonna call you that from now on. You didn’t mind, it just means new friends.
You looked at the time as they all talked amongst each other and let out a gasp, “ I’m late. Real late.” Saying bye to them and walking two doors down was something out of a comedy movie especially when they followed you— whispering amount each other as they watched you walk. You were about to touch the door when your hand got a tiny slap on it from Todo. You raised your eyebrow before seeing him open up the door for you to walk in and as you did, you blew him a kiss— catching it with his hand over his heart with a red hue coloring across his nose was his response to your actions.
Nanami stopped teaching and looked at the group of people who walked in, “ You’re late. I somehow expected this from those three but you, Armin, I’m disappointed but glad you can make it. Please take a seat.” It’s like you wasn’t there for a second when he was scolding everyone else. When he looked over at you, he paused and caught himself by clearing his throat, “ And you must be the new student, { reader}, it’s a pleasure to have you but I must warn you about being late to my class. Take this syllabus and have a seat.” He pointed to the first row chair that was positioned in front of his desk.
His deep voice was going straight to your pussy and you couldn’t help it especially the way his cuffs on his shirt was rolled and the way his glasses sat on his face and the veins lacing his arms. Once you got closer to him to take the syllabus, you got hit with a whiff of his cologne and whisky type scent— your eyes closed in bliss prior to taking it out his hands and sitting down away from Armin and everyone else that you just met.
You wondered how the teachers knew their names and their personalities already if it’s the first day of school. It was weird because normally professors have a hard time remembering names, you’ll have to ask Armin or Eren after this, if you see them.
All throughout class the guy and girl sitting next to you was trying hard to focus on what professor Nanami was talking about, but they couldn’t stop sharing glances with each other, ultimately speaking with their eyes. Reiner was way louder with his thoughts then Annie was. Annie stared at the side of your head until you looked over at her and smiled. She thought your smile was beautiful and unique because not too many people around her even smile or smile at her period. It was throwing her in a loop, meanwhile Reiner was trying to get your attention by putting his arm on the back of your chair.
You would’ve noticed the gesture if you weren’t paying attention to your teacher explaining the difference to proportions with anticipating patterns. You barely managed to understand anything he was saying because the way that he looked back at the students whenever he wrote anything on the board was everything to you. His eyes were so beautiful to you— only could tell because his glasses were off his eyes and placed on his desk, giving you full access to his eyes whenever he turned and asked a question to students he thought weren't watching or listening. You had a small fear that he would be the teacher to pick on you and a part of you wouldn’t mind. Just don’t yell.
The way his hair giggled in the nonexistent wind as he wrote on the green board was beautiful to you. The golden hair that parted in the middle and the cheekbones pulled you in completely. He was a beauty and you needed him. He was magnetic in a way, you couldn’t stop staring at him and him only. He pulled you in and he may be the first crush at this school for you.
You were too caught up in your ditzy thoughts that you didn’t hear him dismiss the class. You were surprised at how long you were daydreaming and he didn’t notice. You thought you were Scott-free because you didn’t get called on or caught so you gathered your things and made your way past his desk he was sitting at. The way your last name rolled off his tongue shocked and aroused you. His voice was so deep and soothing, “ Miss {reader’s last name}, I can’t help you pass this class if you’re not focusing on the lessons. I know you’re new here so I’m gonna give you a pass, please don’t let it happen again.”
You took a deep gulp of your saliva and nodded your head, “ I understand sir, please forgive me.” He nodded his head and picked up a stack of paper with a sticky note on top of it. “ Please take this to Mr. Kamo. Tell him it’s very important from Mr.Gojo.” The grunt sigh he let out at professor Gojo's name was comical to you because you sense that he’s either annoyed by him or just doesn't like him. You had a feeling it was the first one especially from the way he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
You slowly took the paper out of his hand and then bid him goodbye with a big smile on your face. Your big cheeks was heating up at the thought of his hand brushing against yours, sadly it didn’t— this time. You had no idea who Mr.Kamo was, so you asked around until a timid guy with black hair sprouting along his forehead gave you the directions and building he was in. Even gave you the room number too. After that encounter, you heard that his name was Yuta from his classmate calling him.
The walk to the art lecture hall was long because it was a block away. During that walk, you had your headphones in listening to your alternative playlist and you were loving the breeze on your face as you walked in your heels proudly. Your eyes wandered around you and you spotted a man in a suit with his hair in a half up and half down style— long hair flowing and a bun on his head. He was a gorgeous man walking out of the gym with a bag in his hand. His eyes were looking down to his phone and when he looked up they locked in on you immediately. You realized that he was staring right at you when you were walking past him. He couldn’t be a student, so he was a teacher but what teacher? If you didn’t have that class now in the fall, you’ll have it in the spring.
You thought if you locked eyes with him even longer than you did, you'd have to jump his bones, so when you passed him you averted your eyes to the building next to the gym about two spaces down. That was the building you had to go to and man was it big. You walked to the front door and were about to open it when a teacher- no security guard opened the door for you with a tight lip smirk on his face, “ Welcome, sweetheart.” His voice was fucking deep and soft at the same time, you didn’t even know that was possible but for the scar lip man, it was. You smiled at him and said thank you before walking off with your head filled with the scent of his cologne. He was a beautiful man with green eyes and black hair that dropped down his eyes— buff too. Strong enough to pick you up, so you are definitely counting on seeing him again.
When you finally got to the floor, you walked to the room number and softly knocked on the door. After a few seconds, there was no answer. You were about to leave it on the floor, but you decided to twist the knob instead and leave it on the desk. As soon as you opened the door, you heard soft moans and dick sucking noises from the back of the classroom. You hope they didn’t notice you, but he noticed you as soon as you opened the door. His low and hungry eyes were placed on you as the woman he told to come to his class was giving him head.
You tried so desperately to not get wet at the sounds of his low moans and whines she pulled from him when her mouth was working his cock like it was her last and final drink. The slurping got louder as you walked to the desk with your one headphone piece in and the other one out. You were so glad they could possibly see the right headphone piece in your ear, would save you more from embarrassment. You set the papers on the desk in the dark room with only the projector still on and made your way out the door until you heard a deep voice say thank you. You stopped and turned to him like a dumbass knowing what he was doing.
Your voice came out calm and collected, “ You’re very welcome, sir. Have a nice day.” You smiled prior to power walking out of the classroom and building. You didn’t know who he was getting head from and you should’ve had a different reaction but this school looked fishy as soon as you stepped on the lawn and plus the false advertisement the website has is enough to make anyone turn it down but you and your mother were too dumb and naive to realize, your mother just wanted you near her. Though you couldn’t see Mr.Kamo face properly, yet you knew he was fine just from his moans and voice. On your way to your car to go home, you noticed a small sticker with a phone number on it and Eren’s name on top of it. You were surprised to see it because when the hell did he have time to do this. You most likely wasn’t paying attention when he did it because you were too busy looking around the school when you two walked to your first, well second class today. You did not like calling men first but you’ll excuse this because you had a feeling you were going to love that call. Just like you are going to love this school.
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Tagging: @chosoist @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @emomanswhore @neesieiumz @simpingfor-wakasa @nutheadgeenat @honeybleed @angelshub
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゚•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.
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dyaz-stories · 18 days
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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
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Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
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You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
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He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
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“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
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“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
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sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
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house-of-lovin · 1 year
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legally binded
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | next part
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)
Note: Wrote a quick one, I don't usually write about real people so (this is all fiction, don't take it seriously) Can you tell I'm procrastinating on my other WIPs.
Word Count: 2.1k+
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“Blacking out at a strip club in Vegas, are you fucking serious?”
Jake, your manager’s voice thunders around the office. 
You sink lower into the armchair, casting your eyes down – ashamed. From your peripheral, you can see Jake pacing up and down behind his desk and yanking at his tie; roughing up his usually neat-suited appearance. 
“Is it bad?” You gather the courage to ask.
There was a lot of shit that Jake lets you get away with. He’s known since you were a young teen with starry-eyed dreams. Except, your dreams did come true. You were living it, working with respected directors and actors on prestigious sets and projects; it was a shot in the dark that you would ever become a working actor much less a critically-acclaimed one but Jake took a chance on you.
But no one had warned you just how much you had to give up in order to keep succeeding at your dream. Work breeds more work, is that what they say?
Well if that’s the case, it certainly felt like it. Since your first big break, you haven’t stopped working. Seemingly flying to every crevice of the Earth to show face at yet another event they had scheduled on your calendar. 
You could barely name the day of the week.
Being in your teens in the public eye was not easy and it hasn’t gotten any easier as you entered your 20s. So they can sue you for trying to have some fun for once in your life. Granted, you may have gone overboard with it… that much you can own up to.
“Is it bad?” He scoffs, reiterating your question in a mocking tone and if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have been able to stave off your annoyance. “Try the end of times… you got locked up in jail. For possession of coke. You can imagine the headlines.”
You wince, clamping your eyes shut. Yeah, that is bad. “It wasn’t mine! It was–”
“Oh, I know whose it was!” Abruptly stopping, he swipes a finger in your direction shutting you up. “You and your little boy-toy can say goodbye to each other ‘til Liv and I fix this goddamn mess.”
“I didn’t know he had it on him, Jake. And he’s not my boy toy.” Your nose screws up in disgust. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore. The media caught wind of your weekend away in Vegas with that singer. Did you really think no one would recognize you with a famous musician in a strip club? They have pictures of you in cuffs, Y/N – you’re lucky you didn’t get pressed with charges for drug possession.” 
You hear the tired disappointment in Jake’s voice and feel guilt crawl around in your chest. No words seem to be good enough to fix the mess you created so you stay silent. You can add this to the list of headlines he has had to clean up recently. You keep your head down, like a petulant child called into the principal’s office – which in this situation, was an accurate comparison.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Y/N.” A higher-pitched voice echoes behind you and theoretically, if it were physically possible to pass through atoms, you’d be 6-feet under the Earth’s crust.
Far, far away from Liv.
“I already gave her the talk, Liv. We haven’t got the time. What’s the plan to fix this?” Jake crosses his arms, one elbow propped to hold his heavy head up. The bags under his eyes were a clear indication that like you, he also hasn’t slept since he bailed you out of Clark County Jail – a mere 10 hours ago.
All you knew is that you were waking up in a cold, dingy cell with a nasty hangover and an officer shouting from behind steel bars that someone had posted bail for you. Next thing you knew, you were being escorted out the side entrance of the building and into a blacked-out Escalade then driven to a private tarmac where a jet was waiting to take you back to Los Angeles.
Liv is also someone you accredit your success to. Jake and Liv are partners and often represent clients together. You liked to call them each other’s work husband/wife. Liv is a tough lady, only in her early 30s and already one of the most sought-after PR agents in Hollywood; has a boss-ass bitch attitude and a resting bitch face to match. Where Jake often played the good cop with you, Liv was guaranteed to be the complete opposite. 
Liv rounds the desk, standing beside Jake. She was dressed in business casual clothes but her hair wasn’t done like it usually was – a sign she had rushed over here upon your arrival. Staring you down with a menacing glare before rolling her eyes. “You’re not gonna like it, but I don’t care because we’re way past doing things your way.”
You sit up, a little scared. Liv is not one to mess around with. If she says it’s something you won’t like, you might as well go dig up your own grave. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have an idea as to how to get some heat off your shoulders. Just until the press can find something else to fuss over.” She waves with a hand, furiously typing on her phone.
You and Jake shared a look, waiting for her to continue. 
“Well, are you going to tell us or not?” Jake huffs, throwing his hands in the air. Was he the only one in this damn room that felt like the sky was falling?
A knock interrupts before Liv can respond. “Hold that thought… Come in!” She holds a finger up, shoving her phone in her back pocket. 
You turn around, curiosity getting the better of you. Only, it was Jake’s assistant popping her head in. “Sorry for interrupting, sir. I know you said not to disturb you unless it was urgent.”
Jake runs a tired hand on his face. “Just get to the point, Em.” He says, not unkindly.
“Miss Olivia’s guests are here for the meeting. I was wondering if I can let them in?” The young assistant says timidly. Anyone can feel the thick tension in the room. No doubt she also saw the headlines plastered all over the internet of your face. There was an urgency in her mannerism that told you she wanted out of this conversation as soon as possible.
“Yes, let them in! Don’t make them wait.” She waves frantically. The door closes, leaving the three of you alone for a moment.
“Liv, what is this?” Jake asks before you can.
“Y/N, control your anger and be kind to our guests. This is for you, remember that.” She plasters a large smile with her last words as the door opens; multiple voices can be heard behind you. What the hell does that mean?
“Miss Ortega, great to officially meet you and Sarah, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.” Your head snaps to the side as Liv steps out from behind the desk to greet the people behind you.
The sight has you struck dumb. Why is Wednesday Addams in your manager’s office?
Granted, you know who she is. Who doesn’t? You can barely drive down any highway in L.A. without seeing her face plastered on some sort of billboard or building. But why is she here, in this office?
“Y/N I’d like you to meet Miss Ortega…” You were still rooted in your chair, just staring at them like an idiot. An uptick of a brow is raised as Jenna watches you remain unmoving. 
“Get up.” Jake kicks the back of your chair as he rounds the desk to greet Jenna and her manager, gritting under his breath. You spring up at the thud, rubbing your back in annoyance. 
“Nice to meet you, Miss Ortega.” You extend your hand when she finishes greeting Jake. 
She stood a good few inches under you, dressed casually in loose pants and a hoodie. She had a pair of sunglasses pushing her hair back, which was tied in a messy low bun; headphones around her neck.
You two have never crossed paths in all your years in Tinseltown – which was surprising considering you two are around the same age. There might have been an event or two that you had attended at the same time but you have never had the chance for a formal introduction. It wasn't difficult to see why the whole world was buzzing about Jenna Ortega.
“Just Jenna is fine.” She slides her hand in yours, sending a small, shy smile. The sparks you feel when your palms connect has you flinching almost imperceptibly. You see Jenna’s eyes snapping toward your connected hands telling you she may have felt it too. But before you can think too hard on it, you’re pulling away from her grasp. 
“Let’s all sit down, so we can tell you why you’re both here.”
Jenna takes the armchair to your left, and you fight to keep your sight straight ahead. “There’s no easy way to break the news. But here’s the CliffsNotes version. Over 24 hours ago, Y/N was arrested in Vegas. The press is having a field day, they already have the paps planted outside her house and every location she frequents. Our solution… a PR relationship, just until all of this has died down.”
You stare deadpan at Liv. Out of all the years, you have known her, this has to be the most balls-to-the-wall, bonkers shit she’s ever said to you. 
“What?” A sweet voice piques beside you, voicing out the shock you weren’t able to verbalize.
“A fake relationship, sweetie.” Her manager, Sarah says in a much sweeter tone than Liv could ever muster.
You can see her shake her head from your side eye. “We agreed to no PR stunts like this, Sarah.”
“I know, Jen. But with the recent controversy online… we just think this may be a good look. Liv called me last night and we came up with this plan and thought it couldn’t hurt with both of your situations.” At least her manager sounded apologetic. 
Jenna scoffs, feeling irritated and ambushed. “No offence, but I can handle a few nobodies online. And my situation is nowhere near as bad as hers. If anything how would pairing me up with someone who does drugs be good for my image.”
Your head snaps to her, nearly growling, “Watch it. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She bites back, turning to glare at you. “Is it not the truth?”
“No.”
“We got a drug user and a liar, great.” She mutters under her breath.
“Okay stop! You two don’t have a choice,” Sarah speaks up, sending Jenna a look you didn’t care enough to decipher. 
“Get someone else,” You say to Liv, ignoring everyone else around you. “Literally anyone else, please.” 
Jenna puffs out an incredulous scoff. “Screw you, dude.”
“Screw you too!”
“Jenna!” “Y/N!” The adults of the room shout over one another, chastising you both.
“That’s enough!” Jake shouts, getting you to break your intense glaring at the other actress. Jake’s tone slightly scared you, he was never one to raise his voice. And you knew you were balancing on some very thin and fragile ice with him at the moment. 
“This is the plan and that’s final! Jenna, everyone sees you as America’s sweetheart after the success of Wednesday. As much as it sucks, everyone is watching your next move, personally and professionally. And Y/N, you’ve been in the press for literally all the wrong things this year, and yet, the public can’t get enough of you. It’s good publicity on both sides… So you two will learn to get along – for the sake of both of your careers.” He says with a tone that leaned on threatening and you didn’t have the balls the challenge him on that. 
You had worked too hard for the life you have today just for it to be thrown away by a careless mistake. So if you had to buckle down and act in love with one of the most annoying people you had ever met, in world-record time, then so be it.
“How long…” You mumble, dropping your head in defeat.
“Three months at most. Less the quicker people forget about your night at the county jail.” Liv answers.
“Fine…” You conceded.
A few seconds of silence ring out before she answers, “Fine…”
●●●
Jake and Liv @ Reader:
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I swear there's a SpongeBob meme for everything.
:)
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I Want It All: Part 3
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Part 1, Part 2
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?
A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.
Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.
And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!
Word Count: 5.2K
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You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?
For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.
No tears came to you.  What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.
Still, it ached.  There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes.  You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.
All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.
You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.
With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.
You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them.  Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.
“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.  
You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.
“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”
He let out a small yelp of pain.
You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.
You frowned. Did she just kick him?
“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.
“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.
You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?” you asked.
“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.
Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you.  Yes, of course they would.
“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”
You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.
“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”
“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.
“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”
“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”
Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.
“It wasn’t like that.”
A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.  
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”
The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.
Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.
The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.
Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”
He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.
“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered. 
Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”
You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.
“Thank you,” you murmured. 
To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. 
“Anytime.” 
“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”
You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes.  No doubt he had heard everything. 
Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you. 
Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry. 
“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.” 
Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it. 
Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs. 
If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air. 
-----------------------
The next several days carried on in much the same way.  Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences. 
In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut. 
The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 
You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another. 
Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice. 
Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated. 
Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side. 
This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent. 
The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience. 
All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship.  If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more. 
The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp.  He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do. 
You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow. 
This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse. 
You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent. 
You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.
 A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 
It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.
You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?
A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.
His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. 
You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.  
“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. 
He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.
“I’ve had better,” he finally said. 
You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands. 
“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”
He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff. 
“Is this yours?” he asked. 
You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”
His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious. 
“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders. 
“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.” 
Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank. 
The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth. 
The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this. 
“Do you need more?” you asked. 
This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes. 
“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.” 
Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist. 
“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand. 
“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.” 
“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”
Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.  
He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?” 
“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad. 
“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.” 
You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.  
“Drink this.”
You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”
“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.” 
A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion. 
Without further protest you accepted the potion. 
This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve. 
He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional. 
This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give. 
Any nerves that remained slipped away.  You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past. 
Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had. 
“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”
A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin. 
“Oh?” 
He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”
You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much. 
“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”
He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.
“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”
He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light. 
Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”
“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.” 
You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”
Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”
“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.
“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.” 
He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you. 
Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”
“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”
His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.” 
Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure. 
Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers. 
“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”
Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.
“Pink,” Astarion blurted.
Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.
 “And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.” 
You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning. 
“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.
He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”
You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 
“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”
“Yes.”
Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward. 
Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”
“It’s not pity.”
“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”
“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”
You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide. 
“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”
Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.
“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.” 
He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control. 
“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”
Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful. 
“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 
He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”
You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul. 
It was true, all of it. 
By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” 
“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”
You averted your gaze. It was answer enough. 
“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” 
You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed. 
“What are you thinking?” he asked. 
You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time. 
“Do you even want to have sex with me?”
His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”
“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.” 
He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff. 
“Well?” you prompted. 
He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.
“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else.  Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”
You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind.  Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury.  He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him.  You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment. 
“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly. 
To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face. 
“I thought I’d made that obvious.”
With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate. 
“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.” 
The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable. 
Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much. 
In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.
He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water. 
“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm. 
Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist. 
“Are you alright?”
He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”
“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”
He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest. 
“Does it hurt?” you asked. 
He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”
You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help. 
“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. 
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”
“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.” 
A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”
Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh. 
“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked. 
“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.” 
He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow. 
You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own. 
He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced. 
It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.
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icallhimjoey · 4 months
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Define Close
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot
Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...
Wordcount: 2.7K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
One of those days.
You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,
“peperoni or chicken?”
And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.
“those my only two options?”
You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.
“joe”
There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.
“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”
No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.
“peperoni or chicken?”
“chicken”
You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.
“no i was wrong.” “peperoni”
The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.
“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.
“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.
Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.
“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”
Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.
He’d been right.
That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.
“You look like the inside of a shoe,”
Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.
What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.
For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?
You needed your bed.
Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.
You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.
From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.
“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”
All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.
“What happened?”
But you didn’t want to get into it.
“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”
And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?
“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?” 
You milled it over in your mind.
“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”
Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.
“Some pizza?”
And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.
He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.
“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”
You looked right past him.
“What... what kind of pizza?”
You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.
“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”
You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.
And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.
But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.
Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.
He hadn’t asked you any questions.
Not when you cried.
Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.
Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.
Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.
Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.
Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.
“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”
And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.
You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.
Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.
And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.
And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.
Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.
Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.
Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.
It was what he wanted, anyway.
He was well aware that none of that was normal though.
You were flatmates.
If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.
Flatmates.
But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.
Normal.
Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?
And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.
Why would they even assume?
You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.
Normal.
What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.
You never talked about it.
It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.
But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.
It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.
Which was fine.
You lived together.
There was plenty of time without other people there.
When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
“Joe?”
“Hey, bad news,”
Oh no.
Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.
“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”
You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.
“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.
“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”
You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.
“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”
“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.
You blinked at him a second.
“You’re not sorry.”
“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”
You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”
Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.
You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.
“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.
You grinned to yourself.
Joe was an idiot.
In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.
Sprite.
“Surprise.”
Joe had lied.
Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?
“I know it’s not your genre...”
It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”
You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.
You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.
“I fucking hate you so much right now,”
“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”
And so you did.
Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.
The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.
You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.
“You cold?”
“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.
Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.
The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.
See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?
Nothing was going on between the two of you.
Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.
So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?
So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?
So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?
Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.
But you never talked about it.
You were just close.
No questions asked.
Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.
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The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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