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#or how the world is against them and nothing is going their way
lipringlrh · 3 days
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HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)
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read: part one | logan ending
summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.
pairing: lando norris x gn!reader
wc: 1.8k
Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.
He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.
At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.
“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”
Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.
“I know, I didn’t mean to-”
“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.
“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.
“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.
“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”
Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.
“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.
Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.
Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.
You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.
“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.
“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.
“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”
“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”
After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.
The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.
He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.
You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.
He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.
“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.
“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.
“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.
“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”
“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”
“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.
“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.
He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.
“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”
“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”
“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.
Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.
“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.
“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.
“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.
Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.
“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.
You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”
“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.
You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.
“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.
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vagabond-umlaut · 2 days
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tempest in a teapot
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gojo finds nothing more delightful than seeing your annoyed frown in the middle of a storm— why should he need the sun to break through the gloomy clouds, when you're right there in front of him, huh?
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teen!gojo x fem!reader; fluffy & not-very-lwk sappy [xDD]; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you— you're compelled to tolerate him; he is sort of... obsessed w you but not in the toxic way yet; implied bullying [gojo isn't involved!!]; he wants to be your knight in shining armour sooo baddd; 'one-sided enemies to lovers'; 2.5k wc
belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna!
header frm pinterest // divider by @/isisjupiter // jjk isn't mine
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gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.
one, those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else— and two, those who aren't but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world— the second category housing no one except you—
tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when asked why he wishes to meet you out of all the people he could. that too now, the sky darkening from a mix of night and storm— that too, to meet you.
candy crushed between molars, gojo grins.
"let's just say i'm a little curious about her, shall we?"
then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy— if his six eyes were working just fine and not fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have known your location too in an instant or so... and not have had to rely on others for that...
the blinding beacon that your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self— he adds, "also maybe 'cause i'm a little in love with her— she's really sweet, y'know?"
whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.
utahime makes a face. almost as if she just bit into a lemon... almost as if she doesn't believe gojo can fall in love... almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... that last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's shoko's girlfriend—
but he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.
your cursed energy caresses his six eyes gently. something burns at the back of his two eyes. he begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him. the directions to you!!
"go down this hallway then turn right at the end. she will still be in the gardens—" the rest of the sentence doesn't reach gojo.
nor does anything else, for that matter.
nothing does. except for the steady thump!thump!thump! against his ribs and in his ears. and, of course— how did he even forget this— the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...
your smile is the first thing the boy notices.
so sweet. so sweet. it is the sweetest thing gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. the pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. legs swaying with the wind. gaze dancing over the fluttering pages—
everything changes in a beat— or perhaps even less than that— with your eyes no longer on the book.
they are on him. drowning him. suffocating him. squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.
your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "why are you here, senpai?"
"why am i here?" he echoes your query. your frown deepens. he grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "to see you, of course!! mind if i take a seat beside you?"
you do mind. gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so— shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.
your scowl stays unfazed, gojo watches, heart lurching and tumbling. falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head. and hums.
"why do you look so mad, sweet—"
"please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "and please don't pretend you don't know why i'm mad— acting like a fool doesn't suit you."
"acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," the boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. it's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. but he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now— plus, don't the two of you seem so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?
he continues— not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen. eyes narrowing a touch. lips pursed a pinch— he wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—
he allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.
"but i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" not really. gojo finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. but since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "— so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so you aren't sent to a mission, so you have a 100% chance of staying alive anddd your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"
"why are you here, senpai?"
obviously, to see you, silly!!
— is what gojo should say. is what gojo wants to say. but he finds his tongue numb and unmoving. rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...
if you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.
and the boy loves it. his six eyes love it. the boy loves you—
your brows gather close. his stomach does a flip. your voice assumes an adorably serious tone. "you didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, senpai?"
did he?
oh, gojo doesn't really know.
maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. but maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in otsu, shiga.
only fifteen kilometres away from the kyoto jujutsu tech— you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like— he decides it's not that bad.
not when you lean a little towards him. gaze narrowed. tone earnest.
"look— i know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that— but how about this? instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't i buy you a box of them gourmet chocolates? or, a ticket to your favorite band's concert? or, a gift voucher of your favorite clothing store— this is better, isn't it?"
better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.
but the thing is, he isn't. the boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you— he just wants to take you out on a date. always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—
making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. a very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.
slipping his shades off, he sits up. and offers a tiny smile. it feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.
"you do know who you're talking to, don't you?"
it takes you a while to reply. throwing back a question of your own. "is this you telling me i can't buy a rich guy's silence, senpai?"
he is. he very much is. but heaven knows why you make it sound this rude— the same as before, you don't stop speaking. not allowing him squeeze a single word in.
"but everyone likes free stuff, don't they? i mean, i'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. so minute, he almost misses it. but he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—
exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "don't you like freebies, senpai?"
he does. he very much does. even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—
"you're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now. extremely likely, forever. "i don't really get why utahime doesn't see you to be so."
you make some sort of a noise then.
it isn't exactly a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.
you hum, "iori-senpai is the kindest out of everyone here. if she thinks i'm not someone sweet... i don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"
"hell no," gojo mutters in that same instant— a little miffed at how you refer to utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say— not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—
for the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.
it's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a tad. in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.
he doesn't really think before adding, "the only bells i can hear when i look at you are—" you frown. he bites his tongue. perhaps... he should think a bit before speaking...
chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.
"never mind what i can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds— like, hell no!" he repeats. letting some force seep into his syllables. into his unwavering stare, fixed on you. on every minute expression you're making—
he really decides to think, however. softening himself on noting your shaky exhale. your nails digging into the cover of your book— he lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.
forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.
"feel free to text me the names of those dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way— but don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.
"i won't ask you out on a date in return for that— i'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as i asked you to— you will text me, won't ya?"
yeah. no. thank you. fuck you—
you say nothing.
nothing, nothing, nothing at all.
for a very painfully long ten seconds.
during which you do nothing except look at him— just look, that too! neither glare nor gape nor gawk— just a quiet, scarily quiet looking— gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.
and inquire, words so slow and soft.
"this isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"
"hey, no—" he rushes to explain. fuming at himself 'cause how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?— but as is the norm, you don't allow him to speak any more than that. cutting him off with yet another one of your queries— except this time, it's not so slow.
and more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it— "you did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"
no, he didn't. obviously, he didn't.
gojo satoru might be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them... something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much— but he finds himself not too sure.
thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.
and the torrential rains following not an instant late.
and the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold— only to come back to his face. wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—
gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. he tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away. his six eyes gaze at the trail of your addictively bright and hot— and his six eyes aren't talking about just the temperature— cursed energy—
the boy tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.
the thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. or maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...
yet another lightning streaks across the sky. he twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at the sight. features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—
gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.
or maybe he can die later, he changes his stance quickly. on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.
you huff when you reach him.
the boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—
crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.
and exhale a quiet sigh. his breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.
"next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that after your missions— it is very difficult to be mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"
[no... gojo doesn't really know.
but as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm— an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building— and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—
cans of green tea. chamomile tea. dark chocolate. biscuits. water—
the boy muses if this is your attempt to buy his silence. by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to tokyo...
oh. it's enough for him to not worry 'bout tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—
gojo smiles.
deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart— albeit... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?]
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hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
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Can I ask for prompt 13, Nightmares?
Yes of course you can! Here you go!
Summary: Astarion wakes from a particularly bad nightmare, thankful that you're right there when he needs you
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Astarion hates nightmares. He hates the way he’s all alone in them, running from something he can never escape. He’s always trapped, back against the wall, nowhere to go as his worst fears swallow him whole and then he wakes up with a start, gasping for air he no longer needs, eyes wild with panic.
He hates how pitiful he feels each time he wakes from a nightmare, wanting nothing but to curl up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest and cry. It makes him feel vulnerable, raw, naked, and nothing good has ever come from that.
He hates the way his skin crawls moments after he wakes, lingering ghostly imprints of the night causing bile to form in his throat and he shivers, wanting nothing more than to leave the tent but the fear that the creature of his nightmares may be waiting for him outside keeps him curled in his bedroll.
His clawed fingertips dig into the flesh of his arm, a quiet sob slipping past his lips. He feels weak, pathetic, and shrinks further into himself. He hates the trembling that follows suit, he can’t stop himself from shaking no matter how deep his claws sink in and tears continue flowing down his cheeks.
He hates how no matter how far he runs, Cazador is always there, taunting him, laughing at him, shattering his dreams. The vampire lord’s claws are always around his throat, squeezing all the air out of his undead lungs, the despicable choking feeling tearing his mind apart even though he doesn’t need to breathe anymore, the pain that explodes from where Cazador’s hands clench around his throat.
He hates hates hates hates —
“Star?” Your whisper slices through the haze, a light reaching out to him in the darkness. He whimpers in response, instinctively shifting in the direction of your voice and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.
“I’m right here, my star,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. He grips your clothes tightly, curling tighter into you as he buries his face into your chest, shoulders shaking with each sob. It breaks your heart to see him like this, curled into a fetal position, in pain and yet you can’t do anything to help.
You would do anything if it meant he would be free of all that haunts him.
Your free arm slips around his waist and you shift until your back faces the tent flap, blocking the sight of anyone who may happen past. He burrows deeper, pressing as much of himself against you as he can. You smell of warmth, safety, everything he needs right now.
“I’m right here.” You say again. You’ll say it over and over again until he fully understands and accepts what it means, no matter how long it takes. You continue threading your fingers through his hair, the rhythm soothing the vampire and his sobs begin to die down, his grip on you loosening slightly but he remains glued to you.
“Don’t leave.” His words are so soft that you barely catch them.
“Never,” you reply firmly. “Not for anything in the world, I promise.”
He keens, resting his head on your chest so that he can hear the steady pounding of your heart and suddenly he feels a little less alone in the chill of the night. It’s still cold, but at least he has your warmth to curl into when it gets too much. He can lean against you, knowing that you’ll be there to catch him should he fall.
You’ve given him so much in the short time you’ve been travelling together, more than he knows what to do with and he doesn’t know how to pay you back, or if he can even pay you back. Yet you never demand compensation for your efforts, never seeming to want anything from him, leaving him confused and lost.
Each time he wakes from his trance, he expects his side to be empty just like it usually is. He’s used to waking up all alone, picking himself from the messy sheets to clean up, feeling the coldness of the bed on the side he didn’t lie on, but ever since that night in the forest, the other side of the bed has never been cold. You’re always there when he closes his eyes and when he opens them back up again, sometimes curled into his side, sometimes wrapping him in your arms, but you’re always there, lying next to him.
It’s the only reason you know about his nightmares.
There are times when he tries to push you away, telling you to leave once you’ve done whatever it is you’ve come to his tent to do and you do leave, only to pop your head back in moments later with a lame and clearly made up on the spot excuse just so you can stay in his tent for the night. He tried forcing you to leave before but you stubbornly refused, so each time you throw him a new excuse, he simply sighs in resignation and lets you stay.
Tonight he’s glad he let you stay.
You gently rub his back, an area nobody had ever touched without causing him to feel sick until you, and he leans into the touch, yearning for something gentle. You can’t help but smile softly when he does so, noticing that he has finally calmed down and has stopped trembling.
He still buries himself in your arms, quietly pressing his forehead against your shoulder with his eyes closed as he takes a deep breath, letting it out with a shudder. His gaze flicks up, meeting yours for the first time since he woke up but quickly flicks back down again.
You don’t ask. You know he will tell you when he is ready and you’re more than happy to simply accompany him for what remains of the night. Still, you worry for him, this nightmare must have rattled him quite hard and you yearn to know the reason for his pain tonight but you hold yourself back. He comes first.
Astarion wordlessly tugs at your hand and you blink, confused but let him do what he wants. He slips his freezing hand into yours and you jump slightly, but quickly give him a reassuring smile when he looks at you with concern.
“Your hand is just a little cold.” You give him a gentle smile. He stares at you for a little while, as if discerning whether you are speaking the truth, before looking back down at your intertwined fingers, holding your clasped hands to his chest.
“Stay,” he pleads softly. You’re the only thing shielding him from the chill his nightmares leave behind, and he’s not sure he’ll survive the night if you leave.
“As you wish, my star.” His eyes light up at your words, a hint of gratitude in them as he curls up against you once more, still holding your intertwined hands to his chest.
“Thank you.” Those words barely scratch the surface of what he wants to tell you, but it’s all he can manage tonight, and that’s more than enough to you.
“Anytime.” With that, he drifts back into a trance to the steady rhythm of your beating heart, your warmth enveloping him. The nightmares still terrify him, but he takes comfort in knowing that should he wake up, screaming and sweating, you will be right there to pull him back to reality — the reality that he has you, always.
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jaeminify · 3 days
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behind closed doors — mark lee.
description ☆ short blurb/oneshot of mark cause... the brain rot goes crazy and i just wanted to write something quick but hot (i hope) happy readings!! im definitely working on more projects but just haven't gotten the time to get to them/continue them yet :)
warning(s) ☆ dom!mark, dirty talk, members outside of the room while you want to have quickie; nothing too major as it's a short blurb !!
not one of my best works as it's pretty rushed. feedback/reblogs are appreciated ♡
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"Y/N wait, wait— shit, okay wait hold on please."
Mark can't seem to help himself think straight, especially not when you're on your knees in between his legs while he's sat at his desk, laptop switched on to finally do his work in peace. At least, that was his plan until he saw you laying in his bed.
"You don't want this?" You pout, tilting your head up to look at Mark, knowing you look incredibly deadly in his eyes that he can't say no.
You have on a simple tank top, it's silk, if that detail even mattered, which it did to Mark.
You were wearing the nightgown set Mark had bought for you last Christmas in hopes to be lucky enough to see you in it (he has, twice— now three times). It's become a lucky charm to both you and Mark, but maybe more for you because you know when to wear it so you can seduce Mark.
"Fuck..." Mark can't help but run his hand through your hair, pushing back your baby strands and almost gripping the rest of your hair strongly in a makeshift ponytail.
"How can I say no to you?" He says under his breath, spreading his legs wider apart when you start to crawl closer to him.
"We can't, baby." Mark says, trying to strongly deny your advances towards him even when his eyes have become hooded that it's enough to know that he was undressing you with his eyes.
"Why not?" You whine, tracing your hands up to where his crotch is, still confined in his jeans, evident that he had just came home and was eager to start his work.
"My roommates are outside, Y/N." Mark hisses. His actions contradict his words when you feel his hands push you closer to where he wants you, nearer to his cock no doubt.
"Know you want my cock but I don't want anyone to hear how loud you are when I fuck you."
"You wanna fuck me?" You stand on your knees, inching your lips closer to Mark's plumped ones as you rest your elbows comfortably on his thigh. You enjoy the way his hands play with the strap of your slip-on, almost going crazy when you feel his fingers trace your bare skin.
Mark leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, "After I'm done tasting you I'm gonna want to feel you sweet cheeks." Mark runs his finger under your chin, "I'm not gonna let you off so easy baby."
Suddenly Mark leans back in his chair and unzips his jeans, sitting there as if he ruled the world and held control over every single person at the tip of his fingers.
He notices the dazed look you give him, making him tilt his head as his tongue peaks out to lick at his bottom lip.
"Thought you wanted to suck me off?" He says dangerously low.
He smirks when you start to blush, a familiar pink tint on your cheeks that Mark has gotten used to seeing after months of seeing you.
He cups your jaw with his hand, one of his fingers slip into your mouth to play with your tongue.
"Let's finish what you started princess. I'm not letting you out of this room until our clothes are off and the sheets are wet."
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satorusfelicity · 3 days
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recollections ⋆。𖦹°‧★
gojo x fem!reader
word count: 788
a/n: decided to practice my writing (bc I honestly suck at it) by writing fanfics!
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“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Satoru asks, although he already knows the answer. He always knew the both of you would end up here sooner or later; you did too, and so did everyone else. After all, life was only fair to its favorites.
“You know I can’t.” Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, glossy eyes trying to meet his, but he doesn’t dare to meet your face.
The people around you two are too busy having other places to be to notice the young lovers under a sign that leaves people like them with hollow, empty hearts.
“We’ll see each other again,” you promise, your thumb dancing around his wrist, trying to cheer him up. However, the white-haired sorcerer shows no hint of comfort from the action.
“And when would that be?” he asks, tears brimming in his eyes. He knew they'd end up like this. He saw this coming. But he was not the slightest bit prepared.
Maybe he was being selfish, Satoru thought. Because although you had a pain-stricken face, he also knows you need this; he knows that you two have to part ways. You’re selfish too, he deems in his head, dragging him along all these months knowing the outcome. Maybe if he wrote you as the villain in his novel, it’d hurt less.
You laugh as if it would help brighten the mood. Grabbing his face with both of your hands, you softly say, “It’ll be okay, 'Toru.”
And he nods, not having it in himself to say anything else. Thankfully, the universe decides to go easy on him as his lover takes this as her cue to leave.
Time has passed since he last saw you. Your voice is nothing more than an echo in his mind, and your smile, one he once knew all too well, still flashes in his head now and then.    
Everything seems to pass so quickly around him, but it’s as if his legs are frozen; he can't go anywhere else, forced to relive moments in his life he longs to forget. 
Maybe, he says to himself, maybe the universe isn’t going easy on me after all. 
His mind recalls the glances he stole before you two started dating and the awkward yet warming first couple of dates that happened not long after. Of course, in order to ask you out, he had to confess first. A chuckle almost leaves his lips as the projector in his head replays the moment you laughed after he confessed his feelings and how his body froze, realizing he was naive for thinking that you’d reciprocate his feelings. At that time, he didn’t know you laughed because you found his nervousness endearing. He knows this now because of the countless nights spent in your apartment, ordering takeout instead of reserving a table at the new five-star restaurant he promised to take you to one day. He’d take in the way your lips parted as his predictions played out on the screen in front of you two, only for his laughter to ring out in the apartment once he admitted to watching the movie the other night. That wasn’t the only secret shared on nights spent like this. With your head against Satoru’s shoulder and the credits playing in the background, you and him would retell the words written on the pages of your own youth and pour out what had you pacing at 2 in the morning.
The sorcerer's mind begins to wander further into the forest of recollection until the sound of his name halts him. Blinking himself out of his trance, he takes in his surroundings; the sound of footsteps coming from one retail store to another reminds him of where he is. Slowly, he turns around and sees you. 
Just like a scene from a movie, the world slows down as you make your way towards him, hands rubbing on the fabric of your jeans, a habit you often do whenever the nerves kick in. Finally reaching him, a small smile paints your face as you lift your head to get a better look at him. His mouth dries as his eyes dance around your face. 
“I’m sorry I took so long,” you break the silence.
It takes a moment for him to respond, but his eyes soften, and he says, “It’s okay.” 
He would never blame you for anything. 
The two of you stare at each other for a moment until he decides to wrap an arm around your shoulder with a playful smile. Walking down the hall, he guides you to the center of the mall, rambling about a dress he saw on display, leaving the sign of the women’s restroom behind.
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I love my silly little drama queen sobsob
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sweetbans29 · 7 hours
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Feud - CC
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Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)
Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending
Word Count: 4.4k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.
If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.
You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.
The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.
It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.
When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.
At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.
"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.
"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.
The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.
At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.
You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.
"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.
"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.
"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.
"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.
"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.
"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."
"Of course..." She says.
"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."
"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.
"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.
"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."
The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.
It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.
Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.
The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.
Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.
You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.
She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.
What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.
The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.
Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.
"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.
"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.
The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.
The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.
Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.
Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.
"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."
Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.
Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.
Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.
Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.
Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.
The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.
Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.
Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.
Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.
You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.
"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.
You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.
The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.
Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.
During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.
"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"
They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.
"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.
"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.
"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.
"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.
You take a second to compose your answer.
"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.
Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.
Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.
Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.
Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.
You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.
The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.
Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.
[Other half: You got this.]
She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.
Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.
The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.
The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.
When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.
[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]
Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.
[Other Half: Yes]
The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.
The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.
The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.
When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.
You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.
You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.
"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.
You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.
When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.
You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.
"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.
"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.
"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.
"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."
Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.
"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.
"No, you have nothing to apologize for."
"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.
She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.
The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.
When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.
Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.
It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.
As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.
You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.
When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.
It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.
Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.
The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.
That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.
After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.
AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
133 notes · View notes
myojinn · 18 hours
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How You Met - Sukuna Ryomen
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How You Met ... Part of Cursed Spirit!Reader Series Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x Cursed Spirit!Reader tags: fluff? maybe, strangers to friends summary: You never thought that one day you'd receive a wish asking for the fall of the great Sukuna Ryomen, but you were a determined cursed spirit and set out to fulfill the wish anyway. a/n: Yay. This is another part to the Cursed Spirit!Reader series. I hope y'all like this one. I would love love love some suggestions for other parts to this series. This takes place years and years ago in reference to the previous two fics.
Cursed Spirit!Reader Masterlist (soon)
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If there was one thing you loved most in the world it would be being praised.
Nothing could ever beat the overwhelming amount of offerings you would receive regularly at your shrine. People left you valuable objects in exchange for your services. As a cursed spirit, of course, you were up to no good. You heeded the wishes of those who wanted to witness the despair of others. The better the offering, the worse their fate would be. Your entity and your shrine quickly grew to become an infamous subject all over the land. Some revered you and some detested you. However, you never understood the hate. In reality, you were a curse of balance. You naturally sought out beings with cursed energy that were lower or higher than usual. You liked it this way—balanced, with everything in proper circulation in nature. And sure, you did other people's bidding, but it's not like you didn't have any standards. You chose your battles. You judged how worthy that person was and how significant their wish was. Although, you never turned down a wish because you were intimidated by it. Well... not until someone wished for the death of Sukuna Ryomen.
Everyone knew who Sukuna was. But unlike you, no one truly liked him. He was respected, but mostly out of fear. He didn't listen to anyone and clearly, he only thought about his own interests. To be fair, with strength like that, no one can really contest him about his attitude. You are strong and you've proved that fact plenty of times by defeating all of your foes. You were a confident little cursed spirit, but not when it came to Sukuna. You just knew that he was in a league of his own. But here you are... on your way to his shrine. What exactly made you go and fulfill this outrageous wish? You weren't sure. You knew he was way more powerful and maybe it was the potential thrill that enticed you. To say you were a battle junkie is an understatement.
You wanted a great battle to be etched forever into your memory and maybe the strongest sorcerer would be able to give that honor to you.
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Sukuna was in his chambers, eyes closed and hoping for a wink of sleep. But the commotion outside was absolutely irritating. He let out an audible 'tsk' before stomping his way out of his room and into the hall. As if on cue, one of his servants come running up to him. He knew what fear looked like and it was written all across the boy's face. Sukuna looked down on him with all arms crossed. "Mind explaining all the noise outside?" The boy looked up. His eyes were the size of saucers and he was sweating profusely despite the relatively cold weather of the late. "I... Um... My Lord, there's a cursed spirit wreaking havoc outside," he explained. "The guards tried to fend them off but... um... they're too strong and-" The boy wasn't just afraid of the intrusion, but also of the impending doom that awaited them at this shrine. Surely, Sukuna wasn't happy that his guards and servants were able to do jackshit against some lowly cursed spirit. Although, he thought, maybe it wasn't such a lame attack this time. Perhaps it was a formidable opponent waiting for him outside. He didn't bother hearing any more excuses from the frail boy who could barely stand in front of him. He walked off quite calmly which betrayed what he truly felt.
Oh and he felt excited—pure and palpable excitement.
And you were everything that he was hoping for.
He watched for a while as you went on a rampage. He already knew who you were—the notorious cursed spirit used her mist technique to defeat enemies.
As popular as you were, even Sukuna had little to no clue as to what your cursed technique entailed. So he watched closely. He observed how precise your movements were and how agile you were. He was impressed with how absorbed you were that you didn't notice him or maybe you ignored him on purpose?
But finally, you looked at him and your eyes met. You had a crazed look on your face while standing atop a pile of servants that you threw together.
He smirked at the wicked smile that you offered him.
"You did all this?"
You looked around, mocking him. "I don't see anyone else here." You turn back to look at him, still smiling as if you didn't unleash hell just a few minutes ago.
He took a few steps forward, admiring your handiwork. "You think you're funny? Hm?"
"Mhm, my three friends say so!" You hold up the number three with your hands to emphasize your point. Although, he doubts that you even have friends in the first place. It was ridiculous to think that a cursed spirit like you had any friends.
Hell, he wasn't a cursed spirit and yet he had no one to call as a comrade.
Finally, a faint smirk appeared on his face. His sharp and striking features definitely did not go unnoticed by you. "What are you waiting for, little thing? Aren't you here for the big event?" You grinned like a Cheshire cat. You were looking forward to exchange blows with him, but you wanted to have a little chat. Maybe rile him up and see him at full power. But, alas, he was an impatient one it seems.
"Then, prepare yourself... Sukuna Ryomen."
His grin grew wider as you lunged forward. You were sure that your punch would land. After all, you were fast. But it wasn't enough to even graze the skin of the great Sukuna. He caught your fist easily and threw you to the side. But you landed on your feet just in time.
Adrenaline pumped through your veins. Your rapidly beating heart was confused if this was fear or excitement.
Maybe raw power wouldn't cut this. You held out your arms to unbridle the dark mist that is your cursed technique. You made sure to concentrate all of the cursed energy around him. This is what you did when you wanted to suffocate your prey and make quick work for them.
But soon you realize that... you were the prey.
He easily slices through the cocoon of mist you built around him, unimpressed by your attack.
"Quit playing and be serious with me. I'm quite offended that you're using flimsy attacks like these."
You faked a smirk, not wanting to show the unease bubbling in your stomach. Flimsy? That was one of the strongest attacks you had... shit. It wasn't looking good for you. The two of you exchanged blows for a while... well, more like you were hurling whatever attack you could think of and he'd slice through them. It was one-sided; anyone could see that. Despite your efforts and huge releases of cursed energy, it just wasn't enough to even scratch him. He stood above you as you panted, desperate for some air to fill your lungs. The corner of his lips tugged into a cocky smirk. "That all you got?" Talking back to him was futile. Instead, you pulled your fist back to gain more force before swinging a punch at him. He easily caught it anyway. "Seriously. This is getting boring." Even he had enough of his own passiveness. He twisted your wrist, swept you right off of your feet, and pinned you down on the ground in a matter of seconds. You blinked dumbfoundedly at his intimidating form above you. He lifted his fist, ready to pound it down on your poor face. All you could do was close your eyes and accept your fate.
One second turned into two... then three... then nothing...
Sukuna's fist never met your face.
Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see that his fist had stopped a mere half-inch from your face. "Heh, hope you didn't piss your pants. Now, scram." He got off of you and began walking away. He was arrogant enough to show his back to you—confident that you wouldn't be able to turn the tables even if he was 'vulnerable'.
"Wait!" you shouted and you weren't sure why.
He turned around with a bored expression on his face. "Go home, brat. And stay there if you know what's good for y-" "Let me stay with you!"
"Hah???"
He was perplexed by what you had just proposed. He made a pathetic show out of you and now you want to stay with him? What kind of masochist are you? He thought.
You stood up, fighting against the wobbly legs and the soreness that surged through your body. "You're strong! I like ya!"
His eyes widened. Had you gone insane? "Are you fucked in the head or something?"
Maybe you were. Maybe the battle junkie in you thought that he could show you more heights. Before the battle you had today, you were sure that you were the strongest you could ever be.
But Sukuna Ryomen proved to you that you had so much more and perhaps he could unlock that for you.
You walked closer to where he stood, then dropped to your knees. "C'mon... I'll call you 'My Lord' or whatever gets you off."
"Tsk."
You even bowed down your head for full effect.
Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever imagined getting on your knees and begging like this, especially after you had been defeated so easily.
"I'll let you use my power for your benefit," you added. Truth be told, he found your cursed technique quite useful and troublesome if you learn how to use it better. You had great potential. You just needed polishing... and you went against him. Naturally, you would lose anyway.
"Fine."
You looked up, eyes sparkling with a wide grin stretching across your face. "When do I move in?"
You were practically beaming and it threw him off. He glared at you and your craziness. "You're delusional if you think you can just move in. You stay in your shrine and I will permit you to visit mine whenever I need you to do my bidding."
A lopsided smile appeared on your face. "I get to visit 5 times a week."
"No."
"Four?"
"Two."
"Three, but I sleep over one night."
"What the- No, two."
"Fine, three and no sleep over."
"Fucking fine. Three it is."
He grumbled, annoyed by the progression of events. He figured it wouldn't be so bad to turn you into one of his pawns. He could use you one day.
Definitely...
----------
Of course, you never listened to him. You went over to his shrine more than what you agreed on. He hated it at first, but then he couldn't really do anything.
He could wipe you off of this planet with a stroke of his finger, but he never did. Even though you annoyed him to no end... he endured it—all of it.
And he wasn't sure why.
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Text
It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.
I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.
Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.
To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.
Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.
And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.
But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.
I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.
Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.
It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.
But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).
I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.
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baby-tini · 1 day
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You think Dabi's pretty- scratch that you think he's beautiful, but unfortunately he doesn't agree. Despite his calm and collected nature, he's insecure about his scars. He doesn't understand how you, the most beautiful person in the world, could like him, a villian, someone who's covered in burns... it just doesn't make sense to him. You, however, don't care and hate when he talks negatively about himself and it has caused arguments that has led you to getting upset and Dabi pulling away, leaving for a couple hours to days. He always comes back though, he can't stay away, you know that and he's coming to terms with it. You really, are the only person that cares about him, besides the league, he doesn't have many people.
He looks so pretty making breakfast, in nothing but his boxers and grey sweats. "You look so pretty Dabi," you murmur sleepily, wrapping your hands around his waist from behind, laying your head on his right shoulder. He scoffs, flipping the eggs and tensing when he feels you run kisses along the staples across his back. Shaking his head, he mumbles, "your eyes must be blurry from sleep, doll." You whine into his back, huffing as you pull away. "Why do you always do this, Dabi? Can't you please just take a compliment, you really are pretty."
He finishes cooking breakfast and turns off the stove before turning around and leaning against the oven. "Babydoll, you do understand that I'm covered in burns, I'm not exactly a model... plus I'm not supposed to be pretty, I'm supposed to be scary, doll." Glaring at him you narrow your eyes, "Dabi, please stop saying that, you're very attractive... I think the burns make you look hotter to be honest.." He bursts out laughing, petting your hair as he moves to take the plates out and set them on the table. "Is that right, doll? You think I look hotter with the burn scars? You're a little freak, you know that?"
He always does this, he can never except that he's attractive because of the scars, so he'll make it into a joke or wave you off with a "sure, whatever you say, doll." It's really upsetting, because no matter how hard he tries, there's always a snarl pulling at his lips when he looks at himself in the mirror. Coming up behind him again, you wrap an arm around his stomach as the other wraps around his upper chest as you lay your cheek on the midst of his back, he relaxes a bit, caressing your hand as he hums. Leaning a bit into your embrace as he takes the arm wrapped around his chest and kisses your hand, rubbing circles on it.
You cuddle into his back, running your fingers over the staples and kissing the edges of his burns, "you know I'll always think you're beautiful Dabi... nothing you say or do will ever change that. I'm not always talking about your looks either, you're extremely intelligent, so observational and snarky... the prettiest parts of you aren't always physical... like the way your eyes go soft when I tell you I love you... or the way they shine just right in the sun. Or when you go soft when your sleepy, you always hold me close... keep me safe." Kissing his scars in between sentences, his hands tighten around your arms.
Pulling you so your face is buried in his chest, as he kisses your head, squeezing tight around your waist. Running his fingers through your hair he whispers sweet nothing in your ear, "even if you don't believe me... please know that you are pretty and I love you so much... more than you could know." Your eyes start to water and get blurry from the on coming tears as you feel something splash on your shoulder, you try to lift your head but he keeps your face buried in his chest. Digging his tongue in his cheek, he inhales deeply as he rubs his hand up and down your back, kissing your head every once and a while.
"C'mon doll... breakfast is done." He kisses your head one last time before letting go and walking to the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes, you go to sit down only to see crimson dripping down your shoulder as it stains your skin, leaving pretty red trails. Glancing back at him, you catch him rub at his eyes, the same crimson staining his fingers before he wipes it away... Dabi really is always so pretty, in all his moments.
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sethsclearwater · 2 days
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OKAY I RAN TO REQUEST THIS - I just saw a TikTok where a guy set up a game of uno on the bed next to his sleeping wife and put a few cards in her hand and then woke her up and told her it was her turn and she had to draw 4 so she wakes up all confused but starts playing and the husband keeps putting down +2 and +4 cards until she gets angry and goes back to sleep and you cannot tell me that it’s not poly!paul and Jared canon that they would go to GREAT LENGTHS to pull this prank with their chests and convince you that you’d all been playing uno for hours before you fell asleep and also you were losing (despite knowing you’re a grumpy loser)
Idk if the link is gonna work here but here it is anyway https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe4tFr8H/
i don't think anything in this world could possible be more poly!paulxreaderxjared coded than this
...
"babe," jared's warm, calloused hand was gently running over your bicep, squeezing the muscle there to wake you up.
you hummed, groaning as you reached your hands up to blearily knuckle at your eyes only to realized you had something in your hand. once you'd gotten your eyes opened, you saw 6 bright yellow uno cards staring you in the face.
confused, you looked over to jared and then paul, both of whom also had uno cards in their hands (suspiciously, both jared and paul only had 3). "it's your turn princess," paul encouraged after a moment, both boys eagerly waiting to see what you were going to do next.
you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows together as you tried to figure out when the hell you were playing uno with them. from the best of your memory, you'd fallen asleep waiting for the two of them to come home from patrol and weren't up when they actually did arrive.
much to jared and paul's delight, your paranoia about looking like you couldn't remember anything got the better of you just nodded, yawning before you laid down a yellow 1 card.
while you tried to figure out how you were going to get rid of any cards when all you had were yellow ones, paul and jared were quick to both lay down cards: paul with a yellow 5 and jared with a red 5.
with a huff, you pulled a card from the stack in the middle, and it was (unfortunately for you) a blue 3 - nothing of any use for you. so you continued to pull cards, needing to pull over 10 cards to finally get a red or a 5 thanks to paul and jared fucking around with the card stack prior to waking you up.
"what the fuck," you mumbled, still not entirely sure if you were in some kind of weird fever dream or something as you laid down the red 5 that you'd managed to pull.
you now sported a stack of 15 cards while jared and paul were down to only 2 each, "sheesh babe," jared laughed, "must be bad luck or something," he added, both him and paul barely containing their laughter over your disgruntled expression.
while paul laid down a blue 5, jared went and smacked down a green 3. you looked back down at your stack of a whopping 15 cards, quickly realizing that something was definitely up seeing as your entire stack was yellow and none of them were a 3.
"okay you know what this is just stupid-" you started, rolling your eyes as you tossed your cards down so you could get up. both paul and jared burst into laughter then as you got up and stormed off into the bathroom so you could splash some water on your face.
of course, both boys were quick to follow you into the bathroom, already prepared to deal with your wrath once you pieced together that they not only woke you up in the middle of the night, but woke you up in the middle of the night just to fuck with your head.
"oh poor babe," jared drolled when he saw the pout on your face as you splashed some water on you. he came to step behind you, sliding his hands over your hips so he could pull your back against his.
"jared cameron!" you snapped when you felt the way he ground his hips into yours. you sat up, spinning around to smack his bicep before prying his hands off of your hips so you could go grab a hand towel to wipe your face off.
jared was cracking himself up, wrapping his beefy arm around your shoulders so he could pull you close and press a rather sloppy kiss to your temple before he was releasing you so your other imprinter could have a turn.
"careful, she's real feisty," jared teased as he passed paul so he could head back into the bedroom to presumably clean up the gaslighting uno game they'd played with you.
you were glaring holes into the back of jared's (beyond well sculpted) shoulders, quickly giving up when paul stepped into your line of sight, "princess," he chuckled, sliding his hands over your waist so he could pull you into his chest for a tight hug despite the fact that you had now crossed your arms over your chest, "'m sorry," he mumbled into your hair, his lips curling into a smile, "you're just so easy to mess with," he added, laughing when you rolled your eyes, squirming out of his death grip so you could storm back into the bedroom where jared was now laying down, one arm flexed behind his head as he held some uno cards in the other, already knowing how absolutely crazy you went over seeing his muscles like that.
"round 2?" jared proposed, smirking when you huffed, stomping over to him so you could snatch the pile of cards out of his hands.
"only if you two fuckers play fair-" you grumbled as you got back onto the bed, cracking a smile when paul came and sat down behind you, pulling you inbetween his legs.
"of course we'll play fair," paul reassured, that same teasing tone in his voice that had you knowing they would definitely be tag-teaming you again shortly.
"nice try lahote," you rolled your eyes as you looked over your shoulder at him, "you're gonna see all my cards like this," you added and he dramatically covered his eyes with one hand.
"promise i won't peak," he mused, laughing when you rolled your eyes but obliged nonetheless, seeming to enjoy the heat that being in his lap provided you.
you quickly shuffled the cards before passing them around so all three of you could get back to playing.
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ficarcheologist · 2 days
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୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ nsfw alphabet 💭 feyd rautha
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WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns
OPs NOTES ⁞ Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
MY NOTES ⁞ This is not my work. If you are the owner of this work and would like it taken down, please provide proof of ownership and I will take it down/redirect where necessary! Link to the fic reblogged on one of my other side blogs.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you’re his wife or a favored concubine/lover, you can expect some degree of aftercare, but otherwise? He’s honestly probably halfway out the door before you’ve come back to your senses. However if he genuinely cares about you, he’ll at least clean you off and ask if you’re alright.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favorite body part of his own is his hands. And your neck for similar reasons. He loves watching the way his fingers wrap around your throat. The sight of that excites him like nothing else on the planet.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Harkonnen have black cum and that makes it pretty easy for Feyd to stain your body or clothes and mark his territory.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
You’re a bit shy about it but his absolute favorite act of intimacy with you is going down on you when you’re on your period. You’re so responsive, and blood has never scared him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
About what one would expect for a nobleman his age, maybe slightly less as he focuses more on fighting.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary for both the control it gives him over you and the intimacy it provides.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Deathly serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Shaved, perfectly well groomed. Feyd is a future Baron, and everything about him needs to be flawless.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He’s surprised by how much he changes through the course of your relationship. He goes from despising the romantic aspects of it to craving that affection from you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Only does it when he’s off world and can’t get his greedy hands on you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Knife kink, blood kink, impact play, hair pulling, biting, overstim, pregnancy kink, breeding kink
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
The luxurious chambers be shares with you at the palace. But, he does enjoy a good session where there’s a risk of being caught.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Your cleavage, the sound of your voice, seeing you hold your own in a fight, seeing you smile at him, seeing you cry.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He’d be turned off by disrespect. Sass is fine to a certain degree, but disrespect? No.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Prefers giving. Loves the power he has over you to make you scream and writhe against his ministrations, the way you taste, everything about it. And he’s damn good at it.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Almost exclusively fast and rough and HARD. Very rarely will it be slow and sensual.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Sure, he’d rather take his time with you but he has nothing against a good quickie and engages in them often.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Definitely a risk taker and game to experiment with almost anything at least once.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
4-5 rounds, excellent self control so makes you come at least once or even twice before he does each go about. If he has time, he’s definitely going to wear you out.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Prefers the simpler things - like knives - but would have no issue trying out some toys on you, not so much on himself.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
If you’ve pissed him off? He can be very, VERY unfair. He will edge you for literal hours until you’re begging him to let you come.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Average to slightly louder than average. Mostly animalistic sounds (snarling, growling) and the occasional moan of your name.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Secretly enjoys the idea of you taking the lead and pinning him to the bed, having your way with him, riding him and using him.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s big. 8 inches, long, thick, veiny.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Average. He’s a busy man who often has other things on his mind, BUT when he’s with you and doesn’t have any worries? It goes from average to insane quite fast.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depends on his mood. Typically he will fall asleep pretty quickly.
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secretly-tumb1r · 1 day
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Omg can i request dilf!art taking the virginity of reader who's really anxious and insecure? 🥹 maybe she has a curvier figure in comparison to him and Tashi who are really slim and fit so she feels like he'll not find her beautiful etc
a/n: tysm gorgeous for this AMAZING request!!
Gently- A.Donaldson x virgin!reader
summary: it’s your first time and Dilf!Art helps you through it..
warning: 18+, mdni ,pure smut guys, age gap (art is early 30s reader is early 20s), curvy reader, insecurity, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving)
“but what if you won’t think i’m beautiful?” you ask shyly, looking down at your fidgeting hands.
“baby nothing will make me see you as anything but absolutely perfect” his skilled fingers tug at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to your stomach.
your hands fly to your face covering your reddened cheeks as ART DONALDSON lifts your shirt up and off your head.
you hear him exhale lovingly as his hands gently push you back onto the bed, his lips finding your stomach.
“so beautiful f’me..” he trails off as his lips work kisses up and down your torso, hands caressing your hips gently.
“let’s take these off hm?” he looks up at you for approval and slides your shorts off. his cheeks and ears go red at the sight of your dampened panties and he buries his head in your clothed core.
“Art wait..” you tug at his hair, he’s too entranced by your warm thighs clamping on his bed to hear your words.
his tongue darts out and licks slowly on your panties, dampening them further.
he hooks his finger at the hem of your panties and kisses your belly as he makes eye contact. before you knew it your underwear was across the room.
“so fucking gorgeous..” his body moves against the mattress as he humps it trying to gain any sort of friction at the sight of your glistening pussy.
he dives in, like a starved man, like this is his last meal ever. your back is arching off the bed and your breath is ragged.
your fingers tangle in his hair and you gently pull, earning a low whine from him, vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
you’ve never felt anything like this before. i’m only a few minutes you explode all over his tongue.
he kisses your clit once more and moves off to your lips, kissing you deeply, making you taste yourself on him. his face is soaked in your arousal.
“can i? please?” his tip teases your entrance and you realise you didn’t even notice he took his boxers off, his eyes look so pleading it would break his little heart if you said no
you nod your head eagerly, and he slowly enters your wet cunt, making it seem like a perfect fit at how wet you were.
he bottoms out and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
“shit baby look” he presses his hand on the bulge in your stomach earning a sharp whine from you.
“can i move? please?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he kisses sweet pecks on your neck and jaw while his hand supports his weight next to your hand and his free hand toys with your nipples.
“mhm” you shake your head with your eyes closed and Art begins to move. it hurts at first but so quickly the pain turns into something out of this world.
the way his cock was filling you up was so good you could cum just at the thought. Art was experiencing something new too, he loved grabbing your ass or your hips and feeling the soft skin squish under his fingers, he loved the way your whole body reacted to his movements, he loved you.
he was sure this was the most addictive drug, your sweet, tight pussy.
he began to thrust slowly into you, with a fear that if he went faster he might break you.
you combined moans filled the room as you felt yourself reach your second orgasm. you felt Art twitch inside you and that’s when you let go.
“that’s it, let go. ‘m here.” he moved once, twice, and he released sweet cum into your sopping hole.
his lips worked quick work of your neck as he stayed inside you for a bit only pulling out to push his cum back in with his fingers, making you whimper at the overstimulation.
“you did amazing, you’re so gorgeous, so-so” he lay his head in your tummy as you gently stoked his hair, falling asleep in that position.
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porcelainseashore · 3 days
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Into the Ether (9)
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader
Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.
Authors' Note: Implied child kidnapping ahead.
Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥
AO3 Link
Chapter 9: Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Another night, another part of the mystery to solve. But first, you had agreed to go into work. Nothing was going to stop you, not even the ‘Prince’s orders’. Something about having a nightly routine kept you sane and grounded you in reality. Not that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, but you didn’t want to lose touch with the living. You didn’t want to become like… Leon?
You heaved a disheartened sigh thinking about it. You’d been giving the man the silent treatment ever since returning from the Spencer Mansion, and you didn’t like it one bit. Hurting people wasn’t something you enjoyed — be it ignoring them out of spite or acting in a way that would lead to someone’s unfair demise. It didn’t help that you were constantly being reminded of how powerless and insignificant you were. Was this the best you could do when taking a stand? Or was there something more?
Working felt like walking. You went through the motions: socializing with your colleagues, pandering to customers, planning out the next month’s events program, making a couple of calls along the way, and your personal favorite — sorting out the cafe’s finances. Even the Redfields showed up, informing you and by extension, Leon, that they were still on the suitor’s case and would have something juicy for you soon.
“Do you ever miss the sun?” you wondered out loud. 
It had barely been a week since you turned, but you were already bemoaning the fact that you wouldn’t be able to live to see it. Although the nights were longer now that the year had entered into its colder period, you had thought ahead, speculating how it would be like when summer returned again. That was depressing.
“Always,” Claire responded, patting your shoulder empathetically.
“Best not to think about it,” Chris chimed in, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You’ll get used to it at some point, and besides, there’s always YouTube.”
“Very helpful, Chris,” his sister huffed in disdain, forcefully backhanding her brother so that he choked on a bit of his beer.
“What the fuck, sis?” he groaned, wiping the beer stains off his clothes with his bare hands in annoyance. “On my nice shirt as well.”
For some reason the constant bickering between the siblings caused you to double over in laughter and they looked at you in amusement. After you recovered from your giggling fit, you pointed to Chris' bottle, asking, “So you can do that thing of actually enjoying what you eat and drink?”
“Uh huh.”
“Maybe you can teach me?” you tested the waters. “Leon was supposed to, but—” You stopped yourself in your tracks, realizing that you’d have to share a lot more than you would be comfortable with.
Unfortunately, Claire was perceptive enough. “Trouble in Paradise?” she suggested, only to continue on her train of thought when you didn’t answer, “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me. He may be a prick who needs a nudge in the right direction, but he’ll come around.”
She pressed her arm against the wall and leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “And I hate to say this, but he’s actually a good guy.”
The expression on your face must’ve given away how you felt when Claire had uttered those last words. She quickly peppered it with, “He must’ve screwed up pretty bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say it’s one screw up after the other,” you finally replied.
Chris gave a low chuckle, “Sounds like him alright.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame the guy for trying though.”
“Alright, I’ll let you in on something,” Claire began, only to be interrupted by her brother.
“Oh man, not again! Can’t ever keep your goddamn mouth shut, can you?” he scolded.
“Shut up, Chris! She’s cool with us, you know that,” she retorted and he conceded, though you could still hear him grumbling in the background.
Turning towards you triumphantly, she continued, “I’ll keep it short. He saved my brother's skin; I owed him a life boon, and Chris probably did too, but he turned it down in the end.”
“Yeah, said something about not wanting to take advantage,” Chris piped up, shaking his head in disbelief. “To this night, it still floors me.”
What they had said gave you some pause. It seemed as though Leon had a bunch of demons to confront, and there was always an internal battle waging. You just hadn’t been able to break through. But did you want to in the end? Or would you just leave him to rot in his own misdoings? You weren’t anyone’s savior and you didn’t want to be. You simply wanted to do what felt right to you.
“Guess there’s a lot more to him that I don’t know about,” you mused.
Chris’ wide palm met your back with a loud thump that reverberated across your chest. “Hey, chin up, kid. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get there. Us Brujahs don’t give up without a fight.” His brown eyes lit up and crinkled, fine lines of crow’s feet fanning out from the corners. “And no matter what anyone says, I still think you’re one at heart.”
“Brujah, huh? I like the sound of that.” A crooked smile played across your lips as you laid your cards out on the table. “I’ve heard you’re fierce fighters. Mind showing me a few tricks? Just so I know how to fend for myself.”
Chris stood taller, eyeing you with curiosity as a sense of pride visibly swelled in his chest.
“I could throw in a supply of beers on the house to sweeten the deal,” you added, pointing at the empty bottle he was clutching at his side.
He barked out a laugh before responding, “Well, now that you put it that way, you’ve got my hands tied.” Placing his bottle down on a table beside him, he agreed, “Sure, I’ll give you some tips, but a word of warning: I don’t go easy.”
The rest of your shift went by without event, until Leon dropped by to pick you up for the next meeting planned that night. Since neither of you had gotten any real leads on the case yet, he thought it best to visit the Bakers first before heading back to NEST, where the Primogens' offices were and where Jill would be waiting impatiently for answers. 
In the jeep, the atmosphere was thick with tension, though along the way, he tried to cut through it with some advice. “I know you’re still upset and don’t want to talk, but I need to prepare you for this.” 
He tapped on the steering wheel nervously. “As Malkavians, the Bakers all suffer from some form of affliction following their Embrace. In this case, they believe a little girl called Eveline is part of the family, except no one else can see her.”
“You mean she’s invisible?”
The car swerved off-center as Leon glanced over at you, startled by your response. It was the first time you had spoken to him in a while. You clung onto the grab handle and yelled, “Keep your fucking eyes on the road!”
“Shit, um, sorry!” He focused his attention back to his driving, quickly stabilizing the vehicle before he spoke up again. “And, uh, no. I mean, we don’t think she actually exists.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and is that going to be a problem?”
“Not if you pretend she does,” he stated plainly. “Otherwise, they’ll get really provoked if you don’t interact with Eveline.”
“Right, thanks for the heads up.” You nodded curtly. “Anything else I should know?”
“Yeah, well, uh, just be—”
“Careful. Got it,” you finished the sentence for him.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he emphasized. “These folks have always been rather isolated from the Camarilla. Last I heard, they don’t take kindly to strangers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. So, if all hell breaks loose in there, I want you to book it and run, alright?”
You frowned, shifting your gaze in his direction. If his intention was to allay your fears, he had done nothing but heighten them. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He flashed you a reassuring smile, but you could make out the hint of unease in the curl of his lips. “Take the car keys when we reach the place, so you have your escape route if needed.”
You let his words linger in the air as you kept quiet throughout the rest of the ride.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Reaching the outskirts of Raccoon City, you were traveling along Stone-Ville Road, where there was nothing but open land. The trees had been cleared from the forest, and multiple estuaries flowed from the Raccoon Dam. The area was sparsely populated, with only a smattering of houses spread out from each other in the distance. At some point, Leon made a left turn into a side road, heading towards a decrepit-looking estate that was slightly off the beaten track. It appeared to bear some similarities to the Spencer Mansion back in Arklay Forest, causing a spine-tingling shiver to sweep through your body.
“Designed by the same architect from the Trevor & Chamberlain fame,” Leon pointed out, seemingly able to read your mind.
“That guy from New York?” You remembered reading about him in magazine articles and the mystery of his disappearance as people mourned the loss of a genius.
“Yeah, so expect surrealist stuff, including puzzles and secret passageways,” he cautioned.
You balked at the thought of having to enter yet another labyrinth like the one at the Tremere Chantry.
“It’s just for a friendly chat,” he asserted, his calming blue gaze meeting yours. “I doubt there’s any need for us to explore the house, unless they make things difficult.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you muttered, tucking the car keys into your pocket as you stepped in front of a formidable, rusty gate.
It was unlocked, and as Leon pushed it open, it screeched on its hinges like a dead woman's wail, beckoning you towards the crumbling building before you, which was long past its heyday. The refurbished plantation house, where you assumed the Baker family lived, was part of a larger ranch estate, and it looked like something straight out of a slasher flick.
Leon pressed the doorbell, waiting to see if there was any sign of life. A light switched on, its mellow rays filtered through the window shades, and you heard hurried footsteps on the wooden floorboards until the door swung open. An older lady with her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail peered at both of you in confusion. She wore a tattered, sweat-stained button-up blouse and a brown skirt. Her coarse and wrinkled skin still carried an unfaded tan, suggesting a life of manual labor, where she had tended to the animals and fields under the sweltering sun.
“Can I help you, miss, mister?” she asked in a heavy Southern drawl. “We weren’t expecting anyone at this time.”
“Ma’am,” he dipped his head politely in acknowledgement. “Sorry for intruding on you like this, but there wasn’t any other way to contact you.”
“Well, we don’t want no trouble, young man. Just mindin’ our own business, that’s all.” Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she fiddled with the hem of her cotton blouse, glancing over her shoulder every now and then at a blank space behind her.
Your attention was drawn to the area she kept looking at, and as you concentrated on it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You had the strangest sense that someone was there, but you couldn’t make out any shape or figure, just an energy. An icy chill gripped your head, as if cold hands were feeling along the grooves of your brain. You shuddered, realizing that whoever it was knew that you were aware of its presence.
“We don’t want any trouble either,” Leon assured, raising his palms slightly to indicate a truce. “We just have some questions we could use your help on, regarding an attack a couple of nights ago.”
The woman still clutched onto the door apprehensively. “Why? Who sent you?”
“The Prince put us on the investigation,” he disclosed warily.
At that moment, a shadowy figure materialized behind the woman, taking a few seconds before you could make out his features in the dim light. He was an older man, around the same age as her, balding and wearing spectacles. Likewise, his yellow striped shirt and beige pants were worn and filthy, as though he hadn’t changed out of it for decades.
“Prince?” he questioned defensively, placing his hand on the small of the woman’s back. “What does the Prince want? We didn’t do nothing wrong, son.”
“No, you didn’t,” Leon agreed, quickly following up with an explanation to assuage the man. “We have the assailants in custody, but it appears they’ve been brainwashed and manipulated through Dementation — a skill that you’re well-versed in.”
The man eyed him like a hawk as Leon continued, treading on thin ice. “We thought we could use your expertise, and if you might’ve picked up on anything out of the ordinary in the vicinity.”
There was a pregnant pause before the man relented, “Fine, you got 5 minutes to ask us anything you wanna know, son.” Pushing the door wide open, he gestured for you to enter. “Come on in.”
As you stepped into the gloomy premises, he pointed at you, flashing a warning glance in your direction. “And no more snoopin’ around, young lady.”
Oh, right. You must’ve unwittingly activated one of your powers earlier to sense his presence, when he had relied on his Obfuscate Discipline to remain hidden. “Sorry, my bad,” you mumbled. “It was an accident.”
He nodded, turning around to make his way into the living room where a dining table was situated. “You girls can come out now,” he hollered. 
You saw a younger woman with jagged, short hair emerge in a similar fashion to how the man did before, sitting at one of the chairs at the table. Despite that, you greeted two people as Leon had instructed, and he followed suit. A round of introductions followed, where you learnt that the older couple were Jack and Marguerite and their two daughters, Zoe and Eveline, with the latter being the youngest at 10 years old.
Marguerite disappeared into the kitchen for a bit, only to return with a tray of crockery. She handed out cups to everyone and poured a red, viscous liquid from a teapot. Jack grumbled in the corner that it was meant to be a short meeting, but at the same time, couldn’t help but appreciate his wife’s hospitality. Bringing the cup to your nose, the liquid smelled musky, like earth, and you wondered where it came from.
“It’s the best I can offer at such last minute notice,” she apologized, wiping her hands on her blouse as she sat herself down. Twisting her head in the direction of the empty seat next to Zoe, she cooed, “But Evie likes it, don’t ya, sweetheart? That’s it, drink up now. Little piggy’s blood is good for you.”
You watched as the cup on the table remained motionless, while Marguerite bombarded the invisible entity with sweet words of encouragement. Trying to ease the awkwardness in such a situation, you took a mouthful of the liquid from your cup. It was the first time you tasted animal blood and as much as you hated to admit it, it was incredibly bland compared to human blood. Like a simple gruel versus a gourmet meal. Then again, neither could bagged blood beat the real thing, though you tried not to dwell on it. You smiled politely over at Zoe, who threw you a sympathetic look.
“You’re new, huh?” she asked shyly, cocking her head as she gazed at you.
“Mm hm, about a week.” You took another sip and pursed your lips, swallowing the liquid like a chore that had to be done.
“Ooh, a baby!” Marguerite interjected, suddenly interested in the conversation between you and Zoe. You imagined she was the social butterfly of the group. “Maybe Evie can show you a few tricks.”
At this, Leon rested his hand over your arm protectively, forcing a strained smile. “Perhaps another time? We really should get down to business.”
“Ah, city boys and their ‘business’,” Jack remarked, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, what can we do for ya?”
You heard Leon speak, but his voice seemed to drone on with the others, and out of nowhere you started to enter a tunnel vision. In your line of sight, you spotted a framed photo of the Baker family, though something was amiss. There was a young man in the picture you hadn’t met yet. He was thin and lanky, and had a hoodie on that obscured part of his face. Leaning back on the couch, he stared directly back at you with a bored look in his hollowed eyes.
It took you a while, but you managed to snap out of it, uttering the first thought that came to your mind, “Is that your son, mister?”
All at once, the mood in the room shifted, taking a dramatic turn for the worse. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you as Jack ordered ominously, “Get the hell out.”
You opened your mouth in protest, but Leon beat you to it, rising up from his seat as he contended, “Look, she didn’t mean anything by it. We’re sorry, alright? Could we just—”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, boy!” Jack bellowed, his command resonating across the room.
Leon’s body grew rigid and he remained mute. Dread seeped into your bones as you observed the previous scene of peace and tranquility descend into an utter nightmare.
“Mama, Evie’s getting upset,” Zoe announced in a tiny voice.
“Argh! See what you’ve done now?” Marguerite shrieked as she stomped around the room in a temper tantrum. “This is your fault!” she accused, glaring at you and Leon.
“You barge into our house and threaten my family? This won’t do!” Jack shook his head menacingly as his eyes glowered. “I’m just gonna have to teach you a lesson.”
His eyes changed into an otherworldly shade and Marguerite joined him, speaking in tongues. They gazed at Leon as if engaged in a séance. However, Zoe remained separate from their antics, looking on in fright. You stood rooted to where you were, bracing for the worst, but nothing happened. It was only when you saw Leon sink to the ground on his knees, his face pale as a sheet, that you realized he was bearing the brunt of your transgression.
He was taken back to years ago, at the height of his blood bond, where he would do anything to win Ada’s affection. Her interest in him had begun to wane and he was sure she was seeing another lover. But this time, he would bring her the vessel that would change her mind about him and guarantee her everlasting love.
There he was, at that godforsaken group home, the one linked to the Catholic church he had frequented when he was still alive, and where he would sell his damned soul for a second time to the Devil. All it took was a flash of his police credentials and a charm or two from his arsenal of skills he had honed to entrance the nuns keeping watch over the children.
“Sherry, are you ready to go?” He extended a hand towards her. 
This wasn’t his first rodeo. Ada and him had been noticing the little girl for a while, testing to see if she would be a worthy vessel for the Prince himself. After all, Ventrues were extremely fussy drinkers and Wesker expected a Michelin star meal every single time. The only thing stopping him from delivering the girl over was a vague sense of morality he still had within him. But he was desperate enough now to dash it to the ground for a chance at his sire’s approval again.
The girl had dressed into her school uniform, a hairband holding her blond tresses out of her face as she peered up excitedly at him. “Yes, let’s go!”
She would have done anything to get away from the home where she never slept well and felt alone despite being in a room full of kids around her age. Where Leon was taking her sounded like a glorious fairytale. A palace with a prince, she imagined, a place where she would be treated to all the luxuries her current life could never afford her.
“Oh god, no!” he cried out, doubling over on the grimy floor of the Baker House. 
Sherry was haunting him again. Everywhere he looked, he saw multiple copies of her like a cracked mirror reflecting her ghost on its uneven surface. He heard layer upon layer of her laughter, jumbled and out of sync, mocking and taunting him. Paranoia sank in and he curled himself into a fetal position, pleading for no one in particular to forgive him.
“Sherry, please, we have to go!” he urged. 
This was years later, when he had some sense knocked into him from the time he hung out with the Anarchs. He wanted to right his wrongs, and free the girl who was never meant to be trapped in the underworld in the first place.
But she had changed. She was older and wiser, and knew exactly what she wanted — it was definitely not to leave.
Yanking her hand back, she kicked her feet, stamping on the ground as she yelled, “No! I want to stay!”
He was shocked by her absolute conviction in remaining within the prison where she was held, like a pretty songbird for the rest of the Kindred to gawk at. “But…”
“You can’t make me!” she screamed, red in the face.
Rendered speechless, he didn’t know what else to do than stare at the crying child before him with his jaw hanging open. He thought he was saving her, like a knight in shining armor, but she didn’t need any saving. She was perfectly happy where she was.
“One day, I’ll get you out of there. I promise,” he babbled on repeatedly, reduced to nothing but a trembling mess before the Malkavians.
During the entire period when Leon appeared to be suffering from a mental breakdown, you were torn about what to do. He had told you to bolt the minute something like this took place, but you couldn’t leave him to fend for himself in this state. You didn’t understand what he was blabbering on about. Was Sherry his sister? Where was she? What happened to her?
A million thoughts raced through your mind, but you shut them down. You needed to pry Leon away from the family’s cold clutches and keep him safe. Mustering your courage, you approached the one who seemed to be the most reasonable of the lot. She still sat in her chair, gazing upon the scene with a vacant yet troubled expression.
“Zoe?” you called out softly, hoping it wouldn’t escalate the situation. “Please, we don’t mean any harm.”
Her eyes darted towards you.
“I know you’re just trying to protect your family,” you deduced, especially from the way they had been on edge the moment you stepped onto their property and inadvertently brought up one of their own.
“We need the information, but I swear to you we will keep whoever it is you’re trying to protect safe,” you promised.
Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with glassy eyes. In the background, you could hear Leon’s gut-wrenching whines of pain.
“Zoe, please!” you begged, your brows furrowing and tears on the verge of spilling from your eyes. You couldn’t bear to witness him in such agony any longer. It felt like your heart was shattering into pieces, though you couldn’t explain why.
“Eveline, stop,” her calm voice sliced through the air and the buzzing energy died down. 
Her parents came out of their hypnotic state and Leon stopped shaking uncontrollably, though he backed himself into a corner in fear. You rushed to his side, holding him in your arms as you checked his eyes to see if he had fully returned to the present.
“You stayed…” he whispered, reaching out to touch your face, as though he was trying to ascertain if you were real.
In an instant, you pulled him into an embrace, rocking him gently as you stroked his hair. “You’re okay, Leon. You’re safe.”
After a while, he relaxed into your arms and his breathing returned to its normal tempo. The Bakers exchanged worried looks but said nothing as they gave him time to recover. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “I-I’m sorry about what happened there, son. Just been a lot going on these days.”
You turned around, deciding to take the reins as you spoke for the two of you, “I understand, and as I promised your daughter, we’ll make sure that, um—”
“Lucas,” Marguerite offered.
“—Lucas won’t get hurt.”
Jack nodded, taking off his glasses as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “You see, how we work is through what others call premonitions or clairvoyance, and all that mumbo-jumbo.” 
Clearing his throat, he continued, “Well, lately we’ve been sensing a bunch of Sabbat activity in the city. Their symbols are everywhere, like little red hotspots across the center. They’re planning more of these attacks for sure, just heading down along the river.”
“Circular River?” you probed.
“Uh huh, the one closest to town,” he concurred. “And, uh, I’m guessing you were also here about the Cobweb?”
“Yeah.”
He swallowed anxiously as Marguerite took over. “It don’t always speak to us, and sometimes it’s hard to make out what it says. But we heard somethin’ the other night.”
She paused, adjusting her hair restlessly before she divulged, “It was Lucas’ voice, carried like a wave by a thousand voices, saying his name is nobody. That stood out, but we don’t know why.”
Nobody said they were nobody…
You caught a flicker of recognition in Leon’s eyes as you recalled what the man had said during Jill’s interrogation. Was Lucas responsible for all of this?
“Where’s Lucas now?” Leon asked, his voice still a little unsteady.
“He don’t want to be found.” Jack shrugged dejectedly. “My boy’s always been a real firecracker. Left home one day and never came back. We think he’s with them — the Sabbat.”
“But he’s a good boy,” his wife insisted. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“We just want him to come home,” Zoe added. “Evie wants her big brother back.”
The joy and curse of familial bonds. You could get behind that.
“We won’t breathe a word about Lucas,” you pledged, overriding your sire’s authority as you answered on behalf of him as well. “Right, Leon?”
You could see the discomfort in his expression, though he grunted an affirmative reply.
As Jack showed you out of the house, you thanked him and his family for their assistance, though a final question came to your mind. “Can Dementation have long-lasting effects?”
“With the right choice of words, it can.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
To play it safe, you took over the driving on the way back as you and Leon discussed the information you had gleaned from the Bakers.
“You think Lucas is the one?” you asked as you stopped at a red light.
“No, I don’t think he worked alone,” he opined. “It took two of the Bakers to bring me to my knees.”
There was a momentary pause as he clenched his fist at the memory, exhaling another deep breath of air. “I know we are talking about manipulating a group of lesser vampires, but unless he’s a prodigy we’ve never discovered, there were most likely others involved at the same time.”
“Makes sense,” you agreed, easing off on the brake pedal to switch over to the accelerator as the lights went green again.
“You still want to protect the guy, even after what he did?”
Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, causing your knuckles to turn white. A promise was a promise, and there was more than enough bloodshed these nights.
“Yes,” you forced the answer out through gritted teeth. “Got a problem with that?”
“I admire you,” he murmured, dispelling your misgivings. “Your compassion.”
You felt your anger dissolve as you followed up with a suggestion. “It’s never too late, you know?”
He gave you a weak smile but remained silent for the ride home.
Back at his apartment, you noticed that he still seemed shaken by the night's events as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, gazing blankly into space. Was he going to doze off in that position? You had already changed into a loose muslin nightdress and gone through the usual bedtime preparations.
Strolling over, you sat down beside him, trying to strike up a conversation. “They spooked you real bad, huh?”
He didn’t laugh at your joke, though he acknowledged it. “You can say that again.”
This wasn’t like him at all. You grabbed his shoulder in concern. “Hey, you don't seem okay.”
“I’ll be fine,” he sighed, looking away from you to his lap. “And… thank you for back there.”
“I would never abandon you like that,” you stressed, even if you hadn’t forgiven him for turning you… yet. 
He glanced at you with his watery blue eyes in appreciation, but you could tell that his mind was in a distant place elsewhere. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw his hands quivering, and you hoped that what the Bakers had done wasn’t permanent. You knew he was trying to put on a brave front, but a part of you felt uneasy about leaving him on his own.
“Um, why don’t you sleep next to me today?” you offered hesitantly.
He peered at you quizzically. “You sure?”
“Yeah, just get dressed, alright?” You made your way up the stairs and waited for him by the bed before he could argue any further.
He joined you later, clad in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, keeping a respectable distance as he lay beside you. There was a nervous energy to him.
You drew nearer, caressing his arm tenderly. “We don’t have to talk about whatever you saw in there,” you affirmed. “I’m here if you need me.”
He tucked your hair behind your ear as a stray tear fell onto his face. Wrapping your arms around him, you closed the gap, breathing in his scent as you felt his hands along your waist. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before you released each other. His nose nudged against yours as his warm breath grazed your cheek. When his gaze lowered to your lips, you didn’t have to think or doubt what would come next. 
Leaning in, he placed his soft lips over your own, kissing you intimately as he savored your taste in his mouth. Instinctively, you kissed back, running your fingers through his messy locks as your tongue licked across the seam of his lips. A low moan escaped his throat as he pressed up against you, claiming your lips again and again. It was the last thing you remembered as daysleep enveloped you like a cocoon, lulling you into a temporary hibernation.
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themultifanshipper · 3 days
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As much love as the fans showed Yuki, one little-known fact about him was that no one would ever love him quite as much as his wife did. And they expressed it a bit too loudly for everyone else’s liking.
Warnings: I almost vomited from the fluff, nasty sex to counterbalance tho, putting food in places it should not be, physical injury (burn), then more disgusting fluff. Cringe dialogue. Tried something new writing in the 3rd person so tell me if it’s okay
They were still very much in the honeymoon phase, only having been married for a year, but they were truly, madly, deeply, disgustingly in love. Emphasis on the disgusting. Because they fucked anywhere and everywhere, all the damn time.
It was becoming a problem, in particular for Daniel, who had asked that the walls separating their driver rooms be soundproofed, and to never be on the same hotel floor as Yuki.
Because Yuki was insatiable and so was his wife.
There they were, in Yuki’s massive kitchen, while she made dinner and Yuki watched her, glass of wine (not his first) in his hand. How lucky that he married a woman whose father was a world famous chef. She’d insisted on making him something special for their 1 year anniversary, so he just sat on the other side of the kitchen Island while she worked away at her pots and pans.
“You know I love you, right?” He asked.
She looked at him with an amused twinkle in her eye. “I would hope so baby, otherwise why did you marry me?”
“For your amazing smile, of course! And your father’s money” he smirked at her.
“Well then thank god I made you sign a prenup then!”
They both giggled and sighed like lovesick fools, and sent each other flying kisses from across the island. If anyone else had been there, they would probably have been sick, especially Daniel, who knew way too much about their sex habits to be fooled by all the lovey-dovey PDA they always shared around everyone.
She’d finished all the prep and had just turned the stove on when she climbed onto a chair to open the top cabinet which contained more bottles of expensive wine.
That’s when Yuki noticed. She was wearing one of his shirts, which was slightly big on her given his build, that part he already knew, but as she lifted her arms, he noticed she was wearing nothing underneath. Literally nothing.
She was cooking for him (that on it’s own enough to get him in the mood) straight up shirt-cocking it (shirt-pussying it?), Winnie the pooh style. In a shirt with his name on it.
It was all too much for little Yuki Tsunoda as he slinked off his chair and made his way towards her. He made it halfway around the island before she noticed and scolded him.
“Nuh-huh, get out of my space baby. This is my kitchen tonight!”
He didn’t listen as he ran the rest of the way and kissed her, arms weaving around her waist. The advantage of being almost the same height was that neither had to bend their head awkwardly, their bodies just slotted together perfectly. He grabbed at the back of her thighs and she wrapped them around his waist, enjoying how much strength he possessed as he didn’t even flinch.
He plopped her on the counter between the stove and the fridge, the cold marble against her heated flesh making her gasp against his lips. Without looking and without breaking the kiss, one of Yuki’s hands trailed down between her legs, the other going into the meticulously organised fridge.
She pulled away, needing oxygen, and saw what he’d taken out: a can of whipped cream. Uh oh. He grinned at her, shaking the can, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“And what, pray tell, are you going to do with that?”
He smirked “I am going to decorate my entrée.”
She rolled her eyes as he pushed on her chest to lay her down before pulling up her shirt over her tits. He then proceeded to squirt whipped cream over them, making her gasp. Finally, he produced a jar of sprinkles from god knows where and threw a generous amount over the cream.
“cakes” he said simply, making her wheeze because what the fuck Yuki, but she didn’t laugh for long as he wasted no time diving in, tongue first, liking up the quickly melting cream.
The coldness of the cream had made her nipples hard, and he took the opportunity to suck on them harshly, making her whine and grab his hair while he licked up every last drop of his handywork. Then he spent a few minutes worshipping, licking and nibbling every bit of bare skin he could get his mouth on.
Once he was done and she was panting, he lifted her legs and ordered her to hold them open, exposing her to him completely. And as he suspected, she had already made a puddle on the counter, making him groan and cup himself through his joggers, that were well tented by now.
“Naughty, not wearing anything underneath. Is this what you expected to happen?”
She nodded quickly “Yes! Please Yuki, touch me.”
His fingers tapped around her thighs, never getting anywhere near where she needed them most.
“And who made you wet like this, hmmm?”
She huffed impatiently “You did Yuki, been thinking about tonight all week!”
He raised his eyebrows as he shook the can again. “Really? I must savour it then.”
He squirted a healthy amount all over her pussy, not wasting any time with sprinkles. The heat from her skin melted it almost immediately, drops rolling down her flesh, across her ass and onto the counter. He trailed his finger through the mess, slipping it into his mouth as he moaned, the taste of the cream mixing with her slick made an absolute banger mix.
The madman didn’t waste any more time, he buried his face into the mess between her thighs, lapping up as much of it as he could and using his very skilled tongue to bring her to the edge in minutes.
She came with a loud cry and her hips bucked into his mouth, spreading a mix of cum and leftover cream over his face as he let her ride the wave, her hands firmly tangled in his hair.
When her body finally stopped thrumming with aftershocks, she pushed herself up to kiss him, but before their lips could meet, she shrieked.
She had left the stove on, and in her haste, put her hand straight on the scorching surface.
Yuki immediately picked her up and brought her to the sink to run her hand under the cold water.
“Are you okay baby?”
She nodded, whimpering as the feeling slowly faded from her hand from the cold and he kissed her cheek, arms around her squeezing tight.
“Why don’t I finish dinner while you go put some aloe on it?
She nodded again, and when she felt like her hand was going to survive the trip, she shuffled off to the bathroom.
After dinner, they lay in bed snuggling, while Yuki kissed each knuckle carefully over and over.
“I’m sorry” He whispered.
She giggled “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, baby. It was entirely my stupidity that led us here.”
He buried his head in the crook of her neck, kissing her skin softly “I love you”
“I love you too, Yuki”
He smiled and tightened his hold around her waist and they both fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms.
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The fact that Yuki is looking at pierre in that pic keeps me awake at night.
Hope you enjoyed this, will probably write more things like this (that is a threat)
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lovezbrownies · 3 days
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Hide and Seek. (Yandere Queen x GN!Reader.)
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Masterlist
Synopsis: First you hid from the queen, as she seeked. Then you both hide as the queen's assistant seeks you two.
Queen Nia x GN!Reader
Warnings: Panicking, oveethinking, interruptions, heavily suggestive at the very end. MDNI.
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She felt crazy. Nia couldn’t find you anywhere! And she kept going in circles! She’d search the entirety of Khas, then she’d think “What if they went into one of the rooms I just left?” And search all over again. It’s been two hours and she’s starting to get depressed, are you hiding away from her? Did she do something to upset you? You should know by now Nia doesn’t mean to upset you, she just doesn’t know how to talk normally. Please please please pleas– “Ah! Hannah!!” Nia caught sight of her favored assistant, she literally did everything for her, she barely works with Hannah there.
Hannah turned to see her queen, bowing softly as she looked down at Nia, clipboard in hand.Queen Nia let out a tired breath, “Have you seen my loved one? I’ve been searching all over the place and I cannot for the life of me find them!” A frown was on Nia’s face, her arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently against the marble floors. 
“Ah they’re at the park with the ducks at the moment.” Hannah stated plainly.
Nia scoffed, “We don’t have a park or ducks in the palace, silly!”
Hannah rolled her eyes, well obviously. “Why yes, we don’t. I let them go out to a recently opened park somewhere near the palace.” Nia gasped, no way she let you go out! And Nia thought Hannah was smart but since hearing this her outlook on Hannah is completely different. Oh goodness, her poor darling is probably distraught, oh my what if you were getting hit on? What if some random person strikes a small conversation with you?! Oh heavens! “Well, where is this so-called park! I need to save my darling from idle chit-chat!”
A smirk came across Hannah’s face, this all was revenge, because the day before Nia had called one of Hannah’s new ideas stupid and she did not take kindly to that. So, Hannah took you out to the aforementioned park. Spoke with you for a while, what a delightful person you are, and then went back to the palace, anticipating Nia to immediately bombard her with questions of where you currently were. Now this is the part where she finally gets her sweet revenge. “Well, my queen, don’t be so rash! You’re still 28, you cannot possibly show your face to the public now can you? Maybe have some faith in your love and let them come back on their own!”
Queen Nia huffed, stomping away to her room. Nothing is going to stop her today! She will save you from the dreaded short awkward conversations you always complain of! Who is she, as your wife, if she won’t sacrifice her dignity for you! Picking up the old cloak, the same one she used to go and see you before she married you. And went through that old passage she used to take to sneak out and see you. Now. She only has to find that pesky park! Although scared, she will persevere to save her spouse!
But thankfully, as soon as she stepped off the ladder to the outside world she bumped into someone she couldn’t see due to the hood that is hiding her face, Nia scoffed loudly. They spoke up, “S-sor- Wait, Nia? Is that you?” Nia froze, pulling the hood off she saw her angel! How independent you are! Her sweet dove! “Ah my darling! I was so worried that someone had forced you to chit-chat with them, but it seems like you already had given them a piece of your mind and moved on, right?” You were still so confused, she allowed you to go out after all, or that’s what Hannah had told you before accompanying you to that park.
You enjoyed your time, Hannah gave you some bird seed to feed the ducks and spoke with you for a while before going back. You tried to avoid other people, you didn’t like to speak to strangers at all, but you did meet this guy who you had bonded with over feeding the cute ducks. It doesn’t matter who they were since you didn’t share contact information. “What? Nia what? Didn-'' Nia gasped, suddenly realizing where you two are.
“Oh dear! Let’s get back to our room, or else the guards might hear us! Don’t want to get another lecture from the Chief of Police again now do we?” Nia grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the ladder, “Come, let’s continue this in our room, I want to hear every detail of your amazing bravery!” Pushing you towards the ladder she motioned you to go first, even trying to pick you up and help you up but alas she’s still far too short and weak.
Once you two finally reached your shared bedroom, Nia launched herself onto her bed, twisting her body over to where you were sitting, a reading chair next to a big bookshelf, her head on her hands, she smiled widely, waiting for your amazing adventurous story. “Well, my love, do go on!” You sigh, drinking up a cup of water you opened your mouth, ready to speak your mind. “So the duck-” A knock interrupted you before you could even begin. Maybe this palace was cursed. You can barely speak a word in this palace without being cut off.
Nia jumped up, pulling you up from the chair she pushed you into the bathroom, gesturing at you to stay quiet. As she closed the bathroom door, the door to the bedroom opened, someone called out, “My queen?” It was Hannah. Nia could barely hold her giggles, she took you by the hand, whispering in your ear, “Stay quiet, but go lay down in the bathtub.”
You nodded, doing as you’re told, this was a little fun you must admit. Nia has her quirks but she makes life fun to live in. She stepped behind the tub’s curtains, closing them slowly so as to not create any noise. Even though there was enough space in the big bathtub for her to lay beside you she decided to just lie down on top of you, cuddling into you, almost purring at how nice you smell.
You heard the closet doors opening and closing, Hannah’s footsteps getting closer and closer, while you were focused on not getting caught Nia was focused on getting your attention back. Huffing as she saw you eye at the curtains, you weren’t looking at her! And that was something she decided to change, she began rubbing parts of your body as sensually as she can, you looked down at Nia, a devious smile on her face. “Nia wha-” Nia shushed you, “Stay quiet, don’t wanna get caught getting steamy in front of Hannah.” 
Just as she says this one of her hands made its way down to your crotch, she rubbed your crotch harshly once and then tiny feathery touches here and there, you squeaked as she played with you through your clothes. You slammed your hand against your mouth when you heard the bathroom door clicking open. “Nia? Are you here?” Hearing that Hannah had finally come into the bathroom Nia grabbed and rubbed at your crotch harsher than she did before, making it hard not to let out the lewdest of moans.
The evil queen had suddenly stopped, leaving you needy, softly thrusting up to her hand, wanting more. Nia, still grinning wildly, shook her head in disagreement. As soon as Hannah sighed in exasperation and you both heard the bedroom door closed, Nia immediately went back to work, leaving you a mess in the bathtub. Nia sat up, straddling your lap, she reached over and turned on the water nozzle. “Whoops, looks like we gotta take off our clothes and shower together~” You two spent a long while in that tub.
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A year or two after the war ends, James and Lily make the joint decision to split up. To the general public, who only knew them as the perfect little family that somehow survived Voldemort's attack, it's a shock, but to their close friends it was an obvious decision. They had come right out of school and into a war, they hadn't had any time to explore themselves or the world before they were married and then parents and then locked up under threat of death. They'd been rushed so quickly through their lives that they felt they hadn't really had the chance to live them. So they decided to separate and remain friends and if they came back to each other, so be it, if they didn't, that was okay too.
It was strange at first, not being constantly around each other after spending so much time in hiding together, but they made it past the first couple of weeks they settled into it. Lily moves up north to stay with some of her friends and starts working at a little apothecary Dorcas owns. At first she tells herself that she is mostly focused on enjoying life as a single woman and providing Harry with ad many good opportunities as she can, but when she starts to get closer to Dorcas, she decides not to fight it. She'd wanted to live her life and make new memories so who was she to fight against the feelings she had for her old friend? They begin to go on dates, but take it slowly this time, savouring every little moment. They have no need to rush anymore. A few months in, Dorcas starts to buy her flowers once a week; she leaves them on the doorstep and Lily has to try to contain her blush every time she had Harry and he asks about them.
When they make it official, she panics a little. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did before, but they talk it through and Dorcas understands and they agree that they aren't rushing at all. They are happy and Lily gets to live out the rest of her life with the freedom and care she didn't get in her early adulthood.
James stays closer to the city. He finds it much more difficult to move away and start over so he chooses to distract himself and help the ministry clear up the aftermath of the war. He works to help track down potential death eaters so they can face trial and along the way ends up working closely to none other than Regulus Black- unknown war hero who was now secretly giving the names of all the death eaters he remembered in exchange for...nothing? James is intrigued and chooses to invite him out for drinks to get to know more. He finds Regulus truly fascinating and after that night, realises that he had finally forgotten about Lily and the war for more than an hour. He walks Regulus back to his house and they awkwardly agree to meet up again. When Lily next comes down to drop Harry off, he tells her, and she says she is happy for him. She tells him about Dorcas and he is shocked when he feels more happy for her than disappointed that she had moved on.
They continue to meet and keep dodging around each other for an embarrassingly long time until regulus caves and kisses him at one of their meet-ups. James freaks out and struggles to understand what he should do or how he should feel but ultimately decides that this is what he wants and they begin to see each other. They move considerably faster than Lily and Dorcas but that's okay, James likes it that way. He never did think he'd be able to experience that kind of sweet, awkward love again after the war had interrupted it the first time but he did. And now he had a beautiful husband, well-loved son, and a life full of hope, along with a life-long bond with Lily and Dorcas. And really, they couldn't be any happier.
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