#sorry i lost my mind temporarily | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojjist · 4 months

Text

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words.

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17.

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,” he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

544 notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 7 months

Note

I adore all of your stories and turn to them at night when my brain won’t stop running. I have kind of a weird request. How would Bucky react to his girl temporarily losing her memory? (I once lost mine for two weeks due to a bad reaction to a medicine, so this pops in my mind from time to time.) The reader doesn’t remember who he is, but still feels safest when she’s with him. I’m sure he’d be the absolute sweetest. And since he’d know what it was like, he’d probably know what’s helpful and what makes things worse. When she eventually recovers, she remembers all he did for her and falls even more in love 🥰 Maybe some spicy thank yous?

Sorry if it’s too specific or out of your comfort zone! Feel free to change anything (I did base it a bit on what happened to me, but I’m sure it’d be different for everyone). Thanks!!

YESS THIS IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND ADORABLE

"I need back up on the east wing!" Steve's voice crackled through the coms, his breathing labored as he tossed off another hydra operative against the wall, "A-agent down!"

You were passed out on the floor, dust and rubble surrounding you after exhausting yourself, 3 stab wounds were bleeding profusely from your abdomen along with other cuts and bruises littering your skin. Your head throbbed in pain from where you'd been hit and with each passing second it became harder for you to stay awake. You'd tried your best to keep your eyes open with Steve's pleading but it was too much; the pain started to dull and the world went black.

"It's a strong medication and she might be out for a little longer but she's going to be okay. We just have to keep monitoring her" Dr. Cho's voice spoke softly just outside of the room where you still laid unconscious. After getting patched up and scanned for damages, you were dosed with anything and everything to keep you rested and to help with pain. You had visitors day in and day out to check on you but the one that never left your bedside was your sweet boyfriend.

"Baby please wake up" Bucky softly pleaded as he ran his fingers gently across your face, not wanting to disturb you but also unable to keep his hands to himself. Not when he just wanted to see you open your eyes again, hating the fact that he hadn't heard your voice in two weeks.

Two weeks.

That's how long you'd been out for.

He was patient, not wanting to rush your healing time but he missed you so much. He continued his soft ministrations, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and peppering kisses across your cheeks. He noticed the slight flutter of your lashes, sitting up immediately when your heart monitor picked up.

"Sweetheart?" He kept his voice low, paging for a nurse to come check on you while holding your hand, his heart racing when you finally opened your eyes. "Oh baby"

You blinked at the fluorescent lights of the room, looking at the sterile environment surrounding you. Bucky stroked your hand, hoping to ease away how disoriented you were probably feeling, giving you a soft smile when you finally met his eyes.

"How are you doll?"

"Um-I'm fine?" You stared at the handsome stranger that was by your bedside, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion as he continued to clutch onto your hand.

"I was so worried y/n"

"Who-I'm really sorry, who are you?"

Bucky's eyes widened with horror, quickly recomposing himself seeing your confused expression. He dropped your hand, immediately adding space between you both, offering you comforting smile before heading out of the door.

"Let me get the doctor" He didn't want to worry you, keeping a steady voice as he spoke before speeding down the corridor as soon as he was out of sight. He wasted no time informing the others about what had just happened, the team all patiently waiting outside of your room while the doctor checked on you.

"Will she be okay?" the words came tumbling out of Bucky as soon as Dr. Cho finished running a few tests, shutting the door behind her, letting you rest. He'd been pacing up and down the hall like a changed animal the entire time, only stopping when he heard Dr. Cho gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Her memory will come back eventually but until then it's important things are calm for her. Between the hits she took and the medication, she doesn't remember much from the last 2 years. You have to remember, throwing too much information at her will set her back so do your best to keep things the way she'd understand"

It wasn't going to be easy. There was no time line for when your memory would return and you had just joined the team two years ago. You didn't remember anyone, having no recollections of all the memories you'd built with them, nor remembering any of the friendships you had. As soon as you were discharged, you took the first day to rest in your room, not knowing that Nat had cleaned out all memories of Bucky so you wouldn't feel more confused.

After sleeping for most of the day, a man knocked on your door and introduced himself as Tony Stark, the very Iron Man. You couldn't recall too much but the name rang a bell; you knew he was the main person for you to go to if you needed anything. His first task was to take you around the compound, introducing you to various members of the team.

You met Nat and Clint training together in the gym. Sam had been tinkering with something called Red Wing. Steve had welcomed you with a warm hug and Bruce had been working away in the lab. Tony continued his tour, walking you through the kitchen when your eyes landed on a familiar face from before.

"And whose that" You felt your face heat up as you pointed over to the handsome man that has been by your bed earlier in the day, still feeling his soft touch on your skin.

"That's Bucky, or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" Tony stated, smiling at the way your eyes lingered on the soldier for longer than necessary. "Here, let's go say hi"

Tony sauntered over to where Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes growing from a lack of sleep but that didn't stop him from throwing you a bashful smile when Tony introduced brought you to him.

"Barnes, this is y/n, she's joining our team soon"

"Nice to meet you doll" Bucky shook your hand with the utmost care, the pet name he had just for you rolling off his tongue with ease. "Let me know if you need anything"

You felt butterflies at the smirk the soldier threw your way before making his way over to the gym, the blue eyes twinkling with something you couldn't quite place. The rest of the day went by smoothly and later that night you accepted the teams invitation to join them for dinner and then later a movie night.

You were aware that you'd sustained an injury which was affecting your memory; what you still didn't know was how much of your memory was missing. You felt nervous as you made you way to the dining table, everyone sitting in their designated spot, chatting away while passing dishes to each other.

Before you could quietly retreat to your room, you locked eyes with those familiar baby blues, a smile growing on his face. Bucky got up from his seat, noting how anxious you looked, understanding seeing everyone together would be overwhelming when you didn't remember any of them. He knew exactly how that felt and there was no way he was going to let you ever feel even an ounce of that.

"I hope you're hungry, doll" Bucky spoke to you softly, not bringing attention to where you'd backed up against the wall in hopes of not being noticed.

"A little" You lied, the rumble of your stomach giving away that you were starving.

"Would-would you like to join me out in the garden? I'll bring some food out for you" Bucky offered, hoping you'd feel less overwhelmed with a bit of space.

"Yes please, thank you Bucky" You shyly smiled as he stepped away to get you some food, taking both of your plates outside to eat under the soft glow of the moon. You appreciated that he didn't bombard you with questions; the both of you eating in comfortable silence until it was time for the movie. All the anxiety you'd anticipated feeling disappeared into thin air when Bucky made some space for you to sit beside him. He picked a section of the room where you'd be able to sneak off undetected if you wanted to leave early.

There was something about the Sergeant that made you feel safe. You felt loved by everyone but with Bucky it was just different. You felt safe around him. You trusted him. You didn't know him all that well and yet whenever he was around, you knew you didn't have to worry.

There were days where your anxiety would be at an all time high, worried about why you were getting vivid flashes of random memories and terrible headaches that made you nauseous. In those moments where you felt so lost, so out of control over your own thoughts, Bucky would ground you, just being around him making you feel better.

You couldn't understand why you felt so safe around a man you barely knew but you found yourself seeking him out more and more, desperate for more of his kind words, gentle touches and soothing voice.

He really was the sweetest.

It killed Bucky. His heart was hurting. He was a stranger to you and it shattered him, wishing he could kiss and cuddle you every night and tell you he was so glad you were okay, that a part of him nearly died when you didn't wake up. Everyday he had to bid you good night with nothing more than a smile, so badly wanting to hold you tight in his arms instead.

None of that mattered right now.

Not when you needed him the most even if you didn't know it.

He was going to do whatever it took to get you better, taking care of you every step of the way in the best way you needed until you remembered. He could tell by the way you giggled, by the way you smiled, that even if you didn't remember everything, there was always something between you both.

He'd never give up on you no matter how long it took.

"Shit" You hissed, dropping the mug of tea you were sipping on, the cup shattering on the floor with a crash. Searing pain felt like it was splitting your head into to, your hands clutching onto your throbbing temples, squeezing your eyes shut, the headaches you'd been getting happening more frequently.

You'd cut back on the medication you were taking, which had actually helped with regaining some of your memory but it also meant you'd go through bouts of pain without anything to help it. Flashes of a mission gone wrong streamed through you memory between fiery throbbing, even the soft day light overwhelming your sense.

"B-Bucky!!" You cried out, your knees buckling as you slumped onto the floor, blinking back tears as another wave of pain passed. You didn't need anything else but you needed your Bucky, the only person you felt felt safe with, the person you'd loved for all these years, the man who was by your bedside for days on end after you didn't wake up-

"Doll? Fuck, y/n, whats wrong sweets" Bucky found you curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen tile, sweeping you up into his arms and holding your head against his chest, his arms covering your face from the light, while his cool metal arm was pressed firmly against your forehead to ease the pain. "M'here y/n, you're okay, you're okay"

He rocked you, not moving from the floor while whispering in your ear, hoping the pain would pass quickly.

"Jamie, it hurts" You whimpered, clutching onto his Henley, the scent of his body wash calming you down. Bucky froze, not saying a word, his heart hammering against his chest at what you'd just called him.

Could that mean-

"Do-do you want to go lie down sweets?" Bucky spoke carefully, feeling you nod, still staying tucked against him. He carried you up to your room, only to have you shake your head as best as you could, wanting to go to his room instead.

"Just want to sleep for a bit baby, please?" you pleaded with him, hardly realizing the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way down to his room instead. He was your Jamie, your baby, you were finally coming back to him. Bucky pulled back the covers, setting you down carefully before climbing in with you when you tugged his wrist. Your eyes were still closed, the throbbing in your head slowly dissipating though not gone entirely as you snuggled against his chest, letting out a content sigh.

"Bucky?"

"Yes doll"

"I remember"

Bucky stirred awake to the sound of a whimper, his brows knitting together into a frown when he felt your body tremble in his hold.

"What is it baby?" Bucky's deep sleep laced voice carried through the darkness as he pulled you closer, soothing your sniffles. "Why are you crying darling, c'mere"

"Y-you didn't give up on me" Your emotions got the best of you, remembering everything from the moment everything went dark, to the panicked voices around you to the way Bucky had stayed by your side through it all, nursing you back to health while his own heart was hurting.

"Never doll, I'd never give up on you" Bucky said sincerely, kissing your forehead while stroking your hair, "How could I when I love you to much"

"But I-I didn't remember you-you still love me?" you whispered, feeling guilty that it had taken you so long to regain you memories and feeling more guilty that you couldn't remember Bucky for so long.

"Y/n, angel, I'd love you no matter what, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell you that for these past few weeks? That's all I wanted to do baby, just hold you and tell you how much I adore you-

You couldn't put into words how much love you had for him in that moment, cutting him off with your lips pressed onto his. The kiss grew more needy, hands desperately grabbing each other; you needed Bucky to know just how much you loved him too, feel every bit of what you couldn't say with words.

"Baby, let me- Bucky was ready to take care of you but that wasn't what the night was about. Not after all he'd done for you.

"No" You shook your head, gently pushing Bucky to lay on his back, straddling yourself on top of him, "Let me take care of you for taking care of me" you murmured against his lips before pressing them against his heated skin, tracing your tongue along the column of his neck. "Please Jamie, let me show you"

"D-doll-I-I can-

"Just let me Sergeant, please" You shimmed out of your oversized t-shirt before slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, puling them down, leaving him perfectly bare under you. Bucky wasn't typically a shy person but the way you gazed at him with such love made him blush, his thighs tensing when you settling yourself between them.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-oh-f-fuckkk" His words melted into a deep moan, feeling your lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue probing his slit, lapping up every bit of precum that dripped out.

You worshipped his cock with your mouth and tongue, making him feel pleasure like never before, your hand softly rubbing and rolling his balls. You pulled off with a pop just to dip your head lower, nursing on his heavy sack, the slutty, needy moans he was letting out growing louder.

"B-Baby, g'nna cum if you don't stop" His thighs spread apart further for you, back nearly arching off the bed as you licked a thick stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock, crawling back up his body to line your soaking cunt up with his length.

"Please y/n" Bucky blinked at you with glassy, lustful eyes, rutting his hips up to feel more of you, his hands flying to your thighs, needing to touch you.

"Anything for you baby" you cooed, gasping at the feeling of his tip catching against your hole, throwing your head back as you began to sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning together at the feeling of him stretching you open.

You began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing against the curly hair at the base of his cock before slowly picking you pace up, your hands resting on his chest for leverage.

"Feel's so good princess" Bucky's eyes rolled back as you started to bounce up and down, practically squealing each time you slammed yourself back down, obscene squelching noises filling the room.

"You deserve it sergeant" you whimpered, letting Bucky's hands roam your body, grabbing and pinching your nipples, your tight cunt squeezing his cock.

"C'mere baby, c'mere please" Bucky pleaded, pulling you down to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, planting his feet against the bed so he could fuck up into you, "Fuck that's it, mark me up!"

Bucky could feel you nip and suck on his neck hard enough to leave bruises, your words starting to slur as you both got closer and closer to your highs.

"F-fuck I love you!" you cried out, biting down hard on Bucky's shoulder as you started to cum, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his pace growing sloppy.

"I-I love you princess, I love you so much-God m'gonna cum-fuck-s'so much for you-HNGG" He clung onto you like his life depended on it, shoving his cock in as deep as it would go, ropes of his warm spend shooting into you.

"I love you so much Jamie" your pussy clenched around his softening cock making him jolt, the both of you panting, pressing light kisses on sweat slicked skin. "Fell in love with you twice Sergeant"

Bucky blushed before throwing you a cocky smirk, still feeling happiness beyond what words could explain having you in his arms again.

"I'll always love you" Bucky whispered before pulling the covers up over both of you once again, staying deep inside you as you started to drift off to sleep, "No matter what"

1K notes · View notes

cosmicisms · 8 months

Text

alhaitham being whipped for his lover

sfw

gn!reader

a/n: love you alhaitham but you’ve been temporarily benched for a twink magician. sorry! also idk what the format of this post is like, i just threw words together without much thought.

alhaitham who had no want or need for romance before meeting you.

panics upon getting to know you more because he can sense something is wrong.

he’s very in tune with his own emotions and thoughts, so right off the bat, he knows that you’re making him feel some type of way.

poor guy, you’ve made him doubt everything he ever knew about himself.

you’d never realise it, though.

even when you greeted him with your happy smile, placing the hot coffee on his desk, he simply nods and politely thanks you.

oh god, but if you could peek into his mind. panic.

he’d usher you out of his office, claiming that you’re distracting him from the files he must attend to, even though you’re pretty sure he’s asked you out to lunch many a time during his work hours. hm…

after a while he caves, tired of denying his own feelings.

as mentioned earlier, he’s very in tune with his own thoughts. he’s not going to hide from them forever.

having approached you with his confession laid out neatly in his mind, alhaitham is rendered speechless as he’s met with that same feeling of desire he always felt around you.

except now it was more intense, blooming within him and causing him to belt out his confession in a rather strange way.

you could’ve sworn he was lecturing you, judging by the way he spoke.

after you processed his words, you accepted and returned his confession with that same sweet smile he adored.

and here you two are now. a happy couple. all according to alhaitham’s strategic plan that he definitely did not spend hours upon hours perfecting and agonising over.

now, having alhaitham as your boyfriend comes with a lot of things.

first of all, his love languages are quality time and acts of service.

even you being in the room with him while he works is enough for him. bonus points if you sit on his lap while he reads.

speaking of work, do you need help with yours? alhaitham’s a scholar, well versed in many fields. have a report you’re dreading to write up? alhaitham will try his best to help, lending you resources and giving you pointers along the way.

also he’s a touchy guy. not in the sense that he’s emotional, i mean he’s a cuddlebug.

loves to touch you in any sort of way. interpret that however you like, but i’m talking about linked pinkies while walking through sumeru city, fingers gently caring through your hair while he reads, and throwing his leg over you while you both sleep.

“i’m clingy? not at all, i simply want to keep you in my sights lest you get into any trouble. what’s that? i’m in denial? hm… then i will refrain from touching you. no, no, you’ve lost your chances now, darling.”

pet names are another thing. he doesn’t really use em. maybe the occasional “darling” or “dear” now and then, but most of the time, he’ll address you by your name.

but the way he does it still has you blushing all the same.

he likes seeing you wearing his clothes. at first, he was confused, however.

“i don’t understand. you have your own clothes that are perfectly suitable, and yet you wear mine anyways? …alright, then.”

yep, he secretly loves it. will melt upon seeing you wrapped up in his cape, his cheeks tainted with pink.

not the biggest sappy romantic, if i’m being honest. how would’ve thought, right?

he’ll cook something for you both and have a nice dinner in the privacy of his home (having kicked kaveh out for the night).

doesn’t enjoy dates out and about, but will gladly take you to the quieter spots of the city. maybe the library for a nice reading date, the two of you cuddled together in a corner with a book each.

…though, his attention is definitely focused on you, rather than the text in his hand.

will literally do anything for you. yeah, he might tease you a little for it, but he won’t hesitate.

alhaitham’s always been sure of himself. whether people thought he was arrogant or just that self-confident, he didn’t really care either way.

but for you? oh, for you…

he loves you. he could never deny that.

“you are the only one who could ever make me feel this way. i love you, y/n. let’s stay together for a long time. dare i say forever?”

#✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮ genshin #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham genshin impact

273 notes · View notes

billiedeansbitch · 5 months

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 4]

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: Larissa was compelled to use her annual leave to take care of her nieces for five days; what she wasn’t expecting was that an unnecessarily attractive baby-sitter would be accompanying her as well.

a/n: I was stalling for months, I know, and I am deeply sorry. I lost the motivation and the plot and thought about discontinuing this but I suddenly felt the urge to finish this so here you go. I did my very best with this one. And yep there will be another chapter, last one hopefully.

warning/s: NSFW

<<Previous part

@enchantressb @barbarasstar @willowshadenox @gwendolinechristieiscute @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @poorwritingandstalecoffee @justcallmelittleone @digital-demise @kimiinou @a-queen-and-her-throne @larissaoftarthweems

You awoke to the light scratching of her blunt nails against your scalp. The steady hum of her heart was audible in your ears as you found yourself pressed against her with almost half of your weight. She had her phone occupying her left hand, the length of her legs were stretched on the bed, one ankle over the other. It was still dark, you noticed. The curtains were still drawn, and she had her lamp on, softly casting light in the room.

"Hello," you whispered, gently trying to stir her focus.

Larissa peered down at you, "Did I wake you?"

"No, no…It just sort of happened. What are you doing?"

"Checking my emails but I’m done just about now."

Larissa locked her phone with an audible click before setting it down on the nightstand with the screen facing the surface. Now she was looking at you with undivided attention. It made you feel important.

“Did you know you passed out?”

"What? No I didn't." you let out an incredulous laugh, "That's simply not true." You could hardly believe it and oh, she was adamant to make you.

You felt her shift, a hand winding up around your shoulder.

"Oh, but it is. I didn't break you or did I?" The woman barely had to work up the effort to hide how smug she was of herself. It dripped down to the very last word. Her head tilted to the side. You couldn’t see her, with your face buried on her side but you knew she was smirking. It made you blush more.

It was hard to believe it but then if you’d think about it, it wasn’t entirely impossible that what she was saying was somehow…well, the truth, especially if the sex was that fucking good to begin with which she had proven enough in the last two days’ time. Passing out from sex wasn’t totally in your cards this year. Damn. Surprises, right?

At your age you would think that you could last longer, that you’d be the restless one, but boy, you were utterly mistaken. You could vaguely remember shit but then again, Larissa didn’t look like the one to make up stories.

You kept your face hidden, thinking if she couldn’t see you and you couldn’t see her then you wouldn’t have to talk and pretend you had fallen asleep once more.

“You seem broken, dear. Can’t speak now, hmm?”

Your cheeks tingle pleasantly, “Sorry,” you mumble. The sound of her low, seductive chuckle reverberated through her chest. Damn it, woman! Your jaw clenched before you let out an exasperated sigh. She chuckled again.

Larissa coaxed you out of your hiding, “Look at me.”

Your heart stuttered once your eyes met, breath temporarily stilling. Her cheeks were glowing, like the after sex haze was still left on her skin. And before your mind could drift to some far away land, she spoke again.

“You didn’t want me to stop. Why?” This time her tone wasn’t playful. Her brows slightly furrowed.

Your eyes wandered elsewhere, “Do I really have to answer that?” You were embarrassed enough that you passed out after the deed, you swore that if you answer this, you’d die from the utter humiliation.

“Yes. I want to hear it.”

You risked a fleeting glance, and shit, maybe you shouldn’t have because you were seeing something in her eyes. She looked…concerned, more than anything else. It was perplexing. You were expecting her to look so pleased with herself. Her face didn’t show any of that.

You wanted to squirm away from her hold but it looked like you would get nowhere with how intense those eyes were looking at you.

Just then you were struck how gravely serious she was. With a deep sigh, you let yourself sink into her. You were thankful when she didn’t force you to look at her, instead she held you safely in her arms, still waiting for an answer.

There was a long stretch of silence: strong, intense, charged, it was awkward. Realizing that she was waiting, you eventually spoke.

“I wanted everything to last.” You started, “I didn’t want to stop kissing you or feeling you. And I thought that if I pushed myself I’d be able to treasure this much longer. I wanted to see traces of you on my body. I wanted to remember where you touched me, and kissed me. That you, at some point, owned me.” It was pathetic how easy you let your guard down. Maybe you’d regret this, maybe not. You just wanted to go to sleep now, for sure.

“I wanted to treasure you.” You found yourself admitting.

“I’ve never been with someone who made me feel at ease to be just myself. You made me feel confident of my scars and flaws. And I just…I ate that shit up—sorry, but that’s how it feels. And I—I’m not ready to let go just yet. I didn’t mean for this to happen, for me to feel this—whatever it is but you…you did things to me that—God, I should stop. I’m sorry.”

And now you were scaring the poor woman.

“There. I’ve said it. Can I sleep now?”

—

Larissa wasn’t expecting that. Of all the things that could be the answer this one didn’t slice through her mind. When you passed out seconds after she slipped her cock out, Larissa panicked. First thing she did was check your breathing, then your pulse, and your temperature. She nearly called 911. It was comical when merely seconds later, she heard unmistakable muffled snores.

The woman couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. It was a full belly laugh at first but then she toned it down seconds later. She found it absolutely hilarious she had tears in her eyes. She had never laughed this much. Nor stared at a person for the longest time and felt a sense of warmth wrapping around her heart.

Larissa didn’t want this night to end. It was a terrifying thought, really. But she couldn’t help herself if she wanted you, could she?

It hadn’t been weeks, hell, she knew you for four days and yet…and yet it only mattered so little to her.

“Y/n” she knew you were desperately trying to dodge her now.

“I swear to God I will kick you off the bed if you don’t look at me.” Now buried under the covers, you poked your head out, keeping the covers right under your chin as if shielding yourself from her.

She was met with a tearful gaze, “I ruined it, didn’t I?” You murmured.

Weems’ eyes softened, shifting in bed so now she was lying on her side, elbow propped, her hand supporting her head. “Come here.”

You questioningly looked at her,

“Just come here.” She said, her looks alone were beckoning you then patted the space next to her. It shouldn’t be hard, but at the moment, you were too overwhelmed with the sudden realization that you just had.

Gradually you found yourself moving closer. Larissa watched you patiently until you were within her reachclose, but still it wasn’t enough.

“Do I look upset?” She asked. It prompted you to look at her. You shook your head.

“No. But—.” She took the matter in her own hand – literally and figuratively – pulled you with one, strong arm until you were pressed to her. She didn’t let you go.

“There’s no but’s or what if’s.” Her tone left no room for doubt to bloom. You shut up, stunned and scared that she knew you were thinking about those but also, your heart seemed to calm down a bit if not entirely.

You felt her spoon you, hugging you so tight, her chin perched on your shoulder. She kissed your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

You held onto the arm across your waist, relieved.

“You didn’t ruin anything, love.”

—

The breakfast zizzled in the pan; it was eggs and bacon strips being cooked to perfection. The warm toasts were already sitting on the plate on the counter. You finished plating the waffles before you moved on to slice bananas and strawberries for the kids, Larissa watched you with fascinated eyes as if you were doing something so extraordinary.

“Strawberry?”

The woman was pulled from her thoughts when she noticed the fruit you were holding out in front of her. She took a careful bite. The juice dribbled down her chin then into her mouth. It was savoury and sweet. You took the other half into your mouth, chewing with glee.

You both went back to your own stations until breakfast was done and served.

Now, the girls were pretty much still half asleep, trying very hard to keep their heads up and munch on their fruits and waffles.

Larissa kept her eyes on you the whole time, only straying whenever you’d look over her direction, she didn’t want you to see how much she longed for you already.

By the time the girls were dropped off to school, Larissa manueved the family car back home in under five minutes.

She was very well aware of the time, as much as she hated checking, she still couldn’t help herself, she thought that ditching her wrist watch was a wise solution but still, her eyes kept wandering to her phone–that at some phone she chucked away to the backseat. Her flight was due at ten pm tonight. She wanted as much time as she had left to be spent with you.

—

“What?” You chuckled away, feeling her hands creeped up from under your shirt to your chest. Larissa kept her lips attached to the skin of your neck, nipping and sucking for a moment before she breathed out her thoughts, “Take off the shirt.”

“Fuck. Again?” You weren’t really complaining though, you were just surprised, it hadn’t been an hour after you showered to rinse the smell of sex off your body after she got home, and now she cornered you against the sink while you were washing the morning dishes.

“Again. Now.” she said with finality in her tone, her teeth scraping your skin deliciously so that you couldn’t help but whimper.

“And keep washing the plates.” she whispered to your ear as her hands pulled the shirt over your head, your shorts found the same fate as your shirt; thrown somewhere else in the kitchen.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe–your body was anticipating the way her soft hands were fondling over your chest. “Larissa,” your body was steaming hot, sweat starting to drip, and fuck, you were incredibly aroused from how she was manhandling your body. Your slick was positively dripping down your inner thighs.

“You feel so fucking good.” her words went straight down to your cunt, the fluttery and achy feeling made you pressed your thighs as firm as possible.

She clicked her tongue, “Spread wide, sweetheart.”

Two of her fingers slipped with ease drawing a relieved moan as she kept you filled. She hummed, pressed her front further to your back, her face pressed on the back of your head, inhaling your scent.

She started to drag it, staring low and steady, her other hand still keeping a firm grasp on one of your breasts.

“If you want it faster all you have to do is beg.” even her voice sounded entirely delectable to you that you just moaned in response, your hips starting to rock against her fingers, matching the pace and creating a rhythm. But after some time, you wanted more and she was teasing.

“Harder. I need you to fuck me harder please.”

“Louder, dear.”

“Fuck me harder, please! Please, Larissa, I need you—”

She groaned as she slammed the length of her fingers back into you, this time filling you with another.

Your head hung low as your hips bucked to her front, giving her a better angle as she took you from behind. You didn’t know how much longer you could support yourself, your arms were already numb as they held your upper body weight on the counter top but she wasn’t showing any signs of stopping anytime sooner. She was set to destroy you and you couldn’t be more pleased with the thought.

The dishes were then again abandoned, she flipped you around, taking one nipple into her mouth before devouring your lips, her fingers still fucking you until you couldn’t process anymore to the point where you were certain that she fucked your brains out.

“Fuck, baby–” you breathed, head falling to her shoulder, “I’m coming”

and come to her fingers you did.

—

Larissa stroked your back as you nurse yourself with a glass of cold water that she fetched for you. You were perched on the counter where she lifted you up after almost losing your balance, her tall frame wedge in between your thighs. The woman herself looked unbelievably poised like she hardly broke a sweat at all while you sat there like a drenched rat on a rainy day.

“Feeling better?”

You set the glass down beside you, then you pulled her closer with your arms around her neck, your forehead resting against her own, “Mhmm, yes. Thank you.”

The both of you stayed entangled for the next few minutes, breathing in sync and just holding each other for dear life. Whatever was ahead, it was best left unspoken.

*unedited* *evil laugh*

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #gwendoline christie imagines #larissa weems imagine #principal larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems smut #wednesday netflix #my brain was fucking rotting #i had to do something about it #and tadaa an update after some fucking months

234 notes · View notes

i-amyou · 21 days

Note

Hello my beautiful butterfly.you deactivated and I feel sad, not because of the need to read your blog, but because of the lack of your beautiful words, you are kind and sweet, I can feel that even without "knowing you", I know that you are back here temporarily, so before Leaving, I want to clear up my last doubt.

When I imagine, I know that what I imagined happens instantly. But, when I open my eyes, it seems that there is a present feeling of “waiting” to experience what was imagined, even though I realize that I am aware of this “waiting” I get confused, because if I KNOW it is instantaneous , I end up being lost. And I don't know how to reverse this situation, it seems like a cycle. I don't want to live conscious of waiting for myself to have, to be. But it's so confusing and leaves me with doubts.So, I observe and calm down, but that feeling of waiting is always present, as if telling me “Hey, you don't have it yet, just wait and see what you want, it's not here, there's a process for you to have it.” It's like a duality of thoughts and feelings, and I get frustrated at being lost again without knowing how to reverse it.

I want my being so much, I want happiness so much, so completely that I can't explain it, and sometimes I feel vulnerable, human. like the moon that longs to find the sun but always gets lost along the way, the moon glimpses the brightness of the sun appearing at dawn, but that light recedes and is lost to sight with the sunrise and the moon returns to its vast darkness, both know of each other's existence, but are unable to be together.Although both are present in each other, occurring in the same space. (That's how I feel). I've experienced silence, an empty mind, I still remember the first time I felt it, immediate happiness, I want to go home, I want to be at peace, enjoy life and have sweet dreams, but I feel lost and I can 't know how to deal with problems. I just want everything to be okay, I'm tired of the pain, tired of the suffering. We are like children, innocent, just crying and longing to return home, to the arms of our beloved mother (Being). Do you understand me?

Sorry for the text, I promised it would be my last question, I tried to summarize as much as possible. Thank you I love you. 🫂

English is not my language, sorry if the words are confusing.

– 🌙☀️🌌

(I know these words are meaningless and nothing new, I've said this before, over and over again. But for the sake of it, let me share them again. This is the last I'm sharing, going on an indefinite break after this. Sending Love to y'all ❤🌇)

Hello my glistening moon, it's okay. First of all, Breathe. You are always OKAY. I totally understand what you're trying to say. But more reading and seeking would get you Nowhere, I have something in my Notes for this and I'll add it here. Just read it, take it as pointer, and turn within. Only you can free yourself by realising you've always been free, only you can make yourself at Home by realising you never left. Let this be the LAST POST you read 🌙🌃

And with this, I'm logging off. अलविदा, अपना ध्यान रखना❤

#ask #nothingness #consciousness #awareness #beingness #realisation

99 notes · View notes

shadowynn · 1 year

Text

| in love and lore | ten |

pairing: ot8 ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, some violence, mentions of blood

wordcount: 8.5k

a/n: so, i know it's been a minute, and i'm sorry. i'm just a little bad about writing multiple stories at the same time as i get super absorbed in one or the other. but, it's finally here and i hope you all enjoy. i know at some point i said we'd have a yunho moment, but sadly that has been moved to the next chapter, but don't worry, it's coming! once again, thank you for all the support and love!

| nine | ten | eleven |

~~~

My blood is on my own hands.

The words replayed inside Hongjoong’s mind, repeating themselves over and over again and the way you had curled back into yourself when you had looked at the dead body beside you one last time haunted him. It was the same state you were in now, nearly half an hour later. You had managed to secure your thoughts well enough from them, but your emotions leaked through the walls you had built inside your mind, filling him and the others with the guilt that racked your body.

It took everything in him to not go to you in that moment, desperate to ease your mind and convince you that none of this was your fault. If anyone were to be blamed for what happened, it was him. It was his fault the borders of the camp hadn’t been secure enough and his fault for allowing you to be in harm’s way. He should have never dropped his guard around you. He should have never left you alone. He should have made sure one of them was around you at all times, but he hadn’t. He had let himself grow lax with your safety and had nearly lost you because of it. What would have happened if one of his men hadn’t heard you and came to investigate? What if he hadn’t gotten the message relayed in time? Would he have still gotten to you in time? Or would it have been too late?

He struggled with this last thought, uncertain what he would have done if he had lost you tonight. He had just found you, had just finally gotten you; and the thought of losing you just after finally having you in his hands sent a wave of fear running through him that he hadn’t felt in years.

He remembered exactly what had happened to Seoyun all those years ago, remembered exactly how much the death had hurt her. And even now, nearly a decade and a half later, she wasn’t the same. A part of her had died that night alongside her mate.

The thought of going through that very same thing terrified him. It left him fighting every fiber of his being that yearned to never let you out of his sight again, to keep you right by his side for as long as he could. It left him fighting the urge to lock you away, somewhere no one could ever get to you. Somewhere no one could ever hurt you. And despite knowing you were completely safe and secure in Jongho’s hands, he still couldn’t get rid of the urge to be with you himself.

“Hongjoong.” He hadn’t noticed he was moving until Mingi stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Rushing her isn't going to help right now.”

Hongjoong nodded, collapsing back down in his seat. He knew that, but the urge to make things up with you was still there. The apology he had given you earlier replayed itself in his mind, reminding him of how flat it had seemed to fall. If he could just go to you for a minute and convince you that it was his fault, that he was to blame, perhaps…

“Jongho's got her, see?” Mingi replied, taking note of the way your emotions had temporarily lifted, the guilt that had racked your body disappearing for just a moment.

But despite Mingi’s assurances, it was clear he and the others were of a similar mindset. Though a relative silence had settled amongst those who remained in the camp, he could feel the tension that had settled between them. Each one of them fighting the same inward battle as himself because they had failed just as he had. They had sworn to keep you safe, that nothing would happen to you, but they had very nearly lost you tonight. The notion made all the worse knowing it had happened right under their care.

“The camp should be secure now.” San interrupted their conversation as he made his way inside their tent, wrapping a cloth around the palm of his left hand to stop the bleeding. “I put another barrier up around your tent as well, Hongjoong, ensuring we’re the only ones who can get to her at the moment. I know she doesn’t think it was one of our men who did it, but I didn’t want to take any more chances.”

Hongjoong nodded, fully realizing that was something he should have thought of himself when he had doubled the guard for the rest of the night. And he would have, if he had been thinking clearly, but he hadn’t.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try and access his memories?” Wooyoung brought back the topic from earlier as San collapsed down onto the cot next to him, not quite content with his earlier answer. “I don’t think there’s any harm in trying; not as long as we have the antidote in hand.”

“No, I don’t want to risk it.” Hongjoong shook his head. Wooyoung had made it clear he had no qualms risking his life by ingesting the dead daemon’s blood in an attempt to piece together what exactly had happened tonight, but the idea hadn’t sat well with him or the others. Not with the bloodsbane that still contaminated it and not after what had happened to you. He couldn’t go through two scares like that in one night. “Not when we don’t even know if it would work. You’ve never ingested a dead man’s blood before.”

“Well, what about hers, then?” Wooyoung was quick to ask instead. “Perhaps we could get a better idea of what exactly happened if I saw-“

“No.” Mingi cut his second idea off before he could finish it. “She already hates that she can’t keep her thoughts to herself because of the bond. Imagine how she would feel if you were to go through everything she had thought and experienced over the past day.”

“But if I asked her first, maybe-“

“You really think she would agree to that?” Seonghwa leaned forward in his seat, settling his chin into his hand. “That she would just let you shift through her thoughts and feelings of your ride with her from earlier?”

“But if it’ll help us find out who-“

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s voice served as a warning, but he wasn’t upset, not when he knew all the younger daemon wanted to do was help. “y/n already went through everything she remembered with us, so I doubt you would be able to gain any information that would prove beneficial. The best course of action at the moment is to wait to hear back from Yunho and Yeosang.”

“And have they found anything yet?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong closed his eyes, reaching out towards the bond that tied himself to Yunho. The tent he was currently sitting inside faded from view, turning into the forest they had been traveling through the past few days. The woods were dark this time of night, the trees surrounding them blocking the majority of the moonlight, but he could just make out the shadowy figure of the wolf Yunho was using to track just a few feet ahead. Once Yunho had caught sight of the tracks near the original attack site, his shadow beast had been able to catch the scent of the person who had been there. Unsure of what exactly waited on the other end of the trail, he had sent Yeosang with him to hide their presence and given orders for them to stay out of sight and await further instructions once they reached the end of the trail.

Have you found anything? Hongjoong repeated the question to Yunho, hoping he had more information than what he was seeing at first glance.

“No,” Yunho’s voice was low, breathless from the time he had been running, “but I think we’re nearing the end of the trail.”

Sure enough, Yunho’s observation was correct. Just a few moments later his beast came to a stop at the edge of a small clearing. Even knowing they were fully covered from sight with Yeosang’s ability, they still came to a stop beside it, peering out into it from the cover of the trees in search of a sign of those they had been tracking.

“No one’s here.” Yeosang was the first to make the observation, quickly taking note that though there were clear signs of a makeshift camp at one point, the clearing was now abandoned. There were no visible signs of anyone still being within the surrounding area, quickly scattering before any form of retaliation hit them.

Hold your cover for just a moment longer. Hongjoong pulled back from Yunho, bringing himself back to his current position at their camp. He turned to Seonghwa beside him, ready to meet up Yunho and Yeosang. “They’ve made it to the camp.”

He didn’t have to convey anything else for Seonghwa to nod his understanding and take the wrist Hongjoong extended in his direction. Despite being long used to the mechanics of Seonghwa’s ability, he still tensed as his fangs sunk into his skin, taking in the blood he needed to transport Hongjoong alongside him.

In a matter of seconds, he had joined the other two miles away, taking in the site with his own two eyes. Yeosang had been right in his assessment, besides the three other daemons currently with him, he didn’t sense any other auras in the surrounding area. Whoever had been here before was now long gone, taking off into the night.

And why would they have stayed? While the true intent of their attack was uncertain, it was clear they had attempted some form of secrecy with it. Whether it had been just a means to scout them out, sneak inside and find a way to him, or something else, he wasn’t sure, but their plan had failed the moment you had shown up. You had unknowingly ruined their plan, causing them to turn heel and run for the time being.

“Should I have Haru track them further?” Yunho asked, scratching his shadow beast behind its ear when it nudged its head against his hands. Despite not truly being alive, Yunho’s beasts acted strangely lifelike, uncanny only because of how different they were from his predecessor. Yunho’s care towards the beasts clearly showed in the way they manifested themselves with his blood.

Hongjoong was silent at first as he approached the clearing, taking in the dying embers of a fire. Whoever had been here, had left in quite the hurry, not bothering to hide their previous presence there. By the amount of tracks littering the grounds, the group had been small, no more than a handful. Whether they had been human or daemon, however, it was impossible to tell, but he leaned towards the latter. Something strange had gone on tonight in the attack, something that only became possible with the daemon’s maetha.

Though they had quite the head start, there was no doubt they would be able to catch up with the group. As long as they had a hint of one of their scents, Yunho’s beast would be able to track it for miles. Whether or not that was the best way to spend their time and resources at the moment, however, he was unsure.

A part of him was well aware it might have been in their best interest to just let them go. Tracking them down could very well take days to complete, spreading his guard thin, especially Yunho and Seonghwa, who would carry the majority of the work on their own shoulders. And if Seonghwa was right, if it was part of the militia groups that had caused mayhem for his father, there was a very good chance they would never find them at all, wasting all of their time. It might very well have been better to just stay on the defensive, continue on towards Taeyang with extra caution. The attackers had lost the element of surprise, making it much harder for them to attempt anything else the remainder of the trip.

But he couldn’t let go of the fact they had hurt you, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let them just get away with it. Accident or not, it didn’t matter; he would make sure they paid for their crimes. He would make sure that everyone knew you were not something to be messed with; that there were consequences to those actions.

“Are you up for a long chase?” Hongjoong straightened up, turning back to the taller daemon. A part of him was aware you would likely be against this decision, aware you would likely want him to just leave it be and move on, but he couldn’t. Not when the situation had affected you the way it had. Not when he knew his inaction could very well risk your life again.

Yunho nodded, and the beast at his side sprung into action, beginning to sniff out the trail the previous occupants had taken.

“I’ll stay with Yunho for now. Yeosang, you can head back with Seonghwa and let the others know what’s going on.” Hongjoong began, fingers itching to be on the hunt. Your words continued replaying in his mind even now, and the sight of you clinging to Seonghwa hit him once more. The only thing he wanted more than to be by your side at this moment was to bathe himself in the blood of the man who had done that to you. “We’ll stay camped where we are now for the time being. San set up multiple barriers, so y/n should be safe, but-“

“Don’t worry,” Yeosang put his hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, “we won’t let anything else happen to-“

“Something’s wrong.” Yunho interrupted them from across the clearing, bent down next to his beast, “Haru can’t catch a scent.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought maybe he just needed more blood for the second chase, but even with it, he keeps acting as though their trail ends here.” Yunho looked up to the rest of the group, wiping his bloodied hand against his pants. “He caught something, I’m sure of it, but once he reaches the end of the clearing, it’s gone.”

“And what does that mean?” Yeosang’s head tilted, eyes glancing between each of them. “That they just, what… disappeared?”

“I don’t think so,” Yunho’s brow furrowed, attempting to get Haru to track the scent once more. “I can see their tracks running off in this direction, but Haru doesn’t seem able to track it.”

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa’s voice was low, etched with worry.

“I know,” Hongjoong replied, coming to the same solution Seonghwa had. It was one he had known was a possibility all along, but one he had very much hoped wasn’t true. Because if it was, they had much more trouble on their hands than they had originally believed.

“But why now? Why after all these years do they act now?” Yeosang asked, eyes sweeping the grounds around him in a new light. “What was their goal? What did they possibly hope to achieve tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Hongjoong went over your words once again in his mind, hoping to glean just a bit more information. Your hesitation had been clear, almost certain it hadn’t been their guard who had attacked you in that moment, but he had brushed your worries aside in the hope that you were wrong. Because if you were right, and it hadn’t been one of their own that had attacked you…

“Forget the trail. There’s no way we’ll be able to track them now.” He ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep a string of curses from rolling out. “At least not from the ground. We’ll head back for now, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to get a set of eyes in the skies before we go.”

Yunho nodded, and his wolf dissolved into the shadows around it, replaced a few seconds later by an owl. It quickly took off into the night, sent out searching for any sign of their attackers from above. Even if they couldn’t track them down physically, any sort of information they could glean would be beneficial, even if it was just the size of the group.

With Yunho’s scout sent out, they prepared for Seonghwa to take them back to camp and tell the others what they had discovered. No one would be happy with the news they brought, and as much as Hongjoong didn’t want to resort to it, he now questioned whether or not Wooyoung had been right. Perhaps attempting to shift through the memories of the dead daemon or your own was the best move to make. Perhaps it would give them information they wouldn’t be able to get elsewhere.

God, he thought this night couldn’t get any worse, but he had been quickly proven wrong. He had thought things would get better now that the war was over, but if they were right - and all signs were beginning to point that way - human retaliation was now the least of his problems. Because if it was them who had appeared tonight, he had a whole new series of problems to attend to, especially if they had found out about you and just who exactly you were.

~~~

Angel, are you alright?

You looked up to find Jongho still standing before you, faintly aware that he had still been speaking to you. Whatever he had been telling you though, you had missed, too wrapped up with your own thoughts to take his words in. If Jongho minded, he didn’t show it, simply proffering the items in his hands over to you now that he knew he held your attention once again.

“Once you’re done, you can sleep here tonight.” Jongho didn’t press you for an answer to the question he had asked you in your head, most likely repeating whatever he had been saying when you had lost focus. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

You nodded, accepting the bundle he handed over to you and setting it down on the table beside you to avoid getting any of the blood that coated you onto them too. A small part of you was aware the clothes Jongho had given you were not your own, most likely an extra set of Hongjoong’s, just as that same part of you was aware Jongho was requesting you sleep here tonight. If circumstances had been normal, you would have argued your way out of each, not seeing the need for either when your own were just a few tents down, but you were too exhausted to argue. And after everything that had just happened, you didn’t completely mind, not really.

You weren’t sure exactly how you felt. Once the adrenaline had worn off, you were left with a wide variety of emotions flooding your system. Your first concern had been the daemon who had died, consumed with a guilt for not saving his life, for not acting quickly enough. But as guilty as you felt, your anxiety was quick to take over. The thought of what might have happened to you if the other daemon hadn’t come to investigate floored you. What would have happened if he hadn’t gotten Hongjoong like you asked? Would you even still be alive right now? Or would you have gotten yourself killed?

While you had often tread closely to the heat of the battles during the war, the only significant injury you had ever received was the stray arrow in the fight at Maehwa. It had been painful, there was no doubt about that, but you had soldiers nearby who were well trained and able to get you to safety and ensure you were never in any immediate danger as they helped to ensure you could heal yourself. But tonight, tonight you had placed yourself in a situation where you had been completely helpless. If it wasn’t for the nearby daemon whose curiosity had gotten the better of him or the surprise the daemon felt at your presence once he had stabbed you, you didn’t doubt you would be in a very different situation than you were now. If you were even still alive.

It was the same thought that was in everyone’s mind tonight, but unlike yourself, they each had pinned the blame on themselves; racked with the guilt of seeing you injured under their care. You could feel hints of their remorse flowing through to yourself, making it difficult to differentiate between your own and serving to make you feel worse overall. The only person who was at fault tonight was yourself. You had been the one who had gone out on your own, yearning for some peace and quiet away from them. And you were the one who had gone after the daemon instead of running and getting help for the both of you. Why they would blame themselves for your injury, you didn’t understand, and you wished they would see the only one at fault was yourself.

“Jongho.”

You reached out for his wrist, pulling him to a stop before he could leave you. You weren’t sure exactly what it was that you wanted to say, or why exactly you had stopped him, consumed with a yearning to stop the guilt that played in his own mind. But anything that you might have thought of fell away when you caught his gaze, taken back by the raw emotion displayed there; the tenderness in his features making your heart leap. The sudden yearning to cross the distance between the two of you and envelop yourself in his arms struck you quickly, and before you could process the thought completely or how the action might have been met by him, you were giving in and doing just that.

“I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure exactly what you were apologizing for as your arms wrapped themselves around his chest, quickly burying your face into his neck and relishing the warmth his body brought. You could feel him initially tense as you tugged yourself into him, but just as you were about to pull back out of embarrassment, he responded and swiftly wrapped you up in his own embrace.

“For what?” There was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke, clearly taken back by the sudden show of vulnerability you had given. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you’re standing there blaming yourself over something I did.” Your fingers grasped at his shirt, attempting to somehow pull yourself in closer. Your chest thrummed at the close contact; his touch helping to fill the hollowness that had plagued you since the bond had been put into place. “I should have acted faster. I should have gotten a hold of one of you first. I’m not a fighter, I know that, and yet, I can’t seem to stop myself when someone’s in danger no matter how many times I get myself hurt.”

You didn’t regret your actions, not truly, but as the panic faded and your mind cleared, you quickly began to see everything you had done wrong. You had lost precious time in your indecision, time that could have been much better spent getting someone who knew what to do in the given situation. While you knew you would never forgive yourself if you just left the guard to die, you had long come to see how foolish your actions had been. You could have very well gotten yourself killed alongside him and then how many more would have died without your warning?

Soomin often got onto you for your tendency to head into dangerous situations, completely forgoing your own personal safety for the sake of others. A part of you was aware her worries were warranted; she was looking out for you and only wanted to make sure you always got back home in one piece. But it was difficult for you to put your life above those around you. You understood where she and Hyunwoo came from, knowing you would do anything and everything to keep them safe if your roles were reversed, but it was hard to put the same priority on yourself. You had never done well when someone died under your care, unable to live with the knowledge you might have been able to do something for them.

And tonight you had once again put your life on the line and very nearly gotten yourself killed. When Soomin heard about what happened, you’d never hear the end of it, and quite possibly neither would any of the eight men who had promised to protect you. Though they might not blame you for what happened, you knew Soomin would waste no time telling you how unbelievably stupid you had been.

But it wasn’t only your actions and regrets that had taken your mind captive for the night, and the more you went over everything in your head, the less it all made sense. Why had the attackers only shot the one arrow? Why had you not been shot at when you had finally found the strength to act? And what had happened to the guard under your care? He had died, you were certain of it, and yet, he had moved and spoke with an ease that should have been impossible. And even if it hadn’t been, even if he had somehow miraculously healed himself, what had he been going on about? You hadn’t made out much in your injured status, much more preoccupied with the dagger sticking in you, and yet, what little you had heard had only served to confuse you further. He had seemed completely surprised by your appearance, and though you had likely never spoken to him before, he should have been familiar enough with who you were and what you could do. He should have known you were there to help him and he should have known you were perfectly safe inside the camp.

“And we should have never dropped our guard around you. We should have been more diligent with your protection.” Jongho’s grip loosened, pulling you back just far enough so he could look you in your face. “We promised that nothing would happen to you under our care and we failed.” His hands left your waist, moving upwards to cup your face and ensure your gaze was directly on him.

“And I told you that you can’t always fight my battles for me, nor do I expect that of you.” You shook your head. “I understand you want to protect me, but as much as you may wish it to be otherwise, you won’t always be able to be there, and blaming yourself each time it happens will only serve to make me feel worse.” You lifted your hand to meet his, covering it with your own. “Despite what you may think, I don’t blame any of you for what happened tonight and I won’t hold you accountable for the consequences of my own actions. My life, my blood, is in my own hands and no one else’s.”

To your surprise, the hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Has anyone ever told you how annoyingly stubborn you are before, angel?”

“It may have been mentioned a few times before, but,” you huffed, unable to keep your own smile from peaking through, remembering how Yeosang had told you something similar a few weeks ago, “that’s besides the point. I want you to stop blaming yourself for what happened tonight.”

“Only if you agree to do the same.” He retorted back, causing you to narrow your gaze.

Now who was being stubborn?

You didn’t try to hide your thoughts. If anything, you wanted him to hear it, and seeing the way his shoulders lightened at your teasing remark and the smile it tugged on his lips lifted a small weight off your own chest.

Now that the tension in the room was beginning to dissipate, you were becoming aware of just how close the two of you were and found it not quite as easy to hold his gaze any longer. Your eyes shifted to the side, hoping the hands Jongho held to your face covered the blush working its way up the back of your neck. But one quick glance back in Jongho’s direction showed you weren’t the only one growing flustered by the events.

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t keep a frown from peeking through as you did your best to gently step away from him, taking in the blood that now stained his own clothes. He let you go with little resistance, scratching at the back of his head. “I wasn’t thinking.”

He followed the direction of your gaze to his shirt, understanding just what you were apologizing for once he saw the stains for himself. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” He waved your concern away. “This happens quite often.”

“Right.” You nodded, shuffling awkwardly. You recalled Wooyoung’s words from the first night in their camp, how he had mentioned Jongho’s tenacity on the battlefield. He had been right though, you never would have expected that out of the daemon standing before you, seemingly just as flustered by your previous exchange as you were. “Um, well, I should probably wash off.”

“Right.” Jongho repeated your earlier sentiment. “I’ll be outside then if you need anything.” He motioned to the exit behind him, giving you one last look before turning to follow through with his words, bumping into the table behind him in the process.

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the giggle that threatened to come through, thankful it had been Jongho with you tonight than any of the others. He was easy to be around; his personality most like your own and the least out of all of them to tease you about it later on.

Your conversation with him had helped to alleviate your nerves, allowing you to temporarily forget your worries for just a minute, but it didn’t take them long to return once he was gone and you were left alone scrubbing the blood off your body. With the difference in color between the two it was easy to differentiate the two from each other, the flecks of white signifying the lower daemon’s rank and a stark contrast from your own.

You quickly sank into the water drawn for you, wanting to be rid of the sight as soon as possible, but no matter how much you scrubbed, you didn’t feel clean. How was any of this fair? That you got to live through the night and not him? And for what? Why had he been killed? What had been their motive?

Hongjoong had said it was most likely nothing more than the scattered remains of some human battalion, but you had a hard time believing him. If they weren’t happy with losing the war, then why hadn’t you seen or heard anyone while you were out? Why hadn’t the snuck into the camp and continued their killing spree? Why hadn’t they attacked you when you had attempted to get him to safety? And how had they gotten their hands on bloodsbane, a poison humans were incapable of brewing themselves, and one complicated enough that only a few people knew how to brew other than yourself.

Nothing about the attack gave any sort of evidence towards them being human, but them being other daemons didn’t make much sense either. If it had been daemons upset with the way the war had ended, and upset with your presence here with them, then why hadn’t he tried to finish you off quickly in the end? Why had he seemed to show you mercy and not just kill you when he had the chance?

Your fingers brushed against the skin where the dagger had sunk into. There was no physical sign that you had been stabbed recently, the area unblemished and smooth beneath your fingertips. What would have happened to you if your blood hadn’t had its healing properties? Not just tonight, but yourself in general? What would have become of you if you hadn’t been able to heal yourself and others from the brink of death with just a few drops?

You had never seen your ability as a curse. How could you when it had saved you and so many others? But you would have been lying if you had said you had never wished to exchange it for something else. At the time, you would have traded it and your ability to brew potions away if it meant you could be human. If it meant you could have an easier life and fit in, you would have eagerly given it all away, but now, now you weren’t so sure. You didn’t think you yearned to be human anymore, but you didn’t want to be fully daemon either, nor did you want to continue being stuck in the middle. You just wanted to fit in, to not be judged and controlled by those around you. You just wanted to be yourself, but exactly what or who that was, you didn’t know anymore.

You didn’t stray in the water for long, climbing out and tugging on the clothes Jongho had grabbed for you earlier. If you weren’t certain they were Hongjoong’s before, you were now. They smelled distinctly of him and you couldn’t resist the urge to pull the collar up to your face and breathe his scent in. Your senses weren’t as strong as a daemon, but you were familiar enough with his to detect the subtle hints of it in them and the tent around you. It left a wave of warmth flooding through you, easing the stress the night had brought and making you wonder why you resisted the bond you had with each of them so much.

Perhaps if things had been different. Perhaps if you hadn’t been their mate and you hadn’t been forced into all of this with very little choice. Perhaps if they hadn’t been daemons, if they hadn’t been the king and his generals and you not a half-daemon. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been so afraid of what the future held and afraid of getting hurt. It was safer for you to keep your distance and safer if you continued to refuse their advances, because the moment you let your guard down, the moment you finally gave in, you would only have opened yourself to get hurt. It had happened before and it would happen again. You had long learned those above you only treated you kindly because they wanted something from you, and the moment that use was gone, so were they.

Which is why you hated the bond that tied you to each of them, hated the way it filled you with emotions and yearnings so against your natural inclination. You wanted to keep your distance, wanted to keep yourself safe, but fighting it was so damn hard. It warped your emotions, making it difficult to differentiate between what was real and what was fake, because those emotions and thoughts were fake, right? Created by whatever magic they had used to effectively tie you to them. Despite how real they might have felt, they were manufactured. They had to be. And yet, you couldn’t stop the deep yearning in the pit of your stomach to walk back outside the tent and bury yourself back into Jongho’s arms.

You forced the thoughts away before you got yourself obsessing over how exactly each of them felt about you once again, the very thing you had gone out into the night to avoid earlier. The realization would have made you laugh if it didn’t depress you so much, fully realizing now that staying in bed would have been the wiser thing to do. But, you hadn’t, and one look at the bed in the corner was all it took to let you know sleep wouldn’t be coming for you anytime soon. Your brain was still much too active to sleep.

You didn’t want to be alone either, though, and despite the awkwardness you felt over your last interaction with Jongho, you couldn’t fight the part of you that craved to be near him once again. And though you didn’t want to give in so easily, you wasted little time thinking it over and heading outside. The daemon had kept his word, and you found him settled on the ground next to the entrance when you stepped outside. He fiddled with a dagger, flipping it in between his fingers, but his movements stilled when he heard your soft approach.

“Is something wrong?” Jongho asked as you settled on the ground next to him, just far enough to avoid brushing up against him.

“No,” you shook your head, “I just don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon.” You brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and shivering slightly from the night air. The daemon’s clothes were made of a lighter fabric of your own, coming from the warmer climates of the south, but winter was fast approaching. “And laying in bed with only thoughts to occupy myself will only serve to drive me crazy.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You did your best to avoid his gaze, still slightly embarrassed by your interaction with him earlier. What did he think of it? “I just don’t really want to be alone right now.”

It was strange enough having someone who cared that wasn’t family, but even stranger knowing just who was sitting beside you. After all the rumors you had heard about him and the others, you never expected the man sitting beside you, let alone that he would be your supposed mate; someone bound to you by the ancient magic of the daemons. It left you wondering just who the real Jongho was: the bloodthirsty daemon on the battlefield or the shy, blushing boy next to you now.

It left you wondering just who exactly the others were as well. There was no denying the darkness inside each of them, but was that their true nature or one built by the cruelty they had been shown themselves? You remembered the first night you had with Hongjoong. The man had oozed the aura and feel of the daemon king he was. His very nature and actions fitting the man you had heard of. He had gleefully killed Hayoon without a second thought, and yet, there was the Hongjoong you had seen in private. The Hongjoong who had very nearly broken down when he had explained how your parents had died, and the Hongjoong who had clung to you as though his very life had depended upon it.

“Jongho, what was your childhood like?” The question was out before you could stop it, curious for a peek of the boy he had been then. “Before you discovered you were a part of the Black Guard, that is.”

“Oh, well, it wasn’t much different from what it is now.” If Jongho took offense to your prying question, he didn’t show it. Instead, he crushed the dagger he had been fiddling with - reminding you of the other question prodding at the back of your mind - to free up his arms and lean his weight back against them. “My father has been training the king’s soldiers for almost two centuries now, so I grew up in the royal court and was familiar with the royal family before I became a member of Hongjoong’s guard. In fact, I was quite close to both him and Seonghwa before my horns turned black.”

“The two of you grew up in court?” You asked, just now realizing how little you knew about all of them. Besides the little bit of backstory Yeosang had revealed to you before, and the bits you had put together by comments here and there, you didn’t really know anything about any of them.

Jongho nodded. “It was far less glamorous than you might imagine, especially for Seonghwa. His mother was a handmaid for Hongjoong’s mother, the current queen at the time, but their are never many children in the city, so we often spent time together despite the queen’s distaste for it.”

“She didn’t approve?”

“No, despite being far from noble blood herself, she never approved of Hongjoong associating himself with anyone she thought was too far beneath him,” Jongho replied, causing your stomach to twist. You hadn’t given Hongjoong’s mother much thought before now. In fact, you hadn’t even been aware if she was alive or not, but you couldn’t help but selfishly begin to wish she was dead. If she didn’t approve of Seonghwa before he was chosen for the Black Guard, what would she think of you? Someone who wasn’t even fully daemon? “She didn’t mind me quite as much; my father had earned my family’s name respect, but she did often try to keep Hongjoong away from the both of us, saying he needn’t concern himself with those outside his guard, so you can imagine her shock when our horns both turned black, especially Seonghwa’s.”

“She sounds lovely.” You couldn’t keep the sarcasm from coming through, tightening your grip on your legs. You had known all along the issues your presence would bring when you arrived in Taeyang, but Hongjoong’s mother had not been a source of anxiety for you until now.

Jongho chuckled, oblivious to how much his words had affected you. “That would be one way to describe her. She was never nearly as bad as his father was, but she was his mate…” His smile faded away and you knew exactly where his thoughts had traveled based on the way his entire demeanor fell. You had learned exactly what sort of man Hongjoong’s father was.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through when you were younger.” Your head fell to his shoulder, hoping to be able to comfort him in some way and feeling guilty for bringing the past memories back up. Physical touch made the bond thrum for yourself, so you hoped it would do the same for him now, conveying the empathy you felt for him. Based upon the way his body relaxed and leaned further into your touch, you figured you were right. “I wish I could have been there for you sooner.”

“How have you done it, angel?”

“Hmm?” You tilted your head towards his face, not quite understanding what he had meant.

“This world has not treated you kindly, and yet, you haven’t let it destroy you. You haven’t let it corrupt you. Despite everything you’ve gone through, you treat everyone with a kindness they do not deserve.”

“I guess when you’re born into a world that hates you, you learn very quickly you can either let it get the best of you or simply make the best of it.” You shrugged, settling further into his side. A part of you was conscious of the vulnerability you were showing him, warning you to pull back before you got yourself into a situation where you ended up hurt, but after everything that had just happened, you were too exhausted to care. It felt nice. He felt nice. “And with my ability to heal, it just feels natural to want to help those around me. No matter who they are or what they’ve done.”

“That doesn’t mean you should live with the weight of the world upon your shoulders. That doesn’t mean you should blame yourself every time someone dies around you.” His reply made you stop. “You didn’t kill the guard tonight nor have you ever killed anyone else that may have died under your watch. Your hands are clean.”

“You’re wrong.” Your grip tightened itself on your legs, unable to stop the pit growing in your stomach. “Am I not at least partially to blame if I had the ability to save them and chose not to? Would you not hold some resentment towards me if I had decided to not save Seonghwa? Would you not have held some of the blame on me?”

He was silent for a moment and you didn’t dare look him in the face, terrified of the guilt you would find there. You already knew the answer to your question, fully realizing he had every right to think that way. That it was perfectly reasonable for him to put the blame on you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to. That didn’t mean it made you feel any better. You didn’t want to be right.

“Do you blame Hongjoong for your parents’ deaths?”

Your lips twisted, unsure how exactly his reply made you feel. No, you didn’t blame him for what had happened. Perhaps a part of you had for a minute, seeking some sort of vengeance for what had happened, but you knew it wasn’t his fault and you couldn’t, wouldn’t put the blame on him when you knew it was his father’s fault and not his own.

“Perhaps a part of me would have been upset if you hadn’t chosen to save him, but it would be wrong to pin the blame on you. You shouldn’t live your life on the expectations of others. The choice should ultimately be yours.”

You knew his statement was meant to be supporting, but it fell flat, causing you to pull away from him. “Well, no one has ever seemed to care what I want in life before. That has always seemed to already be decided for me.”

“Angel, I didn’t mean… shit.” Jongho pulled back as well, running a hand through his hair as a string of curses rolled out. “I’m sorry.”

“I know and I’m trying, it’s just…” You were trying not to be resentful, trying to understand things from their point of view. They were trying to make up for the past, right? You could see it in their actions, but that didn’t mean the past didn’t still hurt. It didn’t take the sting away from his words. It didn’t make him feel any less of a hypocrite.

Your chin settled in between your knees, the current conversation reminding you of the one the two of you had had the night everything had changed. But as frustrated as you were with everything that had been said and done, you couldn’t shake your own guilt from that night. While Jongho’s own words had stung and his actions hurtful, you now realized the weight your own words had on him that night when you had mentioned he had no idea what it was like to not have a choice. At the time, you had thought it to be true, frustrated by how he and the others had been dictating your every move, but that wasn’t true. Not exactly. Not after what you had learned about his past.

“I’m sorry as well.” Your grip tightened against your legs once more, but your head fell back to its former place on his shoulder. “That night Hongjoong killed Hayoon, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. You know exactly what it’s like to not be given a choice and I apologize for implying you didn’t.”

“Angel, you have nothing to apologize for.” Jongho leaned into your touch, head falling on top of your own. “You had every reason to be upset that night and it should be me apologizing for it.”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still wish to…”

A yawn escaped your lips, mumbling your words. The exhaustion that had built up inside you the past few days was finally taking a hold of you as the adrenaline of the events left your body. Jongho’s gentle presence next to you only further helping you to relax and while you knew it was probably for the best if you took the time to try and sleep, you didn’t want to leave his side.

“If you’re tired, you should go sleep.” But the way his arm had snuck around your back to help support your body told you he was of a similar mindset as you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded your head, but it was easier said than done unfolding yourself from his side. Jongho didn’t attempt to push you any further, letting you stay next to him as long as you wanted, but the moment you did pick yourself up and disappeared back inside the tent, you felt your anxiety crawling back once you were alone again. You couldn’t keep a frown from appearing as you stood in the middle of the tent, hating how being separated from them made you feel. You had spent your whole life by yourself, fully able to deal with your anxieties and problems on your own, but now that they had entered it, you struggled. Even with Jongho just a few feet away, and the rest not too much farther, your chest ached, wanting nothing more than to curl back up with Jongho, craving the relief his presence brought.

There was some relief in knowing it was Hongjoong’s tent you were in, and though you had some hesitation sleeping here for the night, curling up in his bed helped to ease your mind a little. You buried yourself beneath the covers, once again breathing in his scent that surrounded you, and for a very brief moment, you wondered what it would be like if he was here with you. A thought that sent you quickly hiding your face under the covers despite fully knowing no one could see you at the moment. But as embarrassed as the thought made you, you couldn’t help but wonder for the briefest of moments what would happen if you did call out to him. Would he come?

It reminded you of your earlier interaction with Wooyoung, a moment that had happened less than a day ago and yet felt so far away after everything that had happened. Despite the uncomfortable spot on top of the horse, you hadn’t slept that well in ages, at ease in his arms. And after everything that had happened, you found yourself craving a moment similar to that once more than you ever cared to admit.

The realization left you groaning, rolling over and burying your head once more as you did your best to kick it and any other similar thought from your mind. But as aggravated as you were with the thoughts, it was a blessed distraction from the rest of your other worries, and though it took a minute, your exhaustion slowly began to get the better of you and you finally drifted off to sleep.

~~~

taglists are now in reblogs :)

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #yunho x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez fantasy au

492 notes · View notes

catladyoftheyr · 14 days

Text

Too Sweet (Ch 3)

Harvey x Reader

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

Summary: picking up off last chapters cliffhanger and diving straight into Harvey’s 4 heart event. You resolve the conflict after the incident with George, Harvey gives you a checkup, and you two share a jar of pickles in his apartment. 💘🥒

Authors note: I know nothing about the Air Force I’m so sorry. It’s just for the plot and vibes. He needed a backstory!!

Word count: 1.7k! A longer chapter as a treat

“Harvey! Oh my god why are you here? Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that” the surprise visit from the doctor had you stumbling over your words. “You scared me. And I don’t actually think your mustache is stupid. I just… I was really embarrassed about what happened earlier.”

“I actually stopped by to thank you for backing me up earlier. George can be stubborn, so I’m glad you got him to listen to you.” The doctor averted eye contact and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh uhhh, sure. How much of what I said did you hear by the way?” You hoped silently that he hadn’t heard you call him cute, especially since you’d been talking to a chicken.Harvey slid down and sat next to you on the floor of the coop.

“Just the part where you insulted my mustache,” he replied, stroking his own facial hair. “The farm is coming along nicely. You must be very dedicated to make such a turn around in such a short time.”

Oh thank Yoba you thought to yourself. “Thank you. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time; I want to honor Grandpa’s memory because he loved this farm and the community. I used to spend a couple weeks here in the summer when I was growing up. I haven’t been back to the valley since I was a teenager. I didn’t think Lewis would recognize me when I came back.” You laughed quietly, an image of you as a gawky adolescent with braces coming back to you

“About earlier, we can put that behind us if you’d like. I didn’t mean to be short with you either. I was startled so I apologize for being curt.” Harvey looked at you with a kind expression before rising from the floor. “I’d like for us to be on good terms going forward.” He extended his hand and helped you up.

———————————————————————————

The bell on the door chimed as you walked in and Harvey’s head poked up from his paperwork. “Hey! Just the person I wanted to see today actually.”

“Oh?”

“I was about to write you a letter recommending that you schedule your annual checkup. If you don’t mind, I’ve got time today actually for a cursory exam.” Truthfully you weren’t very fond of hospitals, or doctor’s appointments. But you were also a terrible liar and had no time to think of an excuse. Better just to get it over with, you supposed.

“I can make it work.” You set the jar of pickles aside temporarily and followed Harvey to an exam room. You sat down on the paper, uncomfortable with the sudden formal shift in your dynamic. You’d gone from friend to patient in a matter of minutes. Harvey placed his stethoscope just under the collar of your shirt and you flinched at the touch of the cold metal.

“Sorry it’s chilly,” Harvey said. “Your heart rate is a little high. Do hospitals make you nervous?” He asked with a slight furrow in his brow.

“A little bit” you admitted. It certainly didn’t help that this was the most physical contact the two of you had shared since you met. He placed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes met. You felt your palms start sweating.

“Take a deep breath for me please” you did as instructed and tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of his hand on you. “Your lungs sound strong.” Harvey was in his element as he checked off the boxes of a routine checkup. He tested your reflexes, examined your ears and eyes, writing down his observations on his clipboard. “So far you seem to be in good health. I just have a few more questions about your lifestyle”

“Ask away, Doc.” Harvey seemed slightly flustered at the nickname but made a quick recovery. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood up straighter, clearing his throat

“As I was saying. Working on the farm involves a fair amount of physical labor I assume, so I’m sure you get enough exercise. What do you usually eat in a day?”

“Oh I usually just eat the foragables I find around the valley. There’s a lot of leeks and wild onions out now. I saw a weird looking berry the other day and I ate a couple of those. Sometimes I eat eggs from the chickens, or buy something from Gus for dinner.” Harvey was visibly stressed as he absorbed the information you gave him.

“I would highly advise that you eat a more balanced diet. Foraging is fine as a snack but it won’t provide enough energy for your activity levels. Eggs are good, but I’d implore you to try and eat from all the food groups”

“So this probably isn’t a great time to say I also eat the algae I find in the mines?” You’d never seen the poor doctor so stressed; you imagined most of his patients weren’t quite as odd as you.

“Let’s move on. How much sleep do you get at night?”

“6ish, sometimes less, sometimes more”

“Well, 8 hours a night is recommended but 6 isn’t terrible I suppose. But I’d encourage you to try and find a healthier routine. Farming is labor intensive and if you don’t give your body the care it needs you won’t be able to keep up sooner or later.” He had a look of genuine worry in his eyes and it pulled at your heartstrings. You’d only known each other for several months, but you sensed the beginning of a deep connection.

“I’ll try to be better,” you replied softly. You weren’t used to being chastised, but you understood he meant well.

“Thank you. You’re free to go and have an official clean bill of health from me”

“Well I stopped by to ask a favor actually”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if you’d do me the honors of being the very first taste tester of my first batch of farm fresh pickles” you grinned and gestured toward the door “I left them on the counter.” Harvey smiled back and held the door open for you.

“I’d be honored. I’m actually about to close up for the day, would you like to come upstairs?”

The two of you headed upstairs to the small apartment above the clinic. Furniture was sparse and well loved, and there was a small kitchenette off the main room. The back wall held a large bookshelf that boasted an assortment of books and some small trinkets. Another shelf was lined carefully with model planes. There was a radio station in the corner by the window. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Harvey said sheepishly.

“It’s great” you replied, eyes scanning the room with eagerness. You were itching to learn more about him. You took a seat on his small sofa, your heart nearly skipping a beat when he sat next to you, his knee inches away from yours. “You can have the first one” you offered, extending the open pickle jar toward Harvey.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Harvey reached in and plucked out a particularly large pickle before biting into it. His eyes lit up as he tasted it. “This is delicious! You’ve really never made pickles before?” You shook your head. “Well you certainly have a knack for it.” You grabbed a pickle for yourself and were pleasantly surprised at how good they were. You were glad he wasn’t lying to spare your feelings.

“What’s with the planes?” You saw Harvey get a far off look on his face while he thought about his response

“I’ve always been fascinated by aviation. I did a stint in the Air Force years ago. I wanted to become a pilot but it didn’t pan out. It ended up paying for my med school tuition though. The model planes are something I like to do in my free time. I find them relaxing, and they remind me of my time in service.”

“I would have never guessed that. Pilots and doctors are pretty different. What led you down this path?”

“I think I’ve always had an affinity for helping people. I joined the Air Force to serve my country; this feels like a way to serve the community in a different way.”

“That’s actually really selfless.” You toyed with images of Harvey in uniform as you reached for another pickle, not realizing that Harvey had the same idea. Your hands met in the rim of the jar and you flinched back instinctively. The small touch left you wanting more. You adjusted your legs slightly, tentatively letting one fall against his. Harvey made no effort to break contact.

“Tell me more about yourself. You said you explore the mines. Are there really monsters in there?”

“There are! I haven’t made it down very far but there’s all kinds of creatures down there.” You animatedly described the things you’d encountered on your adventures: colorful slimes, stealthy rock crabs, large buzzing insects, agile bats and more. Harvey looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.

His voice grew soft as he spoke “please be careful in the mines. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Suddenly it was as if a switch had gone off in his mind and he got up from the couch. “Wait here one second!” He bolted across the studio and down the stairs. You heard rummaging from below before Harvey emerged again holding an armful of various medicines and first aid supplies. “Take these.” He thrusted the bundle of supplies into your arms.

“Harvey I can’t just take these from you. These are expensive” you insisted, trying to hand them back to him. A roll of gauze unraveled on the floor. Harvey plucked it from the ground and placed it on a table.

“Nonsense. Consider it part of your checkup.” He looked you in the eyes with a pleading expression. “Please take them. And promise me you’ll keep them with you in the mines”

“I promise.”

#my writing #harvey fluff #harvey x farmer #sdv fanfic #stardew fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley fanfiction #harvey x reader

74 notes · View notes

so-long-soldier-writes · 2 months

Text

Study Buddies

isaac lahey x reader

summary: isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.

tags: high school, studying / tutoring, mutual crushes, awkward flirting, caught in a lie, shyness, embarrassment, play fighting / tickling, bad puns, confessions, first kiss, teasing, fluff, pre-wolf isaac; his dad still sucks; autistic-coded reader

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is my first time writing for teen wolf. I feel like I'm encroaching on claimed territory. 😅 also i've had this tab up for almost a week but have been afraid to post it, so here goes

Mr. Harris slides your progress report down onto your desk before you have a chance to react, and it catches wind and falls to the ground a moment later. You sigh and roll your eyes, but he’s already halfway across the room, impatiently handing out the rest of his stack. Your own little slip of paper is nowhere by your feet, and you resist the urge to make a remark about it.

“Hey.” A voice interrupts your intruding thoughts at the same time a tap lands on your shoulder. Gentle, as if the tapper hates to disturb you, yet needs your attention.

You turn, and temporarily forget about your lost report as your eyes meet Isaac’s, the boy who sits behind you, and has the cutest smile imaginable. You drop your gaze instantly, only for it to fall on his dimpled smile, and then, finally, on the paper held between two fingers.

“I think this is yours,” he says, holding it out to you.

Your name is clearly printed on the front, followed by your most recent grades in the class. You blush, immediately remembering it had dropped in the first place.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problem. He seems like he’s in a mood today.”

You nod, then take your paper from his hand. By this time, Harris has made his way back to the front, and is clearing his throat in a demand for the class’ silence. Quiet mutterings amongst friends cease at once, and you turn back to face the ill-tempered chemistry teacher.

“Take a good look at your progress reports. The midterm is coming up, and some of you have more studying to do than others. Today, we will be learning new material, but next class period, we will have a review day. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask at the appropriate time in class, or come see me after school, or shoot me an email. Regardless of your grade, everyone should be studying, however, some of you have to move up a whole letter or two. That is on you to be aware of, and for you to put in the effort to do. Now, pull out your notes so that we can cover this section. It isn’t the hardest thing we’ll cover, but I expect it will be a struggle for some.”

And after that condescending introduction, he begins to teach.

When the bell finally rings, your head is swarming with so much chemistry, your eyes are beginning to glaze over and put you to sleep. You’re relatively good at the subject, but that topic was more challenging than he warned it would be, making even you confused at times. You shake your head when you reach your lockers, trying to relieve yourself of the numbers swirling about in your mind. It takes a moment. A very stressful moment.

A tap on your shoulder, more urgent than the last, pulls you out of your mental headspace. The chemistry bounces out of your mind entirely, bringing you back to reality, but making you jump in place at the sudden contact.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice apologies, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

Turning, you come face-to-face with Isaac again. His normally bright blue eyes are slightly cloudy, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. “No worries. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I have a question, actually, to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at your report, I didn’t mean to see your grades. I accidentally saw them when I picked up your paper, but I promise I wasn’t looking on purpose.” He stalls, continuously apologizing for something not at any fault of his own.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt as politely as you can.

He pauses, “um. I was wondering if you could help me? Like, in chemistry. Help me study, kinda like a tutor, I guess?”

You pale immediately. Just because you’re doing okay in the class doesn’t mean you have a clue how to help him understand. “Um-”

“Just… I just need a little help, if you can. I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… I don’t know… are busy.” He runs his tongue along his lips nervously. You snap your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know… I’m not a good teacher.”

“But you’re really good in the class. Probably a better teacher than Harris has been lately.”

You chuckle, but you’re still not sure. Being that close to the boy you’ve liked for ages? On top of not being able to teach well? He’ll reduce you to a stupid, stuttering mess, just look at yourself now, unable to look him in the eye. No, don’t look at him, that was rhetorical.

“I just,” he continues, “when he was talking about people who needed to go up a whole letter, he was talking about me. I know you’re good, you sit in front of me. If you can even just explain it to me as you study, it would help a lot.”

Half of your mind races to find an excuse, looking for an out, while the other begs you to agree. Isaac shoves a hand in his pocket and waits for a response. You debate with yourself for a moment, but then the urging part of your mind wins the argument with a question of its own.

“What about this,” you start, “I’ll help you in chemistry, if you help me in French?”

“What?” He asks, taken off guard. “I’m not good at French.”

“You’re better than me. You have the answers to most of Ms. Morrell’s questions, and I can hear you when she asks us to recite words out loud.” His eyes narrow at that, to which you reply, “you sit behind me in French, too.”

“Right.” He smiles, but doesn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he rests his head against the locker beside yours.

“So?”

“How do you know I’m not just guessing?”

“What’s your grade?”

“A,” he sheepishly answers.

“See? You can tutor me.”

“What’s your grade?”

You purse your lips and avoid his eyes again. “Too embarrassed to say.”

“Really?”

“Languages aren’t my strong suit. We all have our strengths.”

“Alright, deal. Help me in chem, and I’ll help you with French.”

“Sounds good. Library, or at one of our houses?”

“I can probably go to the library sometimes. Maybe during lunch or free period. But after school, I have lacrosse, and you probably don’t want to wait around school for that to be over.”

“Okay, so then your house or mine?”

“Where do you live?”

“Like ten minutes from here. You?”

“A bit closer than that. Parents?”

“Don’t really care what I do.”

“My dad is a little controlling,” he admits.

“Would he care if I were to come over?”

“Not if you’re helping me study.”

“Okay. You want to meet a couple times a week at your house, and sometimes during lunch?”

“Sure. Practice ends around five. Is seven too late?”

“Not for me.”

“Cool. So, um, I’ll text you, and we can plan dates.” He shakes his head. “I mean, like, what days work best.”

You blush at his embarrassment. “Have to give you my number first, doofus.”

“Oh.”

You scribble it onto a sticky note and hand it to him. “Let me know.”

“I will. And thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You hurry your way to your next class, leaving him red in the face and hands at having a girl’s number. Granted, it’s just for studying, but it’s the fact he was able to talk to you at all that has him shaken. Isaac forces himself to breathe, before entering it in his phone and tucking the sticky safely in his backpack. As the bell rings, he hurries to his next class.

~~~~

The next evening is the first time you meet up to study. You drive to the address he’s given and knock on the door as gently as possible. Isaac had mentioned his dad is controlling, so the first thing you want to do is to avoid pissing him off in any way you could. Controlling could mean a lot of things, and the boy wasn’t specific at all. For both of your sakes, you tread lightly.

Isaac opens the door a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. You try really hard not to blush as he invites you inside, but then his dad’s strict voice snaps you back into reality. You can see Isaac take a visible deep breath before rounding the corner in the kitchen, you in tow. You put on your best look of professionalism while trying to anticipate how the next couple of minutes might go.

“And? Who was it?”

“Y/N, the girl I told you I was studying with… with whom I am going to study,” he corrects at the last minute.

His father’s posture tenses a bit less when his son corrects his own grammar without prompt, but it doesn’t stop his cold eyes from floating over to you. “And you’re studying what?”

“Chemistry, sir. I’m helping Isaac, and he’s helping me with French.”

“And you know French well enough to help her?”

“I believe I do,” he says, trying to sound confident.

“I think he does, too. In class, he always has the answers, and Mrs. Morrell’s often impressed, and she’s hard to impress more than once.”

“Hm.” His dad takes a sip from a glass, then carefully sets it down on the table. His eyes are locked on Isaac the whole time. The boy stares at the ground, any confidence shaken by the interaction. You study the scene, confused. “Well… Go study. Bring up those grades.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply at the same time.

Isaac nods for you to follow him to his room, which you oblige. His dad remains seated as you make your way up the stairs. You bite back a comment about the man, even in the safety of Isaac’s bedroom, and he doesn’t say anything, either. The same remark is in both your heads, yet while you want to ask it in a question, he wants to use it as a reassurance. Yes, he’s a bit more controlling than Isaac originally said. No, he won’t do anything stupid while you're there. He tries to convey this in an expression, which you half-understand, but eventually drop it. If anything happens, you’ll leave. Simple as that.

As it turns out, the first night of you studying together ends up nothing like the initial interaction you had in his house. Isaac is gentle, patient, and willing to learn and teach the best that he can. He’s admittedly worse in chemistry than you are in French, but you’re able to convince him that you only need to work on a few things; an hour of time doesn’t have to be devoted to your studies, maybe only twenty minutes. On the contrary, the other sixty are put towards chemistry. And, of course, the first five are for settling in, and the last five are for uncontrollable laughter at a mispronunciation.

Thirty minutes to nine, you realize how late it’s gotten and start to pack your things. Isaac looks exhausted, and frankly, as much as you’re enjoying his company, you’re getting tired from talking.

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He asks, rather quickly.

You stare for a moment, then, “what?”

“Vendredi.”

“Thursday?”

“Non.”

“Friday?”

“Oui, rencontrer?”

“Meet then?”

“Yeah, would you like to?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Say it again?”

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He says it slower this time. It has the same effect on you, but you can comprehend each word better.

“Cool,” you say, not at all thinking about his accent that paints the words so beautifully. “I’ll bring my H2O, since I forgot it this time.”

The boy snorts with more laughter. “Bad joke.”

“Absolutely horrible,” you agree. “See you in school tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.”

“Be safe,” you reply before you can stop yourself, referring to his dad downstairs.

Isaac only nods. He walks you to his front door, then hurries back up to his room.

~~~~

Each day you study together follows a similar routine to the first: five minutes to settle in, sixty of chemistry, twenty of French, then five of joking around with each other. Sometimes Isaac pushes for thirty of French instead, worried that you’re sacrificing your own studies for his, and never understands when you push back that you’re good with only twenty.

His chemistry improves immensely with your help. In three weeks, he manages to pull it up to a ‘C’. Not only is his father a bit more lenient to him after the next progress report, but he’s also more pleasant to you the next time you come around to study. He even cracks a smile.

Today, you go over just the same as you have been. Seven on the dot, you’re greeted by his dimpled smile and half-friendly father. The man has now graduated to welcoming you, and has once clapped you on the shoulder as you’ve passed. You’re polite to him, though you can tell Isaac’s uncomfortable with his unusual behavior, so you always try to retreat upstairs as soon as possible. This time, he’s busy with something in the kitchen and doesn’t talk for long. He makes one comment about grades; you promise him you’re both doing well, then he lets you go.

Finally away, it doesn’t take long for you to settle down anymore. You make yourself comfortable on Isaac’s bed, pulling out your notes and pens, and smiling when he joins you. You’ve come to be good friends in the last couple weeks, and although there’s something definitely in the air, too, you’re good with being friends if that’s all you can convince yourselves you are.

You start, per usual, with chemistry, reading over notes and figuring out problems. He moves closer and closer to you each day you teach, simultaneously making you nervous and excited. Either way, your water bottle remains beside you to calm your ever-growing heart rate. When it comes time to switch subjects, you excuse yourself a minute to recover and prepare for the next half hour. In the beginning, it was easier to hide your blush, promising you’re still getting the hang of the co-teaching thing. Now, your excuse dwindles. The shy smile you wear as he recites words of the love language has never faded. You have to compose yourself entirely, elsewhere, to be able to control your reaction and face him.

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Yeah, just over there.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Isaac jumps off the bed to check his hair in the mirror. In the process, your French binder falls to the ground and loses its page. The boy sighs, mutters an ‘oh shit,’ then pulls it back up to find the page again. He opens the flap and immediately finds a stash of old progress reports. You seem to keep all of your old ones in the front flap of your binder; he’s noticed you have all your chemistry reports, too. Curious, Isaac steals a peek. Despite confessing about his ‘D’ in chemistry, you’ve always cheekily refused to share your French grade. He doubts it’s that bad, but he’s never gotten you to admit it.

He glances at the bathroom door, then checks the date on the report before scanning the grades. Guilt eats at him the longer he looks, but nosiness, then confusion keeps his eyes glued. Is he really reading that right? There’s no way you have a-

“Sorry about that,” you say, closing the door.

Startled, he drops your binder and looks up at you. “It’s no worry.”

“What’s wrong?” You notice his change in behavior, like a young boy being caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Nothing. Your binder fell off the bed, I was picking it up.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles when you join him back on the bed. You’re not sure if you still have a right to be suspicious, or if he’s just embarrassed because he’s so shy. “So, um-”

Isaac, on the other hand, is brimming with questions. As anxious as he is that you caught him peeking, he can’t help but wonder about what he saw. You start to speak, maybe to change the subject, but he cuts you off, guilt and curiosity both winning. “You have an ‘A’ in French?”

“What?”

“You’ve had an ‘A’ since the start of the year. Why do you need me to tutor you if you already know it?”

You shut your open mouth immediately, face paling at the realization you’ve been caught. “I-... I don’t know. Your grades are better than mine.”

“By one point.”

“Two points. You have a 94. I have a 92.”

“Doesn’t explain the need for a tutor,” he argues.

You study him, choosing to base your reaction off his own. He’s smiling; seemingly happy, curious, and not at all upset. His tone implies no accusation, just confusion, and his body posture is straight, shoulders relaxed. A twinkle shines in his baby blue eyes; his level of eye contact is neither constant nor avoidant. He’s safe.

“I, um,” you decide to tell him the truth. Or, rather, stutter out the truth. “I don’t need a French tutor.”

“So I’ve gathered.” Decisive tone, yet still friendly. Still safe.

“I figured, since I would help you with chemistry, even though I’m not that good of a teacher, if you had to teach me something too, it would put less pressure on me to be a good teacher.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay… but why French?” He’s still a little confused on that reasoning, but doesn’t question it. He knows you’re shy. If that’s what you had to do to make it work that you could help him, he doesn’t mind.

“I, er, well, the French provided a win-win scenario.”

“Which is?”

You shrug, body warming quickly as you near your deeply guarded secret. “I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Mhm, really?”

“You’re best in French,” you offer instead, on a whim.

“True,” he agrees, “though I feel that’s not the real reason, judging by your lack of eye contact.”

“I’m always bad at eye contact.”

“You’ve been getting better with me these last few weeks.”

“Yes, but…”

“I’m not going to judge, Y/N. Whatever you say, it’s safe with me. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then how is me teaching you French a, as you call it, win-win scenario?”

Finally, you fess, “because I get to hear you speak it every time you teach me.”

Isaac’s quiet for a moment. Then, you realize it seems to have gone over his head as he says, “you hear me speak all the time in class.”

“Yeah, but… with twenty other voices mixed in, too. I like hearing just your voice. The way you know just how to sound it out perfectly, and the way your accent flourishes each sentence. Most people in class sound like they’re gurgling saltwater, but you make it sound hot, like the way French is supposed to sound.” Your mouth utters words before your brain can catch up and prevent you from embarrassment. As soon as you realize what you’ve said, a dizziness swarms your head and it feels like the temperature’s gone up ten degrees.

Isaac is speechless in front of you. He’s first stuck on the fact that you like his voice, then on his pronunciation being described as perfect, but then he short-circuits as the word ‘hot’ falls from your lips. He doesn’t even realize when you plant your face into your binder, shocked by your own confession.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. It’s muffled, but he hears it enough to pull him from his trance.

“You like my voice?” He asks, cursing himself for the stupidity of the question. It’s all he can think of to say, though, still trying to cool his own rising body temperature.

“I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he blurts out quickly. “I’m actually quite charmed by that.”

You resist the urge to look up at him, desperate to see if he’s smiling or not. Isaac seems to have a similar thought, and tries to hook a finger under your chin to lift your head. He succeeds, but then you instantly embarrass again, and dive for the pillows, burying your face amongst them.

“Oh no, get back here,” he jokes. You feel him before you look out to see him. His hands shake your shoulder, but when you don’t respond, he playfully starts to tickle your neck. You scrunch and try to scramble away, but he only continues. “C’mon.”

“I can’t!” The words have finally sunken into his head; the weight of them falls on your chest.

“Oh, yes you can!” He teases more, moving pillows away from you, just for you to grab another and bury back under it. When Isaac realizes there’s no use in trying to win the pillow war, he swings a leg over yours and begins to tickle your stomach. Your shirt has begun to ride up from your movement, and temporarily, he forgets you’re classmates, not longtime best friends. “C’mon, give it up!”

“I-I can’t!” You’re running out of breath, and pillows. He pulls another away from you, then puts his hands back on your sides. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but only do you open them because of the unfamiliar feeling of him touching you. A beat skips in your heart at the sudden, unexpected realization that he’s not only touching your skin, but he’s also straddling your waist. You swallow hard. He pinches your side lightly, shocking you back into reality, and making you grab another pillow to hide your face again. Before you can grasp it, Isaac grabs your hands and pins them above your head. You pant, heart racing a mile a minute. His too, as you can hear in the moment you both grow quiet.

“You think it’s hot when I speak French?”

“No, I think you’re hot when you speak French. There’s a difference.”

“Is there now?”

“The temperature of the room doesn’t get hot, it’s you that gets hot.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Not that you’re not always hot… I mean, sometimes, you’re more like a cute little puppy than a hot, French-speaking…” your words fade as your brain catches up, faster this time, yet still not fast enough.

“Am I now?”

What’s done is done, you figure. Can’t take it back now, can only admit it. “Yeah.”

“Huh. So all this time, you’ve been teaching me chemistry, and I’ve been talking pointlessly while you listen and learn nothing?”

“When you word it like that, it sounds bad.” A pout graces your lips as guilt floods you. “But I have learned some things. I was struggling with direct objects, and now I’m not.”

“Ah. So I’m not totally useless?”

“Never. You wouldn’t be useless even if I knew perfect French.” Before he can reply, you continue. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I wasted your time when we could’ve been doing more chemistry.”

“Darling, too much chemistry and my brain woulda exploded. The French lessons are a nice intermission. Besides, I wouldn’t consider any time with you as time wasted.”

“Really?”

He drops your hands and they fall back down to your waist. He seems, then, to realize he’s still on top of you, and begins to climb off. “Sorry, I-”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Can I confess something else?”

He pauses. “Sure, anything.”

“I would’ve been okay with just tutoring you chemistry, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye long enough to do it well.”

“You’ve been doing great with the eye contact thing. I know it’s not your strong suit, but you’ve made a lot of progress these last couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “It’s not only that.” A heartbeat passes. “I like you.”

“You like me?” His eyes narrow before he assumes only, “you like my voice.”

“No, I like you. I mean, yes, I like your voice, but I like it because I like you.”

“Like me, as in…”

“Like I have a crush on you.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog. “On me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I’ve never had anyone have a crush on me before,” he admits.

Now you’re confused. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know!”

“That’s stupid. Never had anyone admit it, maybe.”

“I’d never know.”

“Well I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade.”

“You moved to Beacon Hills in the seventh grade.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?”

“Very secretly.”

“Huh. Well I’ve liked you since the first day of school,” he confesses.

“I’ve liked you since orientation, so I win.”

He smiles, then shakes his head playfully. “So I sit behind you in classes for years and only finally get the courage to talk to you when I’m borderline failing chemistry, and you only get the courage to talk to me for more than one minute if you can convince me to talk half of the time that we’d be studying together.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And my portion of the talking is in French, because you think my accent is hot?”

“Your accent is always hot; your French is hot on its own.”

“Ah, I’m following now.” He chuckles, letting his fingertips grace your hips.

“So,” you ask, “as two people with several year long mutual crushes on each other, what do we do next?”

“Well you’re the one that’s been tutoring me chemistry, love, I’m hoping you have the answer.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wrong kind of chemistry, dork.” You reach your hands up to the sides of his face anyway, and pull him down for a kiss. Isaac complies immediately, setting one hand down beside you, while the other caresses your chin. Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him close until he starts to pull away, needing air. You let go, then hide your face as his own turns a rosy pink.

“That was worth the wait,” he says, smiling, and touching a finger to his recently-kissed lips. “Êtes-vous d'accord?”

“Shut up,” you tease, pushing him slightly. “Chemistry time.”

“We just had chemistry time. It’s French time now.”

“No, we can skip a round,” you insist, unsure you can hear anymore French fall from his lips without folding and kissing them again.

“On the contrary, I think you need to sharpen your vocabulary.”

“I think I’ll need a water break first.”

“That we can do,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure to get yours with extra ice.”

“Shush!”

#i feel like i'm cheating on kai #but i promise kai isn't going anywhere!!#nor are the mikaelsons - those for which i'm trying to write more #i have simply ✨ added ✨ another man to my collection #y'all i spelt his name wrong so many times writing this #have i ever mentioned i had a crush on a boy named isaac in my junior year of hs?#he was a twin #anyway #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf fanfiction

97 notes · View notes

noamm7 · 17 days

Text

the new boy

paring : peter parke (tom holland) X male reader

cw : fluff

summary : Peter introduces the school to the new boy (you) and a friendship with something more begins to blossom.

You were slowly adapting to your new life since you moved with your mother and stepfather. Today was your first day in a new school, and while you were nervous, you were also excited to meet new people and make friends. As you entered the grounds of the school, a sweet-looking boy approached you.

He was smaller than you had imagined, wearing a shirt with a Star Wars design on it, he had brown hair, and seemed timid and kinda jittery, but in a cute way.

"Hey, uh... I just wanted to welcome you... I'm Peter... Peter Parker, and I've been here since first grade, and I'm considered a good student, so... they They I was asked to show you around and stuff..." he whispers "I'm really not sure what to say"

"Hey, eh… nice to meet you Peter, my name is Y/N… and as you probably know I… am new here…" you say with a brief smile.

Peter suddenly noticed he was lost in your smile. It was so radiant and expressive, like the light of the sun had been repressed and now radiating from your face. Peter was caught off-guard and blushed for a moment before becoming stunned, unable to avert his gaze. He was then able to recover himself and continue the conversation, avoiding the awkward moment.

"Well, uh... yeah, I guess I should introduce you to the school now, right?"

"Ah, yeah, sure, I would appreciate that." Peter nodded his head in affirmation "All right, follow me, I'll show you the classrooms and other areas of the school."

As you and Peter walked around the school, you had a blast chatting about all sorts of things you had in common. You discovered that both of you loved reading and collecting comic books about superheroes, building complex Lego sets and even playing similar video games.

You could feel a spark of friendship igniting between you, and it was so nice to have someone to talk to and forge bonds with over shared interests.

✁ ..time cut..

Finally, you two arrived at the end of the tour of the school. Peter had showed you all the classrooms, hallways and areas of the school. You realized that you two shared many interests and you were feeling more and more connected. It was now time for you to part ways, at least temporarily, since both of you had to head back to class.

“Well, I guess it's a temporary goodbye... I really enjoyed showing you around... and I really liked you... I mean... meeting you... sorry...” Peter says feeling his cheeks start to heat up "Okay that's cute" Peter squints his eyes and turns even redder than he was, you laugh a little at his reaction and then continue talking "I felt the same way, thank you for taking the time to do this” You say with a brief smile "You're welcome... well I should get to class. I hope to see you later!" Peter speaks with a small smile on his face.

Before parting ways with Peter, you quickly thought of something and called him. "Hey, hey, before we part ways, do you think we could go out to explore the city this weekend? I don't know much around here, so if you could go with me and show me some fun places... if you want, of course." Peter looked at you for a moment, seemingly a little surprised, then smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, sure, it's a great idea, I'd be happy to do that." Peter answered, with a big smile.

"Perfect," you say with a smile "Then... I guess I'll see you at lunch, right?" "Yeah, of course," Peter replies, nodding his head and giving a smile "I liked getting to know you Peter." You say with a smile "You're a cool guy." Peter felt a wave of warmth and happiness wash over his mind and heart "Ah, I..." he said, becoming even more flustered "I... I say the same, it was a pleasure getting to know you too, Y/N." Peter replied, smiling and unaware of just how red he was getting.

“See you at lunch, then," you say, glancing over your shoulder with a brief wave and turning to find your class. While Peter stands there, with an infatuated smile on his face, not realizing just how red he was getting.

It was certainly set to be more than just a great friendship between these two young boys.

ac : Sorry guys this was longer than I thought 😭😭 I hope you liked it ❤️‍🩹 who knows, we might have a second part of this story…

75 notes · View notes

slayfics · 8 months

Text

We’re not Just Friends

Series featuring Muichiro, Obanai, and Reader

Your conversation with Obanai continues.

Warnings: alcohol use | mild Obanai manga spoilers

Chapter links

Chapter 6

Obanai felt his cheeks get warm again, and this time he didn’t have his bandages to hide his blush.

“You’ve just had too much sake that’s all,” he said looking away from you trying to help his flushness calm down.

“Yeah but doesn’t that mean that what I’m saying is even more true?” You stated matter of factly. “I’d be too shy to compliment you otherwise. You are an amazing Hashira and a handsome person. I’m not even sure why you're wasting your time with me,” you said, taking another sip of your sake.

“Hm? Don’t be so down on yourself, you’re a skilled swordsman yourself and it’s not like you’re ugly,” he stated.

Hu?

Did Obanai just compliment you? Not ugly means attractive right? You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks get warm at his words. One of the strongest Hashira’s was saying you’re a good swordsman?! This didn’t feel real.

“Thanks-“ you managed to mutter out. “But I wish I was as sure as you.” You said reaching your hand out and tracing his scars with your index finger.

Your sudden closeness caused Obanai to shiver. It wasn’t often he revealed his full appearance to someone much less let someone touch him.

You spoke again but softly this time, “I’m envious of you, if I was as strong as you there would be no doubt in my mind I’d be worthy of anyone.” You said continuing to trace his scars and getting closer still.

Obanai watched you curiously. Unsure of how to react. Your words invoked a deep longing in him. If only he could feel that way about himself, but you didn’t know the truth about his past. You had no idea the bloodline he was connected to. However, he couldn’t deny that your perspective of him was enticing.

Feeling drawn to him you moved closer still, allowing yourself to temporarily get lost in the moment. Obanai’s eyes widened at realizing your intent was to kiss him.

“Stop-,” Obanai said, harshly turning his face away from yours. “You’re going to regret that later,” he explained. Your forehead now resting on the side of his.

“What makes you say that?” You asked, half expecting Obanai to talk negatively about himself again and fully prepared to debunk his self-doubt. Instead, his words shook you back to your senses.

“You love Tokito,” he said simply.

Feeling immensely embarrassed, you backed away from Obanai immediately.

“I’m sorry-“ you began to say but Obanai interjected.

“Don’t- I know you’ve had a hard day,” he said, still turned away from you. However, you could have sworn there was a faint blush on his cheeks again.

You looked down at the table feeling your head spin. Everything just felt so confusing. You’d adored Muichiro for the longest time but he didn’t seem to share the same affection you did. Now you were sitting here hearing the words you wish Muichiro had told you come from someone else.

Why couldn’t Muichiro have told you ‘you’re not ugly’ and ‘you’re a skilled swordsman’. Instead, now you felt flustered by another Hashira’s words. The confusion you felt began to cause your head to pound. You rested your head on the table and tried to take deep breaths. Hoping to uncover how you really felt.

“Everything will feel better tomorrow I promise,” Obanai said gently patting your back. “I should probably get some rest, there’s a Hashira meeting early tomorrow.” Obanai waited for a response from you but none came. He then realized you had fallen asleep at the table. Letting out a heavy sigh he removed his haori and placed it over you.

Amazing art by @valartsstuff

Tags~

@sakurasunkiss @aeolia18 @unofficialmuilover @demonslayeranimex @yandere-kouhai @snowmist-hashira @jellyedkazoo @sixxze

117 notes · View notes

hijackalx · 5 months

Text

FORLORN +18

SUMMARY: Gortash attempts to fill the void you left with your changeling kin.

WORD COUNT: 3020

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, dark urge reader, gortash fucks orin in your shape, lowkey angsty, dom!gortash, brat!orin, they dont like each other, stripping, blindfolding, cowgirl, choking, gortash keeps his clothes on, experimental with POVs lol

Enver swirls the scarce amount of liquor around in his glass, staring at his warped reflection inside.

His reach falters after glancing over at the bottle on his desk, realizing that it has just a few measly drops remaining. He huffs, slumping deeper into his seat. The hand resting in his disheveled hair falls down his face, tugging at his flushed cheeks.

You've been gone for a month now. Orin told him that she hurt you— that she did something terrible. The details of the event are lost on him, as she won't even spare as much as the exact time it happened.

He supposes that's for the best, otherwise he'd find ways to blame himself worse than he already does. He should've kept Orin away from you, he should've seen the signs.

But he didn't. And now you're gone.

In his grief, images of you in his mind satiate him temporarily; how you'd laugh at his jokes with blood lacing your teeth, how you'd dance for him in the viscera of your victims. His dearest remembrance may be the way you always clung to him, glued to his side like an attack dog awaiting its next order. You were so eager to please, just as he was eager to reward you.

As per usual, these images gradually spiral into something more risqué, a haunting reminder of how deeply your connection had evolved just before you disappeared. A memory of you responding coyly to his praise turns into you looking desperate and pliant beneath him. An accidental graze of your hand turns into you scratching and tearing at his skin while he has his way with you. He reaches over his shoulder to grace one of the affected areas, making note of how much it's healed, taking any traces of you with it in the process.

More importantly, he recalls the way his hands felt on your body. The rough, warmth of his palms knew every inch of your skin, though it seems nowadays their memory grows hazy. He can't forget, and he'll take whatever measures he has to in preventing that.

Even if those measures in-dignify him like no other, he'll do it— for you.

He stares at the button on his desk with reluctance. A pit opens up in his stomach as a hesitant finger hovers over it. Gods, has he drank too much? Or is he going to be sick with humiliation?

He clears his throat, preparing to maintain a steady impression of sobriety.

"... Somebody locate and escort Orin to my office."

He wonders if they've caught on to what that means by now. The thought is brief as he shoos it away like a burdensome fly, his chair creaking while he sinks into it once again.

It isn't long before the doors open. Orin enters the office accompanied by a Steel Watcher, the machine following her close behind.

She smugly approaches his desk, a conquering grin on her face that he'd like to wipe off with methods he shouldn't say aloud.

The Steel Watcher turns on its heels, taking a few heavy steps before leaving them in the quiet of the room.

Alone.

Enver downs the last of his drink in one, quick motion. His dark eyes follow Orin's figure, though they almost seem to look right through her.

She circles him like a vulture, her hand trailing over his arm. "Well," she starts, her voice as theatric and ear-piercing as always. "I do hope you have something different in mind for today, little lord."

His lips hold a tight line, his gaze fixing on the scattered papers atop his desk. "Change," he demands.

Orin huffs exasperatedly from behind his chair. "Agh! Again with the pouting and moping—!" her voice warps mid-sentence, carrying a familiar lilt that makes his heart skip a beat. "— you're no less of a sorry excuse for a tyrant than when I was around to see it."

His head turns quickly as she comes back into view, no longer herself, but you. He swallows harshly, his mouth parting as he gazes upon your dearly missed features.

It's like you're really there— as long as he avoids your eyes, that is. She can never get them quite right, and they pull him out of his fantasy like a sucker punch.

He reaches out for you, his plated grasp cooly caressing your wrist. Flipping your hand, he runs his thumb over your palm, admiring every line and crevice. How often he tended to the wounds gifted by your own fits of violence, how often he'd kissed your blood-stained fingertips.

Orin sneers and roughly jerks herself away. "Cease your bleeding heart," she hisses. "Lest I rip it out."

She laughs in his face cruelly, relishing in the idea of clawing through his chest and pulling the blood-pumping organ from its chamber.

He shakes off the surprise from being slung back into reality so coarsely. With grit teeth, he catches her by her forearm and yanks her face just inches from his. "Behave, or I will do away with you like any other useless object."

Stunned, her irises dart back and forth between his, her features contorting into a mixture of fear and submission. Through frowned lips, she utters with a shaky breath, "... you'd really do that to me?"

For a moment, her disguise is all too convincing, and he finds himself instantly regretting his loss of temper.

Orin's trickery becomes obvious as she bursts into another fit of maniacal laughter. "You're weak, little lord! Oh, how I wish to carve your expression into your face so you might carry it forever!"

Enver slouches, his fingers massaging his temple while she prattles on. How much of this is really worth it? He gets to see you again, but not without paying the price of mental torment.

"Every second they're gone, you soften like the flesh of a babe!"

A deep exhale leaves his nose. "I've changed my mind. Away with you." He waves her off dismissively. He supposes he'll just have to find you in the dark room of a brothel instead.

Her cackling ceases, the split corners of her mouth falling. She appears to contemplate for a moment before dropping to her knees. "No, no," she begs, crawling closer so she can lay her head in his lap. "I'll be good."

He stares down at her with little regard— at how she looks up at him with a hint of desperation. She's in character again, but for how long? He's had enough of her games.

Just as he's about to double down, she speaks once more, "You know I can be good—" her lips pull into a convincing smile, sly and quick. "—Enver."

The sound of you speaking his name again is so much sweeter than anything his imagination could ever conjure. It grabs him by the jaw, paralyzing him.

He becomes heavily fixated on how your fingers tease at his inner thigh, the digits so delicate and nimble; how they wander so endearingly with their faux innocence. His breaths heighten, the tendons in his hand becoming prominent as he flexes it to maintain composure.

She lifts her head as he cups her cheek. Her look of triumph is ripped away when his slithering hand burrows into her hair and yanks, angling her head upward. She responds with a glare and a scowl.

Slowly, he leans closer, anticipation looming in the air before he speaks. "Undress," he orders, the alcohol on his breath filling her flared nostrils.

After she's released, she takes stance just outside the parting of his knees. Holding the intensity of his gaze, she reaches for the buttons of your blouse. She knows the drill— strip for him, nice and slow. It's the same every time.

Once she undoes the final button, she lets the soft fabric slip down your shoulders, revealing your supple breasts. He stares from under his brow as she runs her hands over them, using her thumb to play with your nipple.

Letting the shirt fall to the floor, she moves on to your pants. They wriggle off of your hips, revealing silky, touchable skin.

He runs his tongue over his lip as she sneaks a finger under the hem of your panties, letting them snap back against your body teasingly.

A warning glance is sent her way as she takes double the time removing the final garment. She rolls her eyes, dropping them to the floor with the rest of your clothing.

His chest rises with a slow, deep breath, reveling in the sight of you; how badly he wishes it weren't a facade.

As she approaches him, his lustful gaze follows your figure from the bottom up. Once he reaches your eyes, he stops there, lingering. His expression becomes rigid, and he puts out a hand to stop her from climbing onto him.

She leers at him with an already-knowing stare, then scoffs before wandering off towards his bedroom.

"Such a demanding, scrutinizing little bastard," she can be heard mumbling in the distance, distaste on her tongue.

When she returns, she has a black piece of fabric in her palms. She offers it to him, and he raises it to her face. It covers her eyes, blinding her once he ties a knot at the back of her head.

He's almost taken aback as he looks her over again— now, without traces of Orin in your gaze, he sees you.

You're finally allowed access to his lap. Although, your face has tensed, a deepness to your brow. "I make no mistakes. Any imperfections you notice are merely a reflection of your own sickly, deteriorating mind." You cradle him, letting his hands run over your body. "Perhaps you'd like me to take a look inside and fix that for you."

He ignores the words spoken under the guise of your voice, instead focusing on how your skin feels in his grasp once again. It's so warm and soft, so impossibly smooth. His fingertips trace over your beauty marks and scars as if to ensure they're where he remembers.

One of his bare fingers runs through the folds of your cunt, reinforcing the memories of its wet, velvety touch. His cock twitches, recalling how you'd tighten while you came— how he'd pump you full of his own cum time and time again.

Impatient, you grind down on his hard-on, and he responds with a sharp inhale. You continue the motion, getting off on how he feels through his pants.

He rakes in his bottom lip as he watches your lower half stir. His burly hands find purchase on your hips, the golden points on his fingers threatening to draw blood.

Unable to put it off any longer, he frees his cock from his boxers, giving himself a few pumps with his hand while ogling your figure. He uses his thumb to bring precum to your lips, which you clean off with your tongue.

An anticipatory groan erupts deep in his throat as he adjusts himself so that you can take him in.

Since you can no longer see, you rely on him to guide you onto his length. He's so large and difficult to accommodate— that was something you always struggled with.

He lolls his head back as his tip breaches your entrance, your pillowy walls satiating the hunger in him that'd been brewing so deep.

A few moments pass and he's able to sink into you a bit further. He knows it aches as it forces your legs wider apart, but he loves that you try. You've always tried for him.

A shuddering exhale leaves his lips as you begin to move, gripping his forearms while he steadies you by your waist. His hold is secure, yet an underlying buzz of anxiousness hides within it.

You let out sounds of slight discomfort as he stretches you out. His hand lifts to comfort you, but it quickly retracts before making contact. He had almost forgotten that you are not you.

His face hardens at the realization, a sudden wave of hatred and anger rattling his bones. It's Orin's fault you're not here, why's he wasting his time being gentle with her?

With a curl to his lip, his gold fingertips latch onto her, and he forces her the rest of the way down. She yowls, a pained arch in her back.

In a quick act of retaliation, she smacks him across the face. The noise reverberates through the room's tall ceilings, followed by silence. He turns to look at her again, a red mark beginning to taint his cheek.

"I will hang you from the rafters by your own intestines!" She shrieks at him, her nails digging into his exposed chest. Leaning close to his ear, she hisses, "I may look like your spineless little whore, but I can assure you our similarities are few and far between—!"

Her sentence is cut off as a hand wraps around her throat, pushing on her esophagus with increasing pressure. She chokes, pulling at his decorated fingers to no avail.

"If I hear you utter such disrespect again, I'll see to it that you're rendered unrecognizable and scattered throughout the trenches of this city," he threatens lowly and quick, a snarl on his face while he watches her squirm.

He can practically see his threat playing out in her mind like some sick fantasy. The corners of her mouth twitch before spreading into an uncontrollable smile. "Quite... the Lothario... tyrant boy," she pushes a moan past his grip that evolves into excited laughter.

His hold loosens as she begins to move up and down his length once more. Her jaw— your jaw— falls slack as you take pleasure from him filling you up. He finds himself captivated by how your cunt strains around him, leaving a creamy residue behind.

"Fuck," he mutters defeatedly, feeling himself weaken by the second. For as long as she looks like you, she has the upper hand.

Once the strength of his chokehold wavers, he allows you to take his hand and touch yourself with it, guiding it over your breasts and waist. Your hands contrast heavily; he's quite fond of how dainty yours look in comparison.

His touch settles at your hips, fastening you in his grasp as he begins to fuck you from beneath. He stares up at your partially covered face as you bounce in his lap, watching how each sound you make leaves your mouth.

He starts to feel that familiar anxiousness once again— he needs more control, he needs to dominate. In one swift movement, he picks you up and lays you over the documents on his desk, scattering most of them to the floor.

He directs your thighs around his torso, spreading you open further. Your back arches as he bottoms out in one quick thrust, the hair at his base brushing against you.

With one hand he secures your wrists above your head, then balances himself with the other. The jewelry lacing his clothing clatters as he slams into you repeatedly, a throaty moan leaving his lips.

There's a sense of deprivation to him, so much so that it drips from his every movement, every touch, every sound. He starves like a lowly stray, and you've always been the only hand he won't bite.

You begin to glow with a sheen of sweat, though he refrains from tasting the salt on your skin. The harsh reality of your condition hangs in the back of his mind, and he worries that even a grain of intimacy will enable it to come forward. Despite how badly he wishes to kiss your lips and bruise your neck, he just can't.

He moans as his body grows tense, his pace losing its consistent rhythm. His cheeks are flushed, a haziness to his gaze as he grips your wrists tighter, leaving marks behind.

With bared teeth, his eyes screw shut. He reaches his climax, and you let out soft whimpers as he rams into you with a few final hard thrusts. In just seconds, hot, thick cum stains your walls and threatens to leak onto the desk.

His head hangs wearily as he catches his breath, allowing himself to come down from his high. He looks you over— how you lay, unmoving and quiet. Something that can only be described as remorse twists in his stomach, though it's not unfamiliar in this circumstance.

Then, there's silence. It infects the atmosphere of the office, bordering on unsettling.

He exhales, running his fingers through the hair sticking to his forehead. Pulling out of you, he begins the process of recomposing himself. While adjusting his pants, he notices your body writhing and twitching in his peripheral.

Every trace of your likeness slowly withers away, transforming you back into your true form— Orin.

She lifts the blindfold from her eyes, a terribly wide grin on her black lips. She sits up on the desk, taking delight in the slight horror on his features. "How could I ever tire of that look?" she hums.

With a thick swallow, his expression contorts into anger. He observes the mess they've made— the paperwork strung all over the floor, the spilled ink dripping from its canister. "Get out." A crease forms between his brows as he starts gathering documents.

She lingers a moment longer, swinging her crossed legs as they hang off the edge.

Her lack of urgency is enough to make the already-taut rage in him snap. "GET OUT!" he shouts in her face, the papers in his hand crinkling under his unforgiving grip.

She hops onto the floor, her hands folded behind her back as she stares up into his glower. The tension grows between them like an unsightly weed while neither shies away.

As if in thought, her mouth parts before she finally speaks, "... I'll see you again soon, lordling."

Shortly after that, she turns to leave, his eyes following.

Her words ring in his ears, causing his upright shoulders to sink. His hand pulls on the lower half of his face defeatedly, a loud sigh escaping his nose.

#this was extremely difficult to write and got way longer than i was going to make it lol it was supposed to be a drabble #the POVs were beating my ass please clap even if it sucks. ill take a pity clap #enver gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #orin the red #the dark urge #enver gortash x dark urge #gortash x orin #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash x tav

129 notes · View notes

ladykibutsuji · 10 months

Text

If you can't, who will?

Obanai Iguro x Reader

Angst: Unrequited love with a twist~

Normal Timeline

I don't own the pictures used!

February 14th

I'm not a big fan of February.

'Day of Romance' they say but for me it's a day of torture.

Watching other people love each other as I stare enviously.

How unfair is that?

“Y/N~ The chocolates are ready”

You snapped out your thoughts as shinobu called out for you, she and Aoi helped you with making Valentine's chocolate since you informed shinobu about wanting to give someone a chocolate for valentine's

You walked towards her and Aoi staring at the chocolates that the 3 of you made together, although shinobu was a very busy person she decided to make time for valentine's.

Shinobu took a piece of chocolate and placed it Infront of your mouth "Say ahh~", You opened your mouth as shinobu gently put the chocolate in your mouth. The chocolate slowly melted in your tongue and you could taste how delicious it was, "This is so good and delicious thank you for helping me Shinobu and Aoi" you hummed.

Aoi gave you a smile while shinobu patted your head "My, my there's no need to thank me..Friends are always there for each other aren't they?" Shinobu paused for a while until something a random question in her thoughts "Now come to think of it you never told us about the person you will give it to I wonder who is it? Mind telling us Y/N?"

The moment you heard shinobu's question you immediately froze on spot while Aoi temporarily stopped baking since she was also curious about the answer you will provide, They stared at you with curiousity and you are just continuously sweating deciding whether you should tell them or not.

The room was too quiet because you are refusing to answer so shinobu jumped to conclusions as she gasped "Don't Tell me it's Tomioka!" You just shook your head denying her assumption as you grabbed a box full of chocolate and excusing yourself to leave "Sorry Shinobu! I'll be back soon I- uh I'm not feeling well"

"If you are not feeling well I could always he-"

"NO THANKS!"

You dashed out the door leaving both shinobu and Aoi stunned, "Wait Ms. Y/N!" Aoi tried to call you but you are already running away and far. To them you are a pretty calm person so they are shocked and surprised to see you acting that way. Shinobu and Aoi just stared at each other laughing the situation off "Y/N is really a mysterious person isn't she? I'm still wondering who's the lucky guy though.."

STOMP STOMP

You kept on running and running until the butterfly mansion is out of view, you are too embarrassed to face them nor even answer the question shinobu asked

After all, they knew about Iguro's love for mitsuri

Some things are better to be kept.

BUMP

You accidentally bumped into someone and was about to fall down to the floor until someone caught your arms on time

"I'm sorry! I wasn't looking! A-" you were about to say something until you suddenly realized who it was

It was no other than the guy who stole your heart

But never being able to return it.

"Iguro!" You quickly got on your feet as you slightly bowed to him apologizing for accidentally running into him, "Keep your head up Y/N, It's fine."

You slightly blushed just by hearing his Voice, who wouldn't? he's hot

You then thought about the box of chocolate resting in your hand and since he was already here you might aswell just give him the chocolate and confess your feelings for him that is bottled up for years.

Though it was clear to you that he likes someone else

But taking the risk is not bad is it?

"It's been a while Iguro..I-" You are so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice him walking away "eh?" You are a bit confused at first since he was fast then you shook your head and raised your voice loud enough for him to hear you "Wait Iguro!", Iguro continued walking as if you didn't called out for him "I'm busy."

"But it's important!" After hearing the word 'Important' he stopped walking. as much as he doesn't want to waste his time because he have a date with mitsuri He decided to hear you out "Make it quick, I still have to go to Kocho's mansion to retrieve my forgotten item and a schedule to attend."

You then took out a letter from your pockets and placed it on top of the box of chocolate that you are going to give him and slowly walked towards him

"This is for you.." You said shyly as you handed him the box of chocolate with the letter, he stared at you with disgust before taking the chocolate and letter you gave him

"What's this for?" He asked as kaburamaru tried to get closer to the chocolate, you gave kaburamaru a head pat that he seems to have enjoy "For valentine's" you responded.

"Get your filthy hands off kaburamaru." You were a bit taken aback by his words since before he really didn't mind you petting kaburamaru infact he even lets you have kaburamaru on your neck for days "Oh I'm sorry.." After you stopped petting kaburamaru he was upset and hissed at Iguro

"and about the letter... it's about what I feel for you for these past fe-"

"I don't have time to listen to your non-sense."

He dropped the chocolate box as he ripped the letter apart leaving you flabbergasted, "Weakness disgust me in other words YOU disgust me. You are just a kinoe so stop talking to me so casually." Even kaburamaru was shock that he had had wide eyes

But why? I was there for you when you had nothing

"I see... I'm sorry for bothering you."

"You should be, I'm only accepting letters and chocolate from mitsuri so if you don't mind I'll be taking my leave." You gave him a slight nod with a smile and before Iguro was about to leave he gave you his final rejection words "I can't love someone who's as weak as you." He then disappeared while you are still standing at the same spot where the man you love and admired for years rejected you worse is that he even bad mouthed you.

You are holding back tears while a million thoughts raced in your head

Was I ever enough?

But why I was there??

I was the one who helped you escape

FLASHBACK:

"this flower reminds me of you! It's so pretty"

"You think I'm Pretty?" You asked as he nodded happily, he placed the flowers in your hair as you return him a gentle smile, Iguro sticking his arms out of his cage is easier due to the fact of how big the gap is and he was skinny at the time

"give him that food"

You and Iguro could hear distance noises which mean someone is about to come at Iguro's cage so you quickly had to leave before the both of you get caught

"I'm sorry Iguro, I'll be back I promise.."

"Wait before you go!" He held your hand tightly from the behind his cage as he looked at you looking a little shy

"If we ever get out of this hell... Promise me that we will get married someday"

"I promise"

"Hello Y/N, how are you?"

Hearing a familiar voice you snapped out of your own thoughts from the past and stared at the man who is now in front of you

The man Infront of you is Giyuu tomioka, The water hashira himself.

"Oh Tomioka!" You slightly bowed greeting him "Are you going to Shinobu?"

"Yes but since you are also here, I have something for you"

He then pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from the bag he is holding and handed them to you, at first you are shock that he would give you something like that so you had your hand on your mouth

"is this really okay?" You asked before taking the flowers, "Yes, it's for you"

With your delusional brain you thought that he had a crush on you or this was his way of saying "I like you" so you slightly blushed at the thought and was happy that after all these years someone is able to love you

Oh boy how wrong you are

"Tanjiro told me I should give these to the other hashira to make friends"

Oh.

"But I'm a kinoe?" You tilted your head in confusion while holding the flowers he just gave you, Giyuu stared at you for a while before answering "I know but I acknowledge your strength so I'm giving you one." He gently patted your head before walking away not noticing the smile he had on his face

However his words aren't useful

You still thought to yourself that you are nothing but a weak human being

After all if you are really strong you could of have been a hashira yeah? But you are just a kinoe.

A useless one

Would anyone really love such a weak person like you?

Can anyone love someone like you?

Back at your estate, you are just in your garden sulking even your crow is concerned

Earlier, Kyojuro came to visit you to greet you a "happy valentine's" and gave you delicious desserts but you ignored him so he was sad and he left your estate with a broken heart

Poor kyojuro:(

"Y/N! Y/N! Are you dead?"

You have been sulking for hours and not moving a muscle that your crow assumed you died on spot

KNOCK KNOCK

"Y/N! Someone is at the door!"

You Ignored the noises and continued sulking so your crow had no other choice but to get the door itself "If this continued you might as well get eaten by a demon!" The crow hurried to the door

You pulled your knees to your chest as you buried your own face onto it tears started to form.

"I was there, I was the one who accepted him ever since we were kids.." you said to yourself as millions of thoughts continued raging in your head

"if he can't love me..who will?"

"I will"

You flinched at the response you weren't expecting and turned around only to find mitsuri with a bouquet of flowers, chocolate, and a wrapped gift with your crow on her shoulder

"Mitsuri! I didn't expect you to visit all of the sudden" you wiped off the tears in your eyes and fixed your hair that is a bit messy because of the wind "I'm sorry if you have to see me like this"

"she won't stop sulking for hours! I told you she's crazy I'm leaving her to you!" The crow then flied far away from both you and mitsuri

"see you like what? I don't get what you are talking about your face is still shining as bright" she approached you closer and sat Infront of you after she sat Infront of you she tucked your hair behind your ears as her eyes stared deeply into yours "Your beauty is really incomparable"

What's the meaning of this?

Flattered by her words you couldn't find the right words to say "a-aren't you supposed to be on a date with aguro? I mean oguro? No.. Obama!" You are too much of a mess to say Iguro's name right

Mitsuri let out a light hearted laugh upon seeing your reaction that she thinks it's adorable "Well..I didn't really think that it was a date I thought we were only hanging out as friends until he told me confessed about his feelings for me..." She paused for a little smiling at you "But of course I rejected him because I want you!"

This isn't right

"Aren't we both women?" You asked nervously, mitsuri put her finger on your lips as a signal of 'Shush' "So what now if we are both women? It's not a crime to love each other"

"but what about Iguro?" A question after a question though mitsuri doesn't mind answering all of your questions even if it seems like there is no end to your questions "He doesn't matter now does he?"

She said that as if it was a normal thing, "Anyways! I'm excited for you to open this gift of mine! Open it" mitsuri handed you her gift and this made you curious of what's inside so you unwrapped it slowly trying not to damage what's inside.

After unwrapping it you found a tulip hairpin inside of it and it was stunning "This is really pretty mitsuri! Thank you" you gave her a warm smile while hugging her which made mitsuri die in happiness

Mitsuri was delighted that you appreciated her gift so she returned the hug by embracing you more tightly! She almost crushed you to death btw

After pulling away from the hug mitsuri asked you if she could put the hairpin on your hair to which you agreed to, she then gently placed the hairpin on your preferred spot

"do you wanna know why I choosed a tulip hairpin?" She asked while she's still fixing your hair, "why?"

"it's to represent my deep love for you!" She stated with a big smile on her face, to be honest you really don't know what to feel because you didn't expect for a Woman (Especially mitsuri) to take a liking to you but then again you decided to give mitsuri a chance because like she said 'Gender doesn't matter as long as the both of you truly love each other'

"I know you are confused right now Y/N but my love for you is real and I'm not expecting you to reciprocate it I just wanted you to know" her words caught you off guard "I also want you to know that if nobody can settle down with you I will!"

After iguro's harsh words you no longer feel bad about yourself thanks to mitsuri, you are about to say something until she spoke first

"I have a question for you Y/N"

"Yes?"

"Can I court you?"

The choice is yours Reader.

Happy pride month everybody!

• I'm aware that in this fanfiction the events occurred on February but in the real world it's June which is pride month!

• since it's pride month I'll reveal my sexuality to my lovely followers

• I'm actually bisexual though I mostly date women rather than men.

• Thank you so much for the people who reads my fanfictions! No words can express on how thankful I am for those who supports me<3

#demon slayer #fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #mitsuri kanroji #obanai iguro #kny iguro #kimetsu no yaiba iguro #demon slayer iguro #iguro x reader #mitsuri x iguro #mitsuri fluff #kny kanroji #demon slayer kanroji #kimetsu no yaiba obanai #obanai x you #unrequited love

235 notes · View notes

nicestgirlonline · 1 year

Text

Steal My Sunshine

Pairing: FEDRA!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: noncon elements, abuse of authority, forced relationship DNI if you find these upsetting!

Summary: In the dark, dismal post apocalyptic world, you made the mistake of being a bright spot in Sergeant Barnes's day...

@the-slumberparty Genre's Old and New Warm-Up: Here’s my genre generator warm up and my first entry for the Slumber Party! I got Horror and Authority Figure! I’ve been obsessed with The Last of Us so I decided to go with TLOU themed AU! Very loosely related, no fast fungus zombies in this one. Very excited for the slumber party, can’t wait to hear what you think!

Word count: did my best to try and keep it under 1k since it's just a warm-up, coming in at a cool 1610 words oops

This the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr since high school (yikes) so I’d really love some feedback!

Enjoy!

“Good morning Sergeant Barnes, ” she said to him with a big smile. It felt so foreign, so antiquated. No one had a good morning in QZ. Sergeant Barnes was awestruck. The line for work assignments was a shit rotation for FEDRA soldiers, he was placed there temporarily after a violent encounter with some civilians. Riding the fucking desk for three weeks before he could go back to enforcement duties.

But when She showed up in line, it was like he was seeing the sun for the first time. She glowed, with beauty and goodness. He wanted to sit and bask in her warmth forever. He was lost in his mind, She stood awkwardly in line, shifting from side to side hoping to hurry him along.

“Uh, good morning. Sorry, what were you looking for?” Realizing he was staring at her, he glanced down at his ledger of jobs they needed bodies for.

“Are there any street cleaning jobs left?” She asked so sweetly Bucky thought he’d cry. The only jobs that were open were all disgusting, body disposal, sewer work, scrap collection. A woman like her shouldn’t be doing such filthy work.

“We have an opening at City Hall. Clerk work. Pays well.”

“Oh, I’ve never done clerk work before um, will I need any training?” She placed her hand over her mouth to cover her surprise but Bucky could see right through that. She was so pleased, that he had gotten her the job. He quickly erased a few things, sorry Citizen Abernathy, he was no longer getting into city hall. She handed him her citizenship papers, he gripped them like they were precious jewels. He memorized her name, her address, her previous jobs. Most importantly, where his eyes went first, Marital status: single

With a bit of a spring in her step she left the line, all her official work assignments clutched to her chest. Bucky couldn’t help but watch her as she left. Her little skip made her ass jiggle, he grinned to himself. The next citizen in line cleared their throat. The older woman glared at him for his lewd behavior. His mouth returned to its usual scowl. This was the world he was used to. No sunshine in here.

+++

Street patrols with Steve were usually just a lot of bullshitting. Steve and Bucky would stroll together, recounting old war stories with clickers or encounters with the Fireflies. There were hardly any domestic disturbances here, the Fireflies little resistance movement had all been stomped out thanks largely in part to the two of them. Their unit had been deep in the shit at the Manhattan QZ before being moved to Pittsburgh QZ to set it straight. Now that things had been smoothed out it was the most depressing place they could’ve been reassigned to.

“Better than Boston,” Steve would always say that made Bucky roll his eyes. He wasn’t wrong though. The two were walking along the repaved main street, walking past the long lines for rations at the local store. Bucky looked at all the glum, resigned faces. This was the world they all lived in now. What was the point of keeping this world safe if this was all they would have?

But then, like the sun peaking out from behind gray clouds, he saw Her. His Sunshine!

She was leaving the store with a large paper bag, almost skipping again. She had a smile on her face again. He could see himself, walking arm and arm with his sunshine, bringing food home for dinner. He would hold her close and whisper all the things he’d do to her once they got back. She would shyly bat her eyelashes, so embarrassed by his lusty proposals in public. His heart began to swell. Part of him knew it was strange, he had barely spoken to this girl, yet a fiery passion consumed him. It had been years of nothing but violence and fighting for him. Sometimes he barely felt human himself, but she made him feel alive again.

“...could hardly believe the size of this one, barely even human just a face, and the rest was fungus covering the floor. Buck? You listening to me Buck?” Steve elbowed his friend who was lost in his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. Sounds real gnarly.” He brushed his friend off, he headed straight towards his Sunshine. “That citizen looks suspicious to you? I think we need a random search.” Steve just raised an eyebrow and followed his partner, happy to have a little action on the usual boring patrol.

+++

Your week-long stint at City Hall had given you extra spending money for the first time since you could remember. You couldn’t help but walk with a little bounce in your step, what crazy luck you’d had.

Two Fedra soldiers, both in full tactical gear, machine guns strapped to their sides were approaching you. You froze in place as their steel-toed boots stopped directly in front of you.

“Excuse me, citizens.” The soldier’s timbre was low and serious. You were not a troublemaker, you only ever had contraband at parties never actually on your person.

“I-Is there a problem?” You asked as sweetly as you could. You met the icy blue eyes of the officer who smirked. You looked down at the name on his chest, Sergeant Barnes? From work assignment? One hand on his gun still, he reached out the other hand towards you.

“Identification please.” He requested. You placed down your bag of food only for the other soldier to snatch it up. You reached for your purse and pulled out your citizenship card. Barnes grabbed it with a flourish.

“Hey!” You cried out as the blond one started to go through your food for the week, a can of beans falling to cobblestones and denting.

“Random checkpoint. You’re not resisting us are you?” He asked, his tone dripping with smug victory. You bunched your hands into fists trying to stay calm.

“Officers, please what’s wrong?” Sergeant Barnes chuckled. He went to hand you back your ID but pulled it away in the second from your grasp.

“There have been a couple of red flags on your paperwork. We are just doing our due diligence to keep the QZ safe. Now, I’m sorry ma’am but I’m going to need you to come with me.” He grabbed you by the arm, his partner still holding onto your groceries. He pulled you off into an alleyway where he slammed you roughly against the brick building. You winced and went to grab the back of your head as sharp pain began to bloom.

“There must be a mistake I-I haven’t done anything.” Tears began to blot your eyes. You raked your brain trying to think of what could have caused a red flag. You had smoked weed once at a party, which wasn’t even a Firefly party as far as you knew, you kept out of trouble.

Barnes began to nuzzle the side of your face, his nose tracing along your cheek to your hair. He deeply inhaled, the sudden air tickling your ears.

“I know Sunshine, I know, you're a good girl aren’t you.” He breathed. Your blood froze in your veins. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the wall above your head. “There are a few red flags though. Like, your marital status is single. No boyfriend then? Why would a beautiful young woman be all alone, at the end of the world? Unless you’re too focused on revolutionary activities to find a man.” He wasn’t making any sense. You weren’t a rebel, you were just a poor street cleaner, you didn’t have a black mark on your record, you didn’t even have messages to send out to the other QZs. You feared you knew his true intentions.

“Sergeant Barnes --”

“Call me Bucky.” He gave you a wink that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Bucky, I don’t have a boyfriend but not because I’m a Firefly. I-If you let me go I swear you’ll never see me again, I’ll be so straight and narrow I’ll be invisible, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t think you understand Sunshine. The last thing I want is to never see you again.” That was what you had feared. “You see, it's not me that’s suspicious of you angel, it's my partner back there. So how about I give you hand here.”

His hand slipped down and groped at your breasts, your breath hitched in your throat as you suppressed a whine. Bucky looked deliriously happy. He looked into your eyes and you were frightened at how intense they were.

“How about you and I start going together, much less suspicious for a woman to be dating an officer of the law. You wouldn’t have a moral objection to that right?”

You nodded your head. What else could you do? His eyes sparked with excitement as you agreed to his bargain.

“Why not have our first date right now, since you’re free.” He began to fiddle with his belt and you squeezed your eyes shut so he wouldn’t be able to see your tears.

You thought there was no way life could get worse since the outbreak. You were wrong. Your fate has been sealed the moment you smiled at this deranged, lonely man.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #the last of us #the last of us au #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark fic #the slumber party warm up #one shot #drabble #forced relationship #non con elements #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan

344 notes · View notes