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#that’s…that’s what I persisted and fought for.
tojancy · 25 days
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while satoru is good at nearly everything he does, he’s sure he's not so good at disciplining his child. not as good as he originally thought he was, at least.
“daddyyy,” his little girl drags out, pulling at the fabric of his pants. “please, mommy won’t know.”
satoru sighs, white eyebrows creased and creating a wrinkle in the space between. how you put up with this nearly daily he doesn’t know.
“you wanna lie to mommy? but that’s gonna break her heart, no?” he’s trying, he swears he’s trying. but how can he say no? this is his princess, his spoiled, lovely girl that he loves so much. how can he possibly say no?
“but— how- how will she be sad if she doesn’t know?”
right. persistent as she is, at least his daughter is smart.
the white haired man stands, inhaling an exaggerated breath. if he wasn’t aware of the consequences, satoru would have long given his daughter that one more ice cream.
“please, daddy,” she goes at it again, looking up at him with eyes that match yours. so hard to resist. it’s a trait he curses you for passing to her. “i’ll go to bed early, promise!”
early? yeah, right. it’s already an hour and a half past her bedtime. satoru is so glad you’re too busy to call.
with one last sigh, his long arms reach down for the girl in pony-patterned pajamas. his grip is tight as to not drop her, all the while thinking of a compromise.
satoru gojo has fought off too many enemies, none of which came to par compared to how much they bragged. but for once, he truly finds himself in a dilemma; to give up, or not to give up.
“how about a gummy bear?” he tempts, albeit a lot... smaller than what she had in mind.
his daughter gasps. “you have gummy bears?”
“of course i do,” his smile is one of victory. he won, or so he likes to think. there’s no telling what plan his daughter’s brain is about to construct.
“i want three,” she’s so fast to order. satoru knows he spoiled her too much, but how can he not when she signs a three with her little fingers?
“okay then, three,” he nods his head. “then you’ll go to bed?”
“but daddy—”
satoru sighs. this is going to be a long night.
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omgeto · 7 months
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✩ — 4:21am
summary: gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you.
cw: minor angst, fluffy ending (I PROMISE) this is for all you sad hojoes out there that just want your man home all in one piece.
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gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you. you didn't actually think much of it, until one night, you awake in panic feeling that something's off. you are used to falling asleep as you wait for gojo to come home, but when you check the time and realise that it was later than usual, anxiety gnawed at your heart.
the clock on the bedside table mocks you with its relentless ticking. each passing second only intensifies your unease. you reach for your phone and check for messages or missed calls, but there's nothing. gojo hasn't contacted you since the last heated argument you had before he left for his mission. it's been hours since then.
you can’t even remember what you fought about, it was something trivial, him forgetting to put the milk back in the fridge, or not putting down the toilet seat—it was dumb. it hurts you even more now that the things you were just berating him for a few hours ago, you were begging for him to come back and do one more time.
fighting back the growing panic, you try calling him. his phone rings, but there's no answer. of course there wouldn’t be you knew that he doesn’t use his phone when he was out, but you just had to try, hoping that he’d sent a quick text to say he was just around the corner—but there was nothing.
you couldn’t help but conjure up terrifying scenarios about him. what if he’s injured? what if he’s been chopped up into little pieces and he’s in pain? wanting to call you and he can’t.
you can't stay still any longer, pacing back and forth in your dimly lit apartment. your thoughts are a jumbled mess, and you can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened. the world outside is quiet, and the darkness feels suffocating. 
your mind wanders to the first time you met him, he was persistent immediately when he first laid eyes on you, claiming that he would stop at nothing to get to be with you. and that was true. you wouldn’t give him the time of day, at first, but whenever you were around him doing your ‘hard to get routine,’ he put in extra effort just to get with you.
there wasn’t anyone you could even ask to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t, who else would be? and there’s a part of you that wouldn’t even want to know, you had to see him, alive and well for all your worries to be gone.
as the minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity, you cling to thoughts of him, each memory acting as a lifeline. there wasn’t even any indication that something bad happened to him, but there is something unsettling that you just couldn’t shake.
you could feel him before you could even hear the faint tapping at the door. there isn’t any hesitation as you bolt to the door, dragging a weak standing gojo into a tight hug only pulling away as you hear him softly wince at your heavy touch.
“sorry,” he murmurs, standing with his arm clutching at his lower stomach, slightly hunched over, “i lost my keys.”
“you lost your keys?” you practically yell, “that’s what you wanna focus on right now?” you ask as you look at his injured body. this is the worst you’ve ever seen him, and you could tell that he was in pain from the way his usual breezy smile, isn’t reaching his eyes like it normally does.
you quickly usher gojo inside, supporting him as he limps toward the couch. the dim living room lights reveals a deep gash on his face, and his clothes are torn and stained with dirt and blood. 
“take off your shirt,” you order, your face filled with concern as you try and properly assess all his injuries.
“aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he jokes, cringing as you remove his shirt from over his head, trying not to hurt him further.
“this isn’t the time for jokes ‘toru,” you chastise, shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting emotional, “y’know i really thought that—” you sigh, not even wanting to utter the words, since it doesn’t matter as he’s here now, alive.
“i can’t even lie,” he starts, his eyes staring down, avoiding yours. “for a moment out there, i didn’t know if i could live up to my promise to you.” you couldn’t even respond, the fact that gojo could even admit that there was a chance that he wasn’t gonna get back to you, had you panicked.
“c’mere,” he says pulling your into his lap, noticing the stressed expression that has yet to leave your face.
you were quick to jump off of him, but he kept you firm in his hold, his arms wrapped protectively around you. despite the pain he must have been in, his eyes held a mixture of relief and vulnerability as he looked into yours. “satoru you’re hurt.”
but he gave you a reassuring smile, one that couldn't quite hide the pain etched on his face. "i'm okay, really," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “i just need you close right now."
as you settled back into his embrace, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, reassuring you that he was indeed alive and home with you, where he had always promised to be.
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AN: SO GUYS HOW DID I DO? im not really a drabble or fluffy girlie, as you guys know. but um tada... this is for you all. love ya. If there’s mistakes in there it’s 6am so ignore em please IF THIS IS SHIT THEN IM SORRY I TRIED. But as long as one gojo lover says “emp you’ve mended my little heart” I can die happy
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zorobff · 7 months
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how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)
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synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.
warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left
word count: 4.7k
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“this guy is full of shit.”
you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 
zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 
“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 
“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”
you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 
the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 
“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 
you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”
“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 
you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 
zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”
“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 
at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 
“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  
zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”
“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 
zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.
“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 
you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”
before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 
“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 
you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 
“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 
he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  
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“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 
“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 
“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”
“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.
“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”
zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”
you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 
“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.
“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.
“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 
you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 
going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 
“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.
usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”
zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”
“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 
abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”
the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 
the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”
“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”
“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”
before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 
“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 
“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 
the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 
“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 
“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 
your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”
“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 
kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 
klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”
“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 
giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 
luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 
“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”
she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 
“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 
“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 
his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.
the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.
“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”
he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”
his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 
“hey, you comin’?”
you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 
“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 
zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.
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“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”
“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 
“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.
nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 
“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 
“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 
you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.
nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 
you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”
“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.
nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.
“way to keep me humble, luffy.”
“no problem!” 
at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 
“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.
he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  
“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 
“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 
his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 
“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 
as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 
“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 
“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”
you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.
the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 
“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 
he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”
you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”
zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”
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by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 
luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 
“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.
“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 
“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 
dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”
“very on brand.”
“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”
arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 
once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.
“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.
you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.
looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 
kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 
“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 
“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 
while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 
“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”
you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.
kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 
he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 
you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 
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“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 
“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.
“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 
you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”
zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 
his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 
before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 
luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 
“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 
“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 
“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 
“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”
you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 
“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.
you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.
“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 
“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.
“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.
all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 
“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.
“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.
a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.
turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”
“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.
kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”
the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”
you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”
zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”
you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 
“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.
he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 
you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”
he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.
“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”
kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”
“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”
“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 
the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 
he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”
you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”
he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”
“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 
“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”
you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”
“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”
you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”
you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”
the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 
“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.
that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.
kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.
zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 
sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.
“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.
he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”
you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”
“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”
his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”
the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 
you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.
“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”
“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”
he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”
you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”
that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 
though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.
“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.
zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”
“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.
“only for pretty things.”
“do you mean me or the dress?” 
now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 
a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.
“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  
he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 
when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 
“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.
you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”
you both know that means yes.
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spaghettiposts · 1 month
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Window Crashin’
WandaNat x Spidey!Reader
Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.
Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.
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Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.
Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York. 
Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on. 
There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.
You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.
And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours. 
Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it. 
You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one. 
Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece. 
As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.
You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?
A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.
You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?
Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click. 
Finally, home sweet home. 
Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body. 
Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding. 
Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.
“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.
You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.
Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour? 
“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.
Barely bordering on those lines. 
“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you. 
You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 
“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion. 
“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.
“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.  
And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.
“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”
Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison. 
Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles. 
With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.
Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.
A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.
“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”
“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation. 
“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“ 
Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”
Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”
“Y/n, just get in the bed.”
Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer. 
Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always. 
Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this. 
Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.
You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes. 
With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world. 
And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.
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fyodorloveclub · 9 months
Text
toji x afab!reader. 18+, mdni!!! size kink (huge dick toji agenda), missionary, tummy bulge
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“t-toji, it’s not gonna fit,” you cry out, groaning in pain. the ring of muscle at your opening was stretched taut and throbbing just with the tip, and you seriously doubted it would accommodate the thickest part of his length.
toji only grunts in frustration. this wasn’t the first time the two of you had attempted going all the way, but you always tapped out when the pain of his obscenely thick, long cock got too much to bear. sometimes it wasn’t even the pain, the muscles just physically were unable to stretch enough to welcome him.
at this point there was nothing toji wanted more than to fuck you stupid and was praying this would be the time it worked, but he clearly was wrong. he had spent over half an hour eating you out, fingering you, and stretching you out with toys in preparation, and yet you still were struggling.
“just relax, baby, it’s okay,” toji coos, working hard to maintain his composure and not let his primitive side take over. it would be so easy to just shove your panties in your mouth, pin you down, and use his profuse strength to force himself in anyway, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “the more you tense up, the harder it’s gonna be, right?”
toji fushiguro wasn’t quite known for his patience, grace, and kindness, but you were and forever would be his one exception. the one he never wanted to hurt.
one thick hand rubs your waist gently as he uses the other to hover over you, piercing green eyes meeting yours in silent encouragement. the scar that ran perpendicularly through his lips warped as he offers you a small smile. “you can take me, love, i know you can. let’s take some deep breaths.”
you nod against the pillows, hand finding the one on your waist to intertwine your fingers together. your gazes meet once again to inhale and exhale in tandem.
“good girl,” toji praises, taking advantage of your mellowing demeanor to spread your legs impossibly wider and allow himself even better entry.
after three big, deep breaths, you almost tense up as you felt his tip prod against your cunt again, but toji squeezes your hand.
“breathe. stay relaxed. you can do it.”
“i can do it,” you parrot, nodding once again.
toji peppers sweet kisses up your neck and on your cheeks as he cautiously slid his cock into your hole, kissing away your quiet moans of pain and encouraging you to keep breathing. you do as you’re told, despite feeling the burn double with every centimeter of his length that entered you - but suddenly, pleasure blooms.
he must’ve finally hit the spot he only ever had with his fingers before, and your eyes go wide, keening as you moan unexpectedly. toji grins and takes the opportunity to sink his cock all the way in, growling as he finally, finally bottoms out. the feeling of his cock being completely enveloped and squeezed by your tight heat was something he had resigned to only experiencing in his fantasies, but it had become reality.
you were a crying mess, overwhelmed as you felt you were being torn in two while also feeling the shocks of pleasure that came from being filled to the brim. the puff of hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit as he fought to keep his hips stilled, making you gasp and whimper, wanting to hump against it.
“so fucking big, toji, can’t take it,” you cried, hands fisting the sheets and legs circling his waist.
“but you’re taking it already, baby, look,” he smiles, pressing a hand against your pelvis. peering down, you see what he’s talking about - a bulge had formed in your lower tummy, growing as toji angled his hips up and thrusted in just the tiniest bit more. “you like that?”
a smile lights up your face as you nod, proud of yourself. “good girl,” he coos once again.
the burn persists despite it all, but it’s drowned out by toji’s expert thrusts that hit all the right spots as he massages your clit, and soon, nothing could ever feel more right than being filled so full of your lover’s cock you can barely breathe.
“more, toji, more!”
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sunsburns · 2 months
Text
kiss of life (ii.)
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pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader
part one
summary: i actually suck at writing summaries but basically this is part two of part one of that soulmate au fic i posted a week ago lol
—or: luke castellan is being haunted by kronos and... well, you.
word count: 6.42k
warnings: sorry for any spelling errors, i haven’t checked yet, suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov as he's slowly being corrupted by kronos, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is stubborn and a dick, loser!luke, annabeth smacking some sense to luke, grover being an icon, reader is lowkey unreliable tbh... cliff hanger (again... lmfao sorry)
a/n: part two!!! thank you guys for all the love on the first part! i am so grateful for everything and i love reading all the comments and reblogs. i hope this one doesn't end up flopping lmfaooo. i honestly wanted this to be a short angsty fic but i got carried away and now i'm planning a whole multi-part fic for this, phew. anyways enjoyyy <;33
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At eighteen, Luke was cursed with nightmares. 
They clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel the fragile front of peace that he had fought so hard to maintain. Each night, he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, the echoes of his tortured dreams lingering in the corners of his mind like a haunting melody.
The Hermes cabin, once a sanctuary from the outside world, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him with each passing moment. The moon, a silent witness to his torment, cast its ethereal glow through the window, illuminating the slumbering forms of campers. Some were children of Hermes, like himself, bound by the tenuous ties of blood and kinship. Others, however, were unclaimed, their parentage shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.
And as Luke lay awake in the stillness of the night, a sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of doubt. In the depths of his troubled sleep, he could feel the tendrils of darkness closing in around him, threatening to consume him whole. And try as he might to deny it, he knew that his nightmares held a deeper significance, a harbinger of events yet to unfold in the shadowy pits of fate.
His nightmares were callings. A taunting voice would echo through the corridors of his mind, its insidious whispers weaving a thought of deceit and manipulation. It masqueraded as a voice of reason, a beacon beckoning him towards a destiny that promised demigods everything.
At first, Luke dismissed it as nothing more than the ramblings of a tortured soul, the byproduct of his own restlessness. But as the whispers grew louder and more insistent, he could no longer ignore the chilling realization that they were something far more sinister—a call to arms, a summons to embrace his role as a harbinger of the new world.
The nights he wasn't shaking from night terrors, he was tossing and turning at the thought of you. And he didn’t know what was worse. He couldn't escape you. The haunting image of you lingered in his mind even during sleep — your lips, your eyes, your skin, your voice, and that shared scar and your demise.
But at least, you'd given up on him by then. Your persistent efforts to reach out to Luke gradually dwindled into nothingness. Though you were still everywhere, a shadow that seemed to torment his every move, you no longer gave him even a fraction of your attention.
Gone were the days of you seeking him out, your footsteps no longer echoing in the halls of Camp Half-Blood in search of him. You refrained from asking for Chris's help, no longer burdening him with questions on Luke's whereabouts. The notes you once left behind were now relics of a time long past, their words fading with each passing day.
And as the full moon rose once more over the waters of the lake, you no longer waited by its shores.
Luke turned in bed, his mind restless as he tried to shake the image of you. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, seeking comfort in the warmth they provided, but the chill of unease still lingered in the air.
His gaze drifted across the row of beds, each a testament to the diverse personalities that inhabited the Hermes cabin. The floor was strewn with a chaotic array of sleeping bags, toys, and discarded clothing, while a collection of rocks adorned one corner near the closets, and drawings adorned the walls.
Despite the usual chaos that reigned during the day, the cabin now lay quiet and still. The children of Hermes, along with the unclaimed children and the ones of minor gods, had finally settled into the embrace of sleep. 
But amidst the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at Luke's consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that had settled over him after he noticed the empty bed and the slightly ajar door. 
Luke pushed back the covers and rose from his bed. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the empty bottom bunk, hoping not to wake anyone. The sight of an old penguin stuffed animal discarded at the foot of the bed made him edgy. His eyes trailed to the traces of blood splattered on the hardwood floor, stark against the dim light filtering through the cabin windows.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Luke picked up the toy, its soft white and black material now stained with crimson. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he made his way out of the cabin, the urgency of his steps echoing in the stillness of the night.
He knew all too well who the missing camper was – five-year-old Penelope, one of the newest arrivals to Camp Half-Blood and possibly one of the youngest campers. Found wandering alone in the woods near the camp hill just a week ago, she had been brought to safety by a group of fellow demigods on a quest. Luke couldn't shake the resemblance she bore to a younger Annabeth, with her wide eyes and insatiable thirst for knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised if Athena claimed her as her own one day–that is if he ever found her.
Luke's worry for Penelope weighed heavily on his mind, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as he combed through every inch of camp. The traces of blood he discovered fueled his unease, each droplet a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of the camp's borders.
In his search, Luke traversed familiar paths and hidden corners, his footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. He scoured the armour, the climbing wall, and the camp store.
Luke had known all about campers disappearing, whether it be on a quest or to escape and try to live a normal life with humans that never really lasted long enough as monsters would dwell within the shadows outside of camp. 
It was in the dim glow of the kitchen lights that Luke finally caught a glimpse of Penelope, perched on the counter in her pyjamas, her hair adorned with two loose pigtails. A sense of relief washed over him at the sight of her safe and sound, yet it was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.
His hand hovered over the door, hesitating as he listened to the soft murmur of conversation from within. With a steady breath, Luke pushed the door open ever so slightly, peering through the crack to catch a glimpse of Penelope. And you.
You, who looked older than when you first met in the infirmary. There was an air of maturity about you, a gracefulness that hadn't been there before. Your features seemed more refined, your presence commanding attention in a way that spoke of inner strength and resilience. Luke couldn't help but notice how your beauty had blossomed, surpassing the standards of mere mortal allure. It was a beauty that seemed to defy classification, uniquely yours yet undeniably captivating.
Despite this, Luke sensed a shift in your demeanour—a resignation, perhaps, to the reality of his ignorance. You had lost any hope you once harboured for him. His guarded nature would forever keep you at arm's length. And while part of him knew that this was for the best, a small, almost imperceptible part of him couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.
For in the crossroads of his heart, amidst the shadows that threatened to consume him, there lingered a faint glimmer of longing. The thought of being intertwined with someone who could offer solace in his darkest moments, who could bring light to the depths of his despair, held an undeniable appeal. And as much as he tried to deny it, the chance of you approaching him once more tugged at the fringes of his resolve, tempting him to let down his guard and allow you closer than he ever dared to imagine.
"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing up this late?" You approached Penelope with a gentle smile, a cookie in your hand as a peace offering. 
Your words hung in the air, gentle and coaxing, as you tried to draw Penelope out of her shell. Luke watched from the shadows, his gaze flickering between you and the young camper, a sense of admiration stirring at how you spoke to Penelope.
Penelope hesitated, her gaze shifting between the cookie in her hand and you. 
"You don't know?" You persisted, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of playfulness. You settled beside Penelope on the counter, your posture was relaxed as you leaned in closer to her. "Is it... a secret?" you whispered.
Luke noted the subtle change in your demeanour, the way you seemed to adapt effortlessly to Penelope's shy nature. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, one that resonated deeply with him.
As Penelope nodded in response to your question, you continued, your tone gentle and reassuring. "Let me tell you a secret," you offered, holding up your pinky finger as a symbol of trust. "I am the best secret keeper in this camp. I pinky promise."
After a moment's hesitation, Penelope tentatively reached out, her tiny finger linking with yours in a hesitant pinky promise. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
Penelope murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got hurt."
"What?" You gasped in genuine concern, your eyes widening as you shifted your attention to the young camper. "Can I see?"
Penelope nodded silently, her arm outstretched towards you. Luke observed from his vantage point, his heart twisting with worry as he noted the faint hint of red near Penelope's elbow.
You took Penelope's arm into your hands gently, your touch tender and reassuring as you rolled up the sleeves of her pale pink pyjamas. Luke couldn't help but notice the familiarity of those pyjamas, a subtle reminder of Annabeth's kindness and resourcefulness in making Penelope feel at home.
"Oh, wow, that looks like it hurts," You remarked softly, your brows furrowing in sympathy as you retrieved a first aid kit from the nearby cabinets. "You're handling it very well," you praised Penelope, your tone gentle and encouraging. "So brave of you."
Penelope watched you attentively as you began to clean her wound, her small frame tense with discomfort. "I don't feel brave," she admitted quietly.
"No?" You glanced up at her, "why not?"
"I miss my mommy."
Her words were tinged with a sense of longing that struck a chord with both you and Luke.
Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts drifting to his own longing for his mother. Penelope's admission resonated with him deeply, reminding him of the ache that never truly faded, no matter how many years passed, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. 
It was a sentiment shared by every demigod at camp, a silent ache that echoed through the cabins and training grounds. Yet, it was a pain rarely spoken aloud as if verbalizing it would make it all too real, too unbearable.
The yearning for a parent, for someone to fill the void left by their absence, weighed heavily on each camper's shoulders. It was a burden they carried silently, masking their vulnerability with bravado and determination. But for Penelope, the longing was raw in its innocence.
At just five years old, she was too young to fully comprehend the extent of her emotions. She couldn't grasp the complexities of her situation, the world of gods and monsters that surrounded her. All she knew was the absence of a mother's embrace, the absence of a comforting presence to soothe her fears and wipe away her tears.
It was a pain she didn't deserve, a burden too heavy for such a young soul to bear. The gods, in their arrogance and indifference, seemed oblivious to the lives they had shattered, and the pain they had inflicted upon their own children.
"Yeah?" You responded gently, "How much do you miss her?"
"This much," Penelope replied, her small hands spreading wide.
"Wow! That's a lot," you remarked, a sombre note underlying your tone as you processed Penelope's words. After a beat of silence, you shook off the heaviness of the moment and mustered a smile for her. "There we go. All cleaned up," you announced cheerfully, pressing a bandaid onto her elbow.
Penelope's smile widened in response, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she kicked her feet. In a quiet voice barely above a whisper, she murmured her thanks to you.
"So, you wanna tell me how you got hurt?"
"I don't know." This had been the most Luke had ever seen Penelope talk, and while her voice was still timid, the words slipping out hesitantly, she seemed to confide in you. "I woke up because my arm hurt."
"The cut was just there?" You asked, and when she nodded, you hummed sympathetically. "...I get those too, you know."
Penelope's eyes widened, "You do?"
"Yes," you affirmed with a soft chuckle. "A lot of people do. You get them from your soulmate. Did your mom ever tell you about soulmates?"
"Sometimes."
"Well, a long time ago, humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces," You explained.
"What?"
"I know, right? Super freaky. So freaky that Zeus decided to split them in half. So, now we have two arms, two legs, and one face."
"What happened to the other half?"
"That's our soulmate. Our other half. And Aphrodite gave us a gift to help us find our soulmate." The smile that had adorned your face slowly waned, "Every time you get hurt, your soulmate gets hurt too."
"Is that why you have a cut on your face?"
The question lingered, hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Luke held his breath, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response. But instead of answering, you reached out to Penelope, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you guided her off the counter.
"Let's get you back to your cabin."
Your words were gentle, a soft reassurance for Penelope's sake, but Luke could sense the undercurrent of sadness that ran beneath them. As you led Penelope away, Luke's heart ached in a way that felt so familiar yet foreign at the same time. It burned the same way it did when he returned from the quest when he hated the world and everyone in it, but this time, the only person he could find himself hating was himself.
He retreated from the door, clutching the stuffed animal in his hands. He felt a fleeting reminder of the times he would hide from the monsters with Thalia.
Luke's mind swirled with discordant emotions, each thought a whirlwind of uncertainty. He knew he didn't deserve your answer, didn't deserve the solace of your words. He had made it clear too many times to count that he never wanted a soulmate, never wanted you.
But despite his protests, despite the walls he had built around his heart, Luke couldn't deny the tug that pulled him to you, the hunger in his soul that refused to be ignored. It was a longing he couldn't shake, a yearning that whispered of a connection he dared not embrace. Knowing that keeping you away was the only way to protect you from the darkness that lurked within him was what kept him sane.
"Luke?"
The sound of his name tore Luke out of his thoughts like a violent gust of wind. He spun around, finding you standing on the porch to the kitchens, Penelope at your side. She held your hand, a small beacon of warmth and light in the dimness of the night. 
It seemed too perfect, too surreal, and Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of disbelief. Were you trying to kill him? It had been too long since the last time he spoke to you, let alone stood so close to you, and here you were, the epitome of what a demigod should be, even if you were still in the dreaded bright orange camp shirt.
"Hey," he managed to say.
You continued to descend the stairs, each step cautious and deliberate. "What- uh, what are you doing up?"
"I was actually looking for Penelope." Luke motioned to the girl hiding behind your legs. When he caught her eye, Penelope grinned and let go of your hand, darting over to Luke and jumping into his arms. He lifted her easily, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed her the stuffed toy she had left behind. 
"Oh." You hummed, "I didn't know you're a Hermes kid?"
"I'm unclaimed," Penelope chimed.
"For now," Luke's voice was gentle as he held Penelope in his arms. "And what were you doing up?"
"I was looking for a bandaid. I got lost." Penelope's words were punctuated by a soft yawn, and she nestled her head against Luke's shoulder, her exhaustion evident in every movement.
You hesitated, your gaze shifting to meet Luke's. "I found her by the canoes... near the dock."
The silence that settled between you felt heavy, suffocating almost as if it threatened to engulf you both. Luke found himself wandering back to the memories of you waiting for him at the dock during the summer nights and the regret that weighed heavily on his heart for never approaching you. He remembered the countless times he stood among the trees, watching you from afar, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.
Were you waiting for him there tonight? 
No, you couldn't have.
Guilt gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Listen, I-"
"I'm gonna go." You cut him off abruptly, your voice carrying a hint of tension. "Counsellor duties and all. I've got cabin checks in the morning so... you know, I gotta print papers... and stuff..."
Luke frowned at your lame excuse. "It's midnight."
"It's never too early to start now." You huffed defensively. "Bye, Penelope."
"Bye," Penelope mumbled sleepily, her hand lazily waving in your direction as you walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the trail leading to the Aphrodite cabin.
As they made their way back to the Hermes cabin, Luke held onto Penelope tightly, feeling the weight of her small body in his arms. The night air was cool against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of shame for the unease he noticed in you earlier. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you, but the words remained trapped in his throat.
Once they returned to the warmth of their cabin, Luke moved with a careful grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping campers around them. He gently placed Penelope back on her bed and tucked her in. But as he began to step away, her small hand shot out, wrapping around two of his fingers. Luke froze, eyes wide with surprise.
"Luke?" Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the cabin like a knife.
"Yeah?" Luke's voice was equally quiet.
"I think your soulmate is really cool." 
Penelope's words hung in the air, a simple statement that carried more weight than he could have ever anticipated.
Seven hours later, the memory of your face lingered in Luke's mind like an unshakeable ghost. Tossing back and forth in his bed, he tried to rid himself of the image, but it clung to him like a shadow. Each time he closed his eyes, your face flashed before him, haunting his thoughts. Even when he turned away, the spectre of Kronos lurked in the depths of his subconscious, a reminder of the choice that still loomed over him.
As morning broke over Camp Half-Blood, Luke found himself seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of his fellow campers. Annabeth's presence brought a brief distraction.
She slid into the seat in front of him during breakfast and gave him a strange look, slightly out of breath from the morning rush, a half-eaten apple in hand.
"Hey," she greeted him, her voice carrying a note of concern. Pausing to tie back her braids, she studied him intently. "Who you looking for?"
Luke's response came too quickly, "No one," he replied, his voice strained. Thankfully, Chris had left earlier because he was in charge of the climbing wall in the morning, he wasn't there to tell Annabeth that Luke had been looking for you. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the dining hall, a futile attempt to catch sight of you amidst the crowd. He felt pathetic. "What's up with you?"
Annabeth raised her brows. "Archery? Together? Remember? Or did you forget?"
"No. I didn't forget."
She only stared at him, skeptical.
"What?" he asked, "why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Oh, I get it," Annabeth's smirk hinted at a newfound understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dining hall, as she shook her head and rested her chin on her hand. "How long are you planning to keep this up for?"
Luke frowned, confused.
"This entire act you have with... you know," She didn't need to say your name for him to catch on. "It's getting out of hand, no?"
"I..." Caught off guard by her directness, Luke hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Choosing to play dumb, he feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right." Annabeth's knowing look pierced through his facade. She was always too perceptive for her own good. Fixing him with a narrowed gaze, she gave him a playful kick under the table, the impact enough to draw a startled reaction from Luke. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she took another bite of her apple before teasing him further. "Well, Grover said you're killing yourself."
"What?" He blinked at her, taken aback, "I'm not killing myself. Grover's just being dramatic."
"I don't think so." She said, slowly, carefully forming her words. "I mean, if I had a soulmate..."
Luke's defences bristled at the mention of soulmates, a topic he preferred to avoid. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?" 
"I'm allowed to worry, "Annabeth reminded him, her words tinged with a gentle insistence. "Family, remember?"
The word 'family' carried weight, a reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged over the years. It was a phrase Annabeth often employed to coax Luke out of his shell, to encourage him to confide in her. When they were younger, 'family' meant everything to Luke, thanks in no small part to Annabeth's influence.
"You don't need to worry," Luke assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve. "I know what I'm doing." But did he? Luke longed for the simplicity of a time before he met you when the idea of having a soulmate seemed like a distant fantasy. Now, every decision he made, every scar he bore, carried weight, knowing it could impact you in ways he couldn't comprehend.
"The least you can do is get to know her before she leaves."
Her words struck a chord within him, prompting Luke to cast a discreet glance around the dining hall, searching for you amidst the bustling crowd again.
"She's leaving?"
"Not forever, "Annabeth clarified with a chuckle, "Just on a quest. Search and rescue. Nothing fancy."
"...How do you know this?" he said after a moment.
"Chiron told me," Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "He also told me to tell you that the ceremony is tonight. I hope that doesn't kill you."
It did kill him a bit. At least, it felt like it did. Luke Castellan moved through camp with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding weapons, throbbed with a dull ache with the burn from the bow and arrow. 
Shoulders tense, skin prickling under the relentless glare of the sun, he scanned the bustling campgrounds.
The weight of his bow rested heavily on his shoulder, the familiar weight offering a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos. With practiced precision, he counted the arrows in his quiver, his movements fluid and sure. 
Then, he heard it—the sound that drew him like a siren's call. Your voice, lilting and laughter-filled, cut through the clamour of the camp, pulling him toward you like a magnet. There you stood, leaning against the doorway of the Hephaestus cabin, a clipboard clutched to your chest as you exchanged banter with Atticus, the skilled swordsmith whose craftsmanship had forged Luke's sword.
There was something different about you today, something delicate, more approachable than he had ever seen before. Last night, with Penelope, you had worn a similar expression—gentle, caring—but it was a side of you that Luke had never been privileged to witness. With him, you had always been guarded, reserved, as though afraid that he would cut or maim you.
As you scribbled something onto your clipboard, Luke found himself intrigued by the way your smile softened. It was a stark contrast to the confident facade you often wore, and for a moment, Luke felt a pang of guilt for pushing you away so soon.
Unbeknownst to you, you were drawing closer to Luke with each step, your path inexorably leading you toward him. Part of him craved to reach out, while another part hesitated, unsure of how to talk to you after all this time.
"Hey," Luke finally managed to utter as you drew near, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You paused, a hint of surprise flickering across your features as you registered his presence. "Hi?" Your response was tentative, laced with a hint of confusion. After a moment's hesitation, you glanced down at your clipboard, "I'm not changing my rank on your cabin. I know three is low, but I was being generous."
A ghost of a smile tugged at Luke's lips. He was all too familiar with the chaotic nature of Cabin Eleven, where overcrowding was the norm and taking turns on the sleeping bags was treated as a game. "No, no. I just..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought through the purpose of seeking you out. "I think we need to talk."
The confusion in your expression mirrored his own, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging between you. "Talk?" you echoed.
Luke nodded, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "Yes."
"You want to talk...? To me?" 
"I hope it's not that bizzare."
He tried to smile for you, but it felt wrong. Luke couldn't shake the weight of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew all too well that he hadn't been the embodiment of an ideal soulmate. In his mind, there lingered a pervasive belief that you harboured nothing but hatred towards him, something that you made obvious with every interaction between you two.
He wondered if this was the way you felt during the days he avoided you. 
Luke had noticed the shift. There was a calculated recklessness to your actions, a deliberate disregard for your own well-being that bordered on self-destructive. You stubbed your toe on roots and table legs, tugged too hard at your hair, and scraped your knees. You started to pull your punches while sparring with Clarisse, just enough to ensure that he felt the sting of every blow. You never blocked a hit in the face, a twisted satisfaction in the knowledge that your pain mirrored his own. Together, you would limp into the infirmary, bloodied and bruised where you'd be grinning far too wide, barely offering an ounce of guilt when Luke held ice to his face.
You lowered the clipboard from your chest, letting it rest against your side as you faced Luke. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the dense foliage above, casting dappled shadows that danced across your features and forced you to squint against the brightness. The noise of children's laughter and the sound of feet pounding against the earth filled the air.
Your voice cut through the noise, "You've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me, Luke," you began, your words carrying the weight of unspoken hurt. "You can't blame me for being surprised."
As you began to walk toward the next cabin, Luke fell into step beside you, "Can you just give me a chance—" 
"I think you're too late for that."
"I know, I just—" Luke's words faltered, his thoughts tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to articulate his feelings.
"I have nothing to say to you," you declared abruptly, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Luke skidded to a stop just in time, his gaze meeting yours as you regarded him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Seriously. I understand, okay? Did I come on too strong? Maybe. Yeah, I'll admit that" you acknowledged, your expression softening slightly. "Maybe coming to you hours after your shit quest was stupid, but I gave you space when you asked—"
"I just wanted to wish you luck on your quest," Luke interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of remorse.
With a quiet "Oh," you stepped back, your eyes momentarily averting his gaze. Were you embarrassed? Were you disappointed? Did you want to fight? 
"Sorry," you mumbled, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm seeing the Oracle after this. So... not technically a quest yet."
"It's your first one, right?" Luke's voice softened, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
"If you're worried about getting another scar, don't worry, I doubt it's anything dangerous," you reassured him, though your words held a hint of hesitation. There was a fleeting moment where your gaze lingered on him as if expecting a sudden change in his demeanour, but Luke remained still, his expression unreadable. "I just need to find Eros and go from there."
"Eros?" Luke's pace slowed, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he raised his brows in interest. Yet beneath the surface, a seed of annoyance sprouted, tendrils of jealousy winding their way through his thoughts. Your quest sounded far more intriguing than his own, and a bitter brew of envy churned in the depths of his stomach. Despite his inner turmoil, he attempted to play it off with a forced chuckle. "Has Cupid gone missing?"
"Apparently," you muttered bitterly under your breath, the resentment palpable in your tone. Luke sensed the edge to your words, though he pretended not to notice.
You sighed, "Is this conversation going anywhere? I really need to finish these cabin checks. I'm busy enough as it is."
Your words held an unspoken plea for him to leave, and though Luke understood, a pang of disappointment nagged at him. He couldn't entirely blame you; after all, he'd been an ass for months.
Both of you hesitated just outside the door to cabin eight, and Luke could feel your eyes on him. When you began to step away, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You froze, eyes wide with surprise.
“I also wanted to thank you,” He said, words rushing off his tongue.
“For what?” you asked.
“For last night.” He wasn't sure why he brought it up, why he felt like he needed you to know. "With Penelope."
"It was nothing," you said, voice barely audible. "We gotta look out for each other, right?"
Then, you left, you hurried up the short staircase to the cabin door, barely sparing him a glance before knocking. From his place, Luke could hear someone welcoming you into Artemis's cabin. He watched you until the door was shut behind you, vanishing you from his sight.
As the ceremony approached, the hues of twilight painted Camp Half-Blood in a golden glow, a serene yet foreboding atmosphere enveloping the surroundings. Luke's unease mounted with the setting sun, casting stretched-out shadows that seemed to carry something unnoticed. He couldn't shake the image of the figure from his nightmares, its monstrous visage haunting his thoughts with each passing moment. Yet, amidst the creeping darkness, there was an allure to the unknown, a temptation that beckoned him; its words, its promise of seeing the truth.
His gaze remained fixed on the white marble archway, half-expecting the nightmare to materialize at any moment, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with outstretched fingers. However, it was you who appeared, ascending the steps with graceful determination. Your presence seemed to dispel the shadows, bathing the surroundings in a radiant glow that eclipsed the fears that had once gripped Luke's heart. You were a blinding vice.
"Didn't think I'd see you here."
A sudden jab to his side sent him recoiling, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs. Luke winced, his gaze flickering to you as you flinched, subtly reaching for your own side. Quickly diverting his attention, he focused on the girl who had spoken.
Clarisse arched a brow at Luke, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Jumpy."
"Give him a break," Chris interjected, joining Luke's side and draping an arm over his shoulder. "Luke had a rough night, he lost a kid."
"Is that so?" Clarisse's grin widened. "And Chiron doesn't know? I'm assuming he doesn't otherwise, he wouldn't have picked you for this."
Luke scoffed and crossed his arms, "I'm the best swordsman at camp."
Luke's arms crossed defensively. "I'm the best swordsman at camp."
Clarisse's sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I don't doubt it. The most humble, too," she retorted, unfazed by his glare. "But let's face it, a search and rescue isn't exaclty your thing anymore. You're more of an action kind of guy. You live off the glory of victory. Chiron knows that."
She was right, Chiron did know that. Which was why he rarely requested Luke to stand in unless there was a catch. Then, the flames in the torches flickered to life, and silence enveloped the candidates. Each demigod chosen by Chiron swiftly took their place, standing tall and resolute by a marble pillar, eager to showcase themselves as the prime choice for the quest. Anything for Kleos. Anything for glory.
Chiron nodded, his gesture sharp and decisive, as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before addressing the assembly. 
"The Oracle has confirmed that this quest is a search and rescue," he stated, casting a brief, confident glance in your direction. "One where you will use all your best efforts to bring Eros back to the safety of Mount Olympus and restore the lost balance. I'm sure you know where to find him." His gaze then shifted to the rest of the candidates. "Here, I have selected some of our most compelling candidates from which you will choose one to join you on your quest, ensuring your success. Annabeth Chase, Atticus Brang, Chris Rodrigues, Clarisse La-"
As Chiron listed the candidates, you carefully evaluated your options, your eyes calculating. In the dim torchlight, Luke could just discern the thin line etched across your face, stretching from the end of your brow to your-
"I choose Luke."
The ensuing silence felt like something they could all drown in, leaving everyone stunned. Even Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spotted Luke's bewilderment. Surely, he must have misheard. There couldn't possibly be any way you had chosen him, could there?
Chiron turned to you, his tone measured. "Are you sure?"
You never shifted your gaze from Luke, who refused to meet your eyes as he stared fixedly at the pillar across from him. Yet, the clenching of his jaw, whether from anger or annoyance or something else, was enough to elicit a satisfied smile from you.
"I'm sure," you affirmed.
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
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so this one i stole again lol from your list. “Please go on a date with me.”
basically percy notices the reader and tries to impress her by doing crazy ridiculous things but she’s not interested because she thinks his ego is too big. finally she comes around when she sees he got hurt doing something for her to notice him. i hope that makes sense.
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Falling for you- Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
-£ words: 900 words
-£ Warnings: Short story, Simp Percy, cute crushes, reader being a bit mean to him, percy get it hurt, fluffy fic
-£ taglist: @kazurami14 @anonymouslyawesome25 @american-idiot21
the son of poseidon was persistent.
no matter how many times you told him off, or set him running with his head running, or you leaving him alone. he always kept coming back. Percy was often knocking his opponent down in training hoping you’d see him. he did everything to try and get your attention.
his back legs curled around a tree branch where you normally took your daily stroll, he was hanging down with a huge smile on his face and his cheeks glowing red. “percy.” you greeted with a uninterested tone. he just kept that annoying big smile, “lovely day isn’t it?” the only thing you did was roll your eyes and continue to walk down the dirt path. “And you’re ruining it.”
when he first arrived at camp, he already had some sort of glory after defeating a minotaur. he just kept finding his way in danger and saving the day, time after time. but his stupid smirk or smile told you he was too full of himself. he’d making the lake waves move, or make them a shape of something. no matter what, he was showing off.
and boy did you hate it.
somehow he find his way to you and that annoyed you, it was just too much. honestly you didn’t even realize he was trying to get your attention and just thought he was showing off to everyone. and certainly you didn’t know he had a crush on you. all you noticed was his ego.
but he noticed everything about you.
the way you walked, if you held your head up high or at the ground. how pretty your face shined when the sun shined on it, and how your smile shined even brighter. he was constantly chasing after you, he was craving to get your attention. most of the time he just did what popped up in his head which for someone like him, and you, was always dangerous and over the top. he lacked self control.
how someone could be so beautiful he couldn’t understand. even when you fought, he was entranced. you could be the worst fighter and he’d stare at you like the stars in the sky. his heart belonged to you.
but this time, he had gone to far.
“you’re a idiot,” you push his head under the water as you clothes get wetter by the second of sitting in the water. the bruising on his skin and the cuts going along with it only made your heart ache worse. his stunt didn’t go so well this time, hints his fracture wrist. he took a deep breath as he came back up even though he could breath under the water. he just wasn’t thinking straight.
sitting yourself back down on the sand you click your tongue. he had challenged you to a fight with that same attitude, the same smirk, the same slick tone. he got a little to distracted near the edge. he walked backwards with his sword held pointed at you, “look at us spending time together, we should do this more often.” he really should have watched his steps because his foot finally slipped and he took a tumble down onto the rocks. you watch him slide down, his grunts of pain and the way his body sounded made you cringe
lucky he landing on the shore line and only a few feet away from the water. which is were you two stay now catching your breath and thinking to yourself. why did you care if he was actually hurt or not? not like he would die or stay injured because he always got back up. why did his smile finally get to you back then?
and why was your stomach sick.
as you thought to yourself percy watched again like he always found himself doing. he loved the look on your face when you were deep in thought. and now that your face was wet and hair hanging down he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper for you.
“please go on a date with me.” his words cut you out of thought.
your eyes grow bigger and look at him shocked and startled. you couldn’t believe your ears. he just asked you out on a date…percy jackson asked you out. the cocky, dumb, arrogant demigod was talking to you. Why, you hate his guts and always made fun of him. he jumped up from the water and you saw his teeth pinch the inside of his mouth anxiously.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “it just came out. I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks but i couldn’t work up the courage to ask you out, I’m not good at this type of thing.” percy jackson lacking courage? that made you laugh. you looked up at him, the sun shining behind him as his hand now extended to you offering to help you up. any other time you would have smacked it away and cursed at him to leave you alone.
“I know you probably think I’m a total idiot which is true but, I really like you. If you really don’t want anything to do with me then I respect your wishes.”
but now you realize that you actually enjoyed his company. he made camp fun and exciting. and boy, was he handsome now that you really look at him. “alright, beach boy.” you grabbed ahold of his hand as he pulls you up. your body pressed into his and knocked him back a bit but his arm grabbed ahold of your waist to steady you.
inches away from his face your lips curled in a small smirk, “You got yourself a deal.”
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linkspooky · 7 months
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Are You Satisfied?
As you might have heard chapter 236 of Jujutsu Kaisen ends with the death of Gojo Satoru. The fandom is making a pretty big deal about it. As someone who predicted from the beginning that Gojo was going to lose against Sukuna, the reaction is fascinating to me. This is perhaps the most controversial chapter of Jujutsu Kaisen I've ever seen. So I've decided to throw my hat into the ring.
The central theme of Jujutsu Kaisen is death, so the death of one of the main characters isn't too surprising, but what does Gojo's death mean for the story? What does it say about his character?
As I said above I am a little bit shocked by the extreme controversy over Gojo's death. Gojo was never going to win the fight in the first place, because Jujutsu Kaisen is a story and the story would be over if he defeated Sukuna. He'd easily be able to take care of Kenjaku afterwards and the main conflcit would be resolved. Would it really be an interesting story if Gojo one shotted the villains while the kids just wathced on Television?
The story is also not about Gojo, it's about the students. Gojo may think he's the protagonist of reality but he's not the protagonist of the story.
Once again, Jujutsu Kaisen is a story and stories have themes. We may grow personally attached to characters, but characters are just narrative tools to convey the themes of a story, no different from prose, dialogue, and art. Characters are a tool to be used well or used poorly, and sometimes yes that means killing them. Whether Gojo's death was naratively satisfying though isn't the purpose of this post though we're only asking what does it mean?
Finally, Jujutsu Kaisen is not only a fictional story, it's specifically a tragedy. Full disclosure, it's a manga about death.
The Protagonist of a Tragedy
So, number one shout out to me for making this post 4 months ago where I called the way Gojo would end the fight.
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Excuse me while I fist pump for calling it!
The question on everyone's minds is why does one of the most powerful characters in the manga die offscreen in a pretty humiliating way, cut in half and helpless on the ground just like Kaneki. The reason Gojo didn't get a more heroic (or cooler) death is because we're not reading My Hero Academia, this is not a story about heroes or even a typical Shonen manga it is a tragedy.
In poetics Aristotle defines tragedy as:
"an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions" (51).
To paraphrase a tragedy is about human action, actions characters make in a tragedy often have dire consequences. One of the most common consequences if the reversal of a hero's fortune, a hero of a tragedy usually starts out on top and ends up on the bottom because of the bad choices they make. If in normal shonen manga characters overcome their flaws through effort and persistence, in Jujutsu Kaisen we see characters more often than not lose to their flaws.
The reason I posted that Kaneki panel specifically is because it was a brilliant moment of narrative punishment for Kaneki's central character flaw. Kaneki the hero's main flaw is that he always fights alone, and he constantly makes that same choice over and over again to fight alone. One of the characters helpfully explains it as well.
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Stories are primarily about change. If a character doesn't change they're not serving the plot, unless that specifically is the point. People have pointed out how abrupt it is for Gojo to get sealed in Shibuya, get let out, and then immediately die afterwards but that's kind of the point. Gojo made more or less the exact same choice (he asked for Utahime's help for a buff but otherwise fought the entire battle himself). The definition of insanity and what not, why would doing the same thing over and over again net him a different result?
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Not only did Gojo choose to fight alone, but as I've been hammering on and on about in previous meta the entire fight Gojo cared more about fighting a strong opponent then he did saving Megumi, the child he was responsible for.
Jujutsu Kaisen is not a typical shonen manga where everything is resolved by beating a strong villain in a fight. That's specifically why I used the Tokyo Ghoul reference, because the reason Kaneki is defeated offscreen like that is because he thought the world worked like a shonen manga. He has a fantasy sequence where he's fighting Juzo in a shonen battle tournament like this is Yu Yu Hakusho right before it snaps back to reality and he's limbless on the ground.
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Gojo is a major character in the manga Jujutsu Kaisen, literally "Sorcery Fight" and he is the best sorcerer in the whole world. His entire identity revolves around being a sorcerer. Since he is so good and beloved at what he does, he thinks that everything is resolved by exorcising a curse or defeating a strong opponent. He has basically no identity outside of that. Which is why when he's fighting the possessed body of his student, a person he's been mentoring since childhood his priority is not to save Megumi but to beat a strong opponent. Gojo is a sorcerer, before a human being. That's who he is, that's who he always has been since day one.
I think part of the negative fan reaction comes from fans being really attached to this scene in the manga and deciding Gojo's entire character revolves around being a good mentor figure to children.
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Which is just incorrect, Gojo's entire character revolves around being the strongest. On top of that though, Gojo can care about children and also care about being the strongest he can care about multiple things at once and have those things contradict each other because humans are complicated. I'd point out even in this panel where he's stating motivation he's not trying to raise these kids up into being healthy adults, he wants them to be strong Jujutsu Sorcerers. Even when he's raising kids, his intention is to turn them into Jujutsu Sorcerers because everything in Gojo's mind revolves around Jujutsu Sorcery. Gojo does not exist outside of the world of sorcerers. Gojo may be the chosen one but he'd never be able to hold down a job at Mcdonalds.
I think in general readers put more investment in the things characters say out loud, rather than their actions. You can say one thing and do another. I can say "I should never eat sweets again I'm going to improve my diet", and then go and eat ice cream five hours later. Gojo can state out loud his intention to foster children and protect their youths, but then fail to properly do that in the story. Characters are not always what they say they are, that's why they're interesting to interpret. This isn't me calling the readers stupid, just pointing out that Gojo is made up of contradictions. He wants to get rid of the old guard and replace them with something new, but Gojo IS THE OLD GUARD.
If the culling games arc has shown us one thing, it's that ancient sorcerers brought to the modern age do not care that much about human life on an individual level, they are all of them egoists. There's a reason Gojo resembles someone like Sukuna more than he does any other character in the manga. I'm not saying Gojo is exactly like Sukuna, he's far more altruistic and uses his genuinely noble ideals but at the same time Sukuna is a shadow archetype to Gojo he represents Gojo's flaws. The flaws that Gojo succumbs to in tragic fashion.
Which if you believe that Gojo genuinely does love his students, and the ideal he's fighting for is to raise up a better generation and allow them to live out their youths, then Gojo throughout the entire Sukuna fight is acting against those ideals. He cares far more about fighting Sukuna then he does saving Megumi, it's shown over and over again in the battle, Megumi is an afterthought to him. If Gojo care moredefeating the big bad and saving the world is more important than helping a child that Gojo is responsible for then Gojo is acting against his stated principles. Why should Gojo win the fight when he's fighting for all the wrong reasons?
Tragedies are like visual novels, if you make the wrong choice the novel will give you a red flag. If you ignore the red flag then you get locked into the route with the bad ending. Gojo always fights alone. Gojo only ever fights for himself, even if he's using that selfishness in support of a more noble ideal like creating a better generation of sorcerers. If Gojo consecutively makes the same changes then in a tragedy he's not going to be rewarded for it.
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Gojo wants the old generation out and the new generation in, but Gojo resembles the old generation too much. Old sorcerers like Hajime and Sukuna respect him, Hajime argues that Gojo being able to fight for his pride is far more important than him living to the end of the battle when Yuta wanted to interfere and help him.
Gojo's death isn't a surprise curve ball that Gege is throwing us for shock value, it's a result of his choices throughout the manga. A manga about change, and the change between generations is not going to punish a character for remaining roughly the same. Of course you might find it disappointing that Gege didn't give Gojo the chance to grow and change and experience a character arc like Megumi or Yuji, but Jujutsu Kaisen is a tragedy, and the way Gojo's arc ended is consistent with what Gege wrote.
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Jujutsu Kaisen is not just a tragedy though, it's a manga about death. The manga begins with Yuji's grandfather warning him not to die alone the way that he did. His grandfather's dying words are what motivate Yuji throughout the beginning of the manga as he's searching for a "proper" death.
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One of the major themes of Yuji's character is a contemplation of death. He accepts that death is inevitable, so he wants to save them from the gruesome deaths they'd experience if they became victims to curses and allow them to have a more satisfying death. Yuji's grandpa died an unsatisfying death because he died alone in a hospital room. Yuji even tries to make his own death a satisfying one because he believes by dying to seal away Sukuna he'll reduce the total number of casualties to curses.
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Jujutsu Kaisen keeps investigating the theme of death and what exactly would make for a satisfying death. At one point it's all but stated that death is the mirror that makes humans analyze their lives.
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When Yuji fails to save Junpei from the "unnatural death" it calls into question whether or not his goal of saving people from unsatisfying deaths and the gruesome deaths caused by curses is even feasible. Nanami even says that Yuji might not be able to accomplish his goal and warns him away from the path.
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We see repeated unsatifying deaths in the manga, each time someone reflecting on their deaths that they weren't able to get what they wanted out of life. This list comes via @kaibutsushidousha by the way I'm quoting them.
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Nanami's a character who chose to work as a sorcerer because he didn't want to evade the responsibility of doing all you can to help people, he wanted to believe he's somewhere where he's needed. He never runs away from responsibility like Mei Mei does so he quite literally works himself to death, living and dying as a sorcerer. Nanami or Gojo's dying hallucination of Nanami even says as much, his death is the result of him choosing to go south and returning to be a sorcerer.
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Maki chose revenge against the Zen'in over her sister, and as a result Mai is dead. Maki has all the power in the world now, her revenge complete but she's left with a sense of "now what?" She's as strong as Toji now but she failed to protect her sister, and it's the result of the choices she made. Maki's reflection isn't triumph, it's "I should have chosen to die with her."
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Even Yuji himself is robbed of his narrative purpose. The manga began with Yuji saying he wants to choose how he's going to die and he'll die taking out Sukuna with him so he can reduce the number of people killed by curses in the world. Both of those things are thrown in Sukuna's face. Number one the amount of people Yuji can save by permanently killing Sukuna is now a moot point because he let Sukuna rampage in Shibuya.
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Number two, Sukuna isn't even in Yuji anymore. To build on what Comun said though, this repeated tragedy has a purpose to it and understanding requires understanding that Jujutsu Kaisen is an existentialist manga. Existentialism is basically a school of philosophy centered around the question of "Why do I exist?"
There's nothing about the invetability of death to make you question why you're alive in the first place. In the myth of Sispyhus, Albert Camus boils down all of philosophy to one question.
"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. "
All of philosophy is should I shoot myself in the head or should I keep living? Everything comes after that question, which is why in Jujutsu Kaisen a lot of the characters motivations revolve around them contemplating death. Sorcerers exist in a world where they can die any moment, and as Gojo says most of them die alone. It might be the nature of sorcery itself that causes so many people to die, not only are they dying because they are trapped in an uncaring system, but the characters themselves aren't really attempting to live outside of it. They live and die as sorcerers, replaceable cogs in the machine.
All of these unsatisfying deaths may just be the result of all these characters making one choice, to live as sorcerers rather than people. Because to exist means to live in the world.
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Even in Mechamaru's case, his goal is deeply existentialist by what I defined, all he wants to do is live in the world with everyone else rather than be stuck in his hospital room but his actions contradict that goal. Instead of letting his friends come and visit he's obsessed with the idea of getting a normal body because he feels that's the only way he can exist with everyone else, he makes a deal with the devil, he lies and goes behind their backs. He wasn't living with everyone else in the world and he could have chosen to, he chose wrong and his death is the result of that choice.
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Jujutsu Sorcerers aren't living in the world. They're living in a little snowglobe far removed from the world with its own rules, most of them regressive and disconnected from the rest of society. If you define existentialism as just "living in the world' then a lot of these characters aren't, because they only exist in the world of sorcery.
INVISIBLE BUFFY: What are you talking ab- SPIKE: The only reason you're here, is that you're not here. (drinking) INVISIBLE BUFFY: Right. Of course, as usual there's something wrong with Buffy. She came back all wrong. (moving around on the bed) You know, I didn't ask for this to happen to me. SPIKE: Not too put off by it though, are you? (drinking) INVISIBLE BUFFY: No! Maybe because for the first time since ... I'm free. She tosses the sheet aside. Spike looks around, trying to figure out where she's going. INVISIBLE BUFFY: Free of rules and reports ... free of this life. SPIKE: Free of life? Got another name for that. Dead.
Not living in the world with everyone else is the same as being dead.
A lot of these characters either make the choice to act alone, or be a jujutsu sorcerer rather than a person and because of that they die as sorcerers, b/c sorcerers die that's what they do. Mai didn't want to keep living as a hindrance to Maki so she kills herself. Maki didn't want to be anything other than a sorcerer, so her little sister dies and she's not a big sister anymore. Nanami chose to leave his job behind and become a sorcerer again, he dies as one.
Of course I don't think the manga is punishing characters for being too egotistical, but rather too unbalanced. If anything Mai is too selfless and that is why she died, she didn't want to live for herself and chooses self sacrifice for her sister. An unbalance between selfishness or selflessness results in an underdeveloped ego. Jujutsu Kaisen doesn't punish individualism per se, moreso if you're not a fully developed individual you won't last long. Because it's also a manga about growing up in the world, and a person who doesn't have a healthy, mature, well-balanced sense of self is not a grown up.
This twitter user det_critics points out that Gojo (and also Yuki + Yuji's) failures in the manga can be attributed to the fact they don't have real senses of self.
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Gojo has an identity crisis as outlined by Geto, "are you Satoru Gojo because you're the strongest, or are you the strongest because you're Satoru Gojo?"
It's a challenge for him to find some reason to live outside of being the strongest, and in tragic fashion Gojo just doesn't find it in time. Gojo lived for fighting others, and proving to himself that he's the strongest, and that's how he dies.
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There's something I like to say about narrative punishment in stories. There are two ways to punish a character, you either don't give them what they want, or you give them exactly what they want. This is the latter, Gojo wanted to find someone stronger than him because deep down he believed that nobody could understand him unless they were on his level. He wanted to be surpassed, and that's why he focused on creating stronger young sorcerers, but he never shook himself of the belief that only someone as strong or even stronger than he was could ever be emotionally attached to him so he made a deliberate choice to draw a line between himself and others.
Gojo's essentially gotten what he wanted from that choice in the worst way possible. The student he picked to succeed him Megumi, has his body stolen and kills him. Gojo is surpassed, but it's not by one of his own students it's by an enemy that's not only trying to kill Gojo but is going to massacre his students afterwards.
Gojo's spent his entire life believing that because he's more powerful that makes him inherently different and above others, and being lonely because he himself believed he couldn't relate to ordinary people and he dies like an ordinary person, an unsatisfying death where he wasn't able to bring out Sukuna's best, where he gets unceremoniously cut in half offscreen but yay he's no longer the strongest. He's gotten exactly what he wanted. Megumi is still not saved, Sukuna's probably going to kill more people because Gojo failed to stop him here, but hey at least he stopped to compliment Gojo.
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It's empty, but it's empty because of the choices Gojo made in life to just not bother connecting to people or develop any kind of identity besides being a sorcerer. Gojo lives and dies as a sorcerer, and his dying dream is returning to a teenager being surrounded by everyone he was with during his school days, because that's the happiest time in his life. Ironically he was happier before he became the strongest, because that was the only time in his life that he allowed himself to connect to people.
However in the eyes of others, he is someone who has it all. That's why he is always alone. There was no one who could hold the same sentiments and mutually understand him. Geto was the only one who could understand what he was trying to say, and the only one who could communicate well with him.
It's no coincidence Gojo and Geto die exactly a year apart on the same day, if anything I'd say the reasons they die are similiar to at least thematically. They both die because they don't want to live in the world. Geto thinks the world is too corrupt and GOjo doesn't want to be anything other than a sorcerer, both of them fail to adapt.
「 'It's just. . .' It's just that it was what Geto had to do. [...] To someone like him, the reality that the world of sorcerers presented to him was just too cruel. '. . .that in a world like this, I couldn't truly be happy from the bottom of my heart.'」
They can't be happy in a world like this from the bottom of their hearts, so narratively they both die. The things they chose to live for at the end of their life they fail to accomplish, Gojo is no longer the stronget, Geto fails to wipe out mankind or make major changes to the world and they die as normal people unsatisfied because they weren't trying to live in the world and make connections to others. They die almost karmically a year apart because their main connection for both of them, the thing which made them feel connected to the world and other people was each other.
Which is why this panel breaks my heart and is so narratively satisfying because of how unsatisfying it is...
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"If you were among those patting my back... then I might've been satisfied."
Gojo reflects that he's not satisfied dying against Sukuna, not because he failed to give him a good enough challenge but because Geto wasn't there to pat him on the back. The one thing that would have satisfied him he couldn't have, because he didn't live to connect to people he lived to be the strongest and he died alone as the strongest. There's just something deeply upsetting about Gojo's dying dream fantasy just him being there talking with all of his dead friends who he never appreciated or connected to properly when he was alive. Knowing that if something had just gone a little differently, that even if he had to die no matter what he could have died happier if Geto was among the people saying goodbye to him because that connection with Geto is what gave his life meaning.
Dazai Osamu: "A life with someone you can say good-bye to is a good life, especially when it hurts so much to say it to them. Am I wrong?" -Bungou Stray Dogs Beast
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en-dazedafterdark · 9 months
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PAIRINGS: coworker!jungwon x reader
GENRE: smut, pwp, very little plot tbh, fwb??
WARNINGS: fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, handjob, kinda mean dom jungwon
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Morning meetings were the least favourite part of your day. You fought back a persistent yawn that threatened to escape, disguising it with a swift sip of the steaming coffee you held tightly in one hand. The aroma of the dark roast momentarily invigorated your senses, but you knew it would only be a temporary respite from the drowsiness that clung to you like a stubborn shadow.
“You look like hell.” Sunoo commented as you sat down next to him at the meeting table. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Sunoo grinned, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Well someone has to knock you down a peg. But seriously, you look awful, did you not sleep last night?” 
“Oh I’m sure Y/N must’ve had a very long night last night.” The voice that replied was tinged with amusement and you flushed as Jungwon sat down in the seat next to you. 
He flashed a smile at you that may have seemed innocent to anyone else but you knew exactly what he had been alluding to with his seemingly innocent comment. Memories of the past night flashed into your mind and you shifted restlessly in your seat. 
“Did Jay give you reports to finish at the last minute again?” Sunoo asked obliviously. “I can’t believe you had to deal with his horrible time management skills again.”
You chuckled nervously, glad that Sunoo had missed the meaning behind what Jungwon had said. “Yeah, I was up all night finishing those.” You lied. 
“I’m sure it must’ve been very hard.” Jungwon gave you a look of mock sympathy. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Jungwon's playful gaze lingered on you. The memories of the night before were definitely not work-related, and you were grateful that Sunoo was entirely oblivious to the hidden implications behind Jungwon's teasing.
You were saved from replying when the team leader, Jay walked in. 
“I know no one wants to be here, least of all me. So let’s get this done as fast as we can so we can all go back to pretending we’re working in our cubicles, ok?”
The laughter that followed Jay’s words were clearly forced. Sunoo leaned towards you, whispering in your ear. “I can’t believe I have to pretend Jay is funny this early in the morning.”
You stifled a laugh at his words, disguising the little sound you made as a cough. Thankfully no one seemed to notice and the meeting moved on without any interruptions. Despite how tired you were, you were fully focused on the meeting… until you felt a leg graze yours under the table. 
Your heart skipped a beat as you felt the subtle touch of Jungwon's leg against yours under the table. Your initial instinct was to withdraw but when you looked over at Jungwon, you saw the small smile on his face. 
He was definitely up to something. 
Trying to maintain your composure, you shifted slightly in your seat hoping to create some distance between your legs and his. But Jungwon seemed determined to play his game.
When he brushed his legs against yours for a second time you shot him a warning look. “Stop it.” You hissed at him. 
He looked at you innocently as he repeated the action once more. You fought back the shiver that rushed through you at the touch.“Stop what?” 
His playful smile grew wider, clearly enjoying the flustered state he had put you in. He moved his legs away and for a minute, you felt relieved that he had finally stopped. Until you felt a hand sneaking up your thighs. 
You stifled a yelp, glancing over to see Jay's eyes scanning the room. You forced your breathing to remain steady, trying to act as if everything was completely normal.
Jungwon seemed unaffected, nodding along with whatever Jay was now going on about as his fingers moved up your thighs and under your skirt. You held his gaze as his fingers lightly brushed your inner thighs, daring him to move any further. A tiny smile formed at his lips as his hand continued its ascent under your skirt, the pad of his fingers teasing you through your underwear. 
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you struggled to keep up with the conversation with the rest of the team.
“What do you think about that Y/N?” Jay suddenly asked and you panicked. You had barely been paying attention to what he had been saying thanks to Jungwon. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you tried to form a coherent reply.
Jungwon was enjoying this, you could tell from the small smirk on his face. He slowly brushed a finger across your covered mound as you tried to respond, drawing a gasp from you that managed to have Jay look at you in concern.
“Are you alright, Y/N?”
You forced a shaky smile as everyone’s attention suddenly turned to you. Jungwon didn’t seem to mind. His teasing only increased as his fingers pushed the hem of your underwear aside to stroke your already embarrassingly wet cunt. Your eyes were fixed on the table, unable to look at any of them as you felt Jungwon's fingers trace circles against your clit.
Jay didn't seem to notice the change in Jungwon's behaviour, still looking at you in concern. You drew in a shaky breath. "I-I'm fine," You replied shakily. "Sorry I just feel a bit under the weather."
He didn't seem convinced, but thankfully seemed to drop the subject. You were grateful when he continued his speech and everyone else lost interest in you. Jungwon seemed to have a hold of your undivided attention though, his fingers slowly slipping between your folds to circle around your clit.
“So wet already.” Jungwon said under his breath. He had moved closer so he was speaking right into your ear. He was so close that you could smell the scent of him mixed with the smell of your perfume that had been worn the night before. The thought of Jungwon smelling like you had your pussy drip even more. 
You clenched your thighs together, trapping his fingers between them. He seemed to be enjoying the power he had over you, but you were determined to maintain control. You were about to release your thighs when his fingers suddenly thrust deep inside you, causing you to choke back a gasp.
Jay looked at you in concern once more. "You really don't look well. Maybe you should go home for the day."
You quickly shook your head, knowing that if you left you wouldn't be coming back to work. "No, I'm fine really. I can get through this."
You did your best to ignore Jungwon, whose fingers were thrusting deep inside you, fucking you slowly while the rest of the meeting was going on.
“Keep quiet if you don’t want them to notice what I'm doing to you." He said quietly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You nodded, biting your lip to stop the moan from slipping from you.
Jungwon chuckled. "Good girl."
He seemed to be enjoying himself as his fingers continued to fuck you. The feeling of his fingers inside you combined with the risk of being discovered was quickly bringing you to the edge of your orgasm.
He must've sensed that you were getting close, withdrawing his fingers to slowly circle your clit, teasing you as you struggled to keep yourself from crying out.
"Keep your head up and act natural, ok? Everyone will notice if you're too busy staring at the table and whimpering like that.” He warned quietly.
You drew in a deep breath, forcing yourself to maintain your composure as he continued toying with you, the sensations he was causing making your mind go blank.
His finger circled your clit once more and you had to bite back a moan. Your face felt flushed as you struggled to focus on the meeting, which you knew had to be over soon. You glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that only 5 minutes remained.
You prayed that they would end soon, hoping that Jungwon would finally give you a release that you needed so desperately. You could feel your thighs clenching around his hand, his fingers moving inside you and you knew that it would only be a matter of time before you came undone.
He must've sensed your urgency too, because he began fucking you once more, his fingers thrusting hard inside you. Your breath hitched and you had to bite your lip to stop a whimper from escaping your throat.
The fingers of his free hand were resting lightly against your leg and you reached down to cover his hand with yours.
"Come for me." He said softly and you felt a small shudder course through you. His words were all you needed to push you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you as you struggled to remain quiet.
You clamped your thighs tight around his hand, feeling the first wave of pleasure crash over you and you clenched your fists tightly to stop your fingers from gripping the table. You fought back a moan as his fingers continued to move inside you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure that he could.
You struggled to keep yourself together as he slowly withdrew his fingers, pulling your underwear back into place as you looked at the clock. Only 1 minute remained.
You tried to compose yourself as you felt Jungwon's fingers lightly brush your thighs. He seemed to be taking pleasure in knowing that you were so disheveled, the evidence of his touch clearly visible on you.
He moved his hands back under the table and you struggled to keep a neutral expression as you saw him clean his fingers with his napkin.
“Are you really fine, Y/N? You look a little flushed, do you want me to help you to your desk?” Sunoo asked as soon as the meeting concluded. 
You shook your head. "No, I'm ok. Really. Just a little tired."
"Are you sure?" He sounded worried. "I could escort you back to your desk if you need some water, or even if you want to rest in the break room."
"I'll be fine, thanks Sunoo." You gave him a small smile as you got up. You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you made your way to the exit and you tried your best to act normal. Sunoo seemed convinced that you were fine, giving you one last concerned look before leaving. The rest of the team followed suit until it was only you, Jungwon and Jay.
"Do you feel better?" Jay asked. "You don't look so hot."
You nodded. "I'm better, thanks. It was just a slight headache."
Jay seemed to be satisfied with your explanation and he too left the meeting room. You looked over at Jungwon.
"Don't say a word." You warned him as you began to leave the meeting room. 
His laughter followed you down the hallway as you made your way to your desk.
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"Are you still here?"
You looked up to see Jungwon standing at the door of your office, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
You had been working for hours on some new design concepts that the company had requested and you were glad to finally be getting some rest.
"Yeah." You replied. "I was just finishing up. What are you doing here? Don't you usually leave early?"
He shrugged, moving inside after closing the door behind him and leaning against the edge of your desk. "I stayed back to finish up some work."
You nodded and tried to focus back on your screen, but it was impossible with Jungwon so close to you. You could still feel the effects of his teasing from that morning lingering in your body and it was becoming hard to ignore the sensations that were coursing through you. The rest of the office was almost empty, and the only people left were those who worked late every night. 
"So... about this morning..." You began.
"What about this morning?" He looked up at you, a small smirk on his lips. "Do you want to tell me how much of an asshole I am?"
You blushed. "Well, I don't know that you're an asshole, but you weren’t exactly paying attention to the meeting today."
"I could say the same about you. You were barely able to answer anything at all." He smirked.
"That's because I was..." You paused as you realised how lame your excuse would sound.
"Yes?"
You shrugged. "I was distracted."
His smile grew wider as he sat back on your desk. "Distracted? What kind of distraction?"
You knew what he was doing, but you weren't going to give in so easily. "You know what kind of distraction."
He looked at you for a long moment, his eyes moving over you. His expression had suddenly changed and you realised how close he was to you. You could see every detail of his features, the sharp edges of his jaw and the tiny mole on his cheek. His eyes were dark and you could see his desire in them.
He moved towards you, one hand slowly lifting to cup your cheek. He leaned closer and you could feel your breath catch in your throat as he stopped inches from your face. His lips were so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.
You struggled to keep your eyes open, afraid that if you closed them even for a second you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from kissing him. His fingers were lightly brushing your skin as he tilted your head towards him, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. Your lips parted as he drew closer and you felt his thumb slide against your tongue. You let out a soft sigh at the sensation and you heard him chuckle.
"Distracted?" He whispered as he looked into your eyes.
You nodded slowly, biting down gently on his thumb as he brushed it over your lip once more. His eyes darkened as you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it lightly as you met his gaze.
He drew his thumb out of your mouth with a low groan. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he kissed you. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue brushed yours, the familiar taste of him filling your senses as he slid his tongue into your mouth.
He cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb brushing against your skin. His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you towards him as you kissed hungrily. The kiss was just as hot and intense as it had been the night before. You moaned into his mouth as he nipped your bottom lip.
Your arms moved to wrap around his neck as you climbed onto your desk, sitting beside him so you could get a better look at him. You could hear someone walking past your desk, their footsteps echoing as you heard a door open and close. Jungwon must have noticed your concern because he kissed you again, his fingers moving to tangle in your hair.
His hand was moving slowly over your thigh, your skirt riding higher and higher until you felt his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.
"You're driving me crazy." He whispered against your mouth. "Do you have any idea how much I've thought about you these past few days? How much I want to fuck you right now?"
His fingers brushed against the crotch of your underwear and you bit your lip, moaning softly into his mouth. You could feel your arousal growing, a slow ache settling between your thighs.
Jungwon chuckled. "You're so wet for me already."
He hooked a finger under your underwear, pulling it down to your knees, using his other hand to rub your wet folds.
You whimpered at the touch, wanting to feel his finger inside you. He teased you with just the tip of his finger for what felt like hours, his touches light and teasing.
"Jungwon..." You whispered, feeling impatient. "Please."
"Please what?" He looked up at you and you could see the challenge in his eyes.
"Stop teasing me." You whined as his fingers moved away from your sensitive flesh.
"I'm not teasing you."
"Yes, you are."
He smirked and shook his head. "No. I'm simply enjoying the view."
You pouted at him. "You're the worst."
He chuckled as his fingers began to move against your inner thigh, drawing little circles. You bit your lip as his fingers drew closer to your core, your anticipation growing.
"What if someone comes in?" You whispered, your words sounding strained.
He looked up at you. "Then I'll give them a show."
You could see the mischief in his eyes and you knew that he would make good on his promise. You sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed against your sex, your arousal coating his finger. He slowly began to push his finger inside you, causing you to let out a low moan.
You could feel yourself growing wetter with each thrust of his finger and you let out a low moan when his thumb pressed down on your clit. Your hips bucked forward as Jungwon began to move his finger faster, thrusting it into you as he rubbed your clit with his thumb.
"Do you want more?" He whispered against your mouth and you nodded, your voice lost in your moans.
"Use your words, baby."
You felt him thrust his finger hard inside you and you clenched around him.
"More. Please, I need more."
He chuckled. "Good girl."
You felt him slip a second finger inside you, thrusting them into your core as you moaned softly. His fingers were moving faster and harder now and you were barely able to form a coherent thought as the pressure grew between your thighs.
"I'm going to come..." You gasped out, your thighs trembling with the need to feel your release. Jungwon slowed his movements down and you let out a frustrated moan.
"What are you doing?" You whined, not sure if you could take much more of the teasing.
"Not yet." He replied with a smirk. "Not until I hear you beg for my cock."
You gaped at him. "What?"
"You heard me."
Your mouth opened to argue, but no sound came out. You could feel your face burning with embarrassment, but the sensation of his fingers inside you was making it impossible for you to think straight. You looked into his eyes, the dark orbs full of desire as he smirked at you.
"Please, Jungwon. I need it so badly. I'll do anything." You knew it was the desperation talking, but you didn't care.
"Anything?" He moved his hand away from your cunt and you bit back a whimper at the loss.
"Anything." You promised.
He seemed satisfied and he moved off the desk. You could see the bulge in his pants and you watched as he slowly undid his belt. Your eyes followed his movements as he unbuttoned his pants, slipping the zipper down and slowly pulling down his boxers. His cock sprung free, already hard and leaking at the tip. You let out a low moan at the sight.
"You want it?" Jungwon asked, slowly stroking his cock with his hand.
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes from him. You let out a soft whimper, wanting him so badly you thought you might cry.
Jungwon moved back towards the desk, pulling your legs around him so that your centre was lined up with his cock. You reached down, stroking him gently as he groaned.
"You're such a tease." He groaned, looking down at you as you bit your lip.
You smirked at him, feeling more confident now that you had him where you wanted him. You slowly stroked him, enjoying the sounds that he made as you moved your hand up and down the length of his cock. You could feel the wetness between your thighs, your arousal coating his length as you stroked him.
You guided him into your centre, the tip of his cock sliding against your wet flesh. You gasped as he pushed deeper inside you, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.
He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle as he let out a low moan.
"You feel so fucking good." He whispered, his hips moving faster. "God, I can't get enough of you."
His hands were resting on your waist, his grip tight as he began to thrust into you harder. His cock was hitting every sensitive spot inside you and you let out a low cry as he quickened his movements.
"Jungwon, wait. We have to be quiet." You warned him, knowing that the last thing you needed was someone walking in and catching you with your co-worker's cock inside you.
"I can be quiet, sweetheart," He chuckled, moving faster. “But can you?”
You struggled to remain silent, biting your lip hard as his movements caused a delicious friction between your legs. Your thighs were trembling as he slammed into you, the pleasure building up with each thrust. He leaned forward, his lips brushing your neck as he kissed you softly. His pace was slowing and you knew that he was trying to be gentle, but you didn't want him to be. You wanted him to fuck you hard.
"Harder." You moaned into his ear. "Fuck me harder."
You felt him growl against your skin, his hand gripping your thigh as he began to fuck you harder. His cock slammed into you and you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you as your head fell back. He kissed you hungrily, his hands moving to your breasts as he squeezed them through your blouse. His fingers found the buttons, unbuttoning them as he slid his hand inside your bra. You could feel your orgasm building as he pinched your nipple, moaning into his mouth as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts.
“Quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want everyone staying back to hear how much of a slut you are, do we?” He felt your cunt clench tightly around him at his words and he groaned. “Fuck, you like being called a slut don’t you?” 
He slipped his hand under your skirt, his finger brushing against your clit as he fucked you. You moaned loudly, knowing that you were going to come at any moment.
“J-Jungwon, I-I’m”, You could barely speak, mind going blank as his thick cock reached places inside you that had you seeing stars. 
Jungwon moved faster, his thumb circling your clit as your orgasm approached. His thrusts became harder and more desperate as you came, his cock thrusting into you hard. You struggled to keep yourself silent as you came hard around him, the sensation of your release making you shudder.
He continued to move slowly, riding out your orgasm until he was sure you were done. He slipped out of you, stroking himself as he watched you come down from your high.
"I wish I had a camera," He groaned, biting his lip as he began to stroke himself faster. “You look so fucking gorgeous when you come.”
You moved closer to him, wrapping your hand around his cock and you began to stroke him faster. You could feel his pre-cum coating your palm and you watched him as he groaned, his head falling back. He bit his lip hard, his hips thrusting into your hand. He groaned your name as he came, his warm liquid coating your hand.
You slowly let go of him, using your thumb to gather some of the come on your hand. You lifted it to your mouth, sucking on your thumb as Jungwon watched. He groaned as you cleaned off your hand, leaning down to kiss you. You could still taste the sweetness of his release on your tongue as you kissed him hungrily, your hands roaming over his chest and grabbing onto his tie desperately. 
He pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against yours.
"That was amazing." He whispered, kissing you softly.
You smiled. "It was."
You could see that he wanted to say something else, but he remained silent. You climbed off the desk and he fixed his clothes, sliding his fingers through his hair as he looked down at you.
You tried to tidy yourself up, doing your best to look presentable and to not look like you were just fucked by Jungwon on your desk.
"So... uh... I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" You asked, trying to sound nonchalant even though you felt like you were about to burst.
Jungwon smiled at you and you swore you could feel the room heating up.
"Tomorrow?" He replied. "I can't wait."
You rolled your eyes at him. "That's not what I meant."
"I know, I'm just playing with you." He smirked, walking to the door. "I'll see you later."
He disappeared through the door and you let out a long sigh, shaking your head as you tried to process everything that had happened. You saw your phone light up on the table with a message and you took it up to see a message from Sunoo.
Sunoo: r u two done fucking now
You blushed at his message, still reeling from what had happened.
You: what??
Sunoo: you and Jungwon were clearly busy. i came near your office and heard noises. what's going on?
You: nothing! we weren't doing anything. he was just helping me with work
Sunoo: oh sure... sure... I don't believe you
You: what's that supposed to mean?
Sunoo: if you two aren't fucking, then what was that noise?
You: we were... uh... yelling at each other
Sunoo: sure... that's why he sounded like he was fucking you so hard
You: seriously sunoo, shut up
Sunoo: okay fine... I'll drop it... for now.
You rolled your eyes, knowing that there was no way you could escape from his teasing now. He was going to hound you until he got his answer and you weren't going to be able to lie to him anymore.
You let out another long sigh, still feeling the high from your orgasm as you began to clear up your desk. You knew you were in for a long night of insistent questioning from Sunoo and you had a feeling you weren't going to get much work done tonight.
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punkshort · 2 months
Note
i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?
i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂
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I hate when you're right
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.
Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene
WC: 2.5K
dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
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You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.
You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.
Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.
You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.
The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.
"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.
He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."
You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.
"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.
"They ain't practical."
You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"
His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.
"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.
"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."
He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.
"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.
"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.
Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.
"Alright, when they stop to reload-"
"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.
Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.
Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.
You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.
"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.
Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.
"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.
"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.
When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.
"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.
"Focus," he scolded.
The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.
"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.
"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.
Two against two.
When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.
You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.
"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.
Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.
One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.
Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.
He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.
You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.
"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.
Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.
"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.
"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."
"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.
"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.
"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.
"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."
"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.
"Yes, I do. I gotta-"
"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.
"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.
"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.
You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.
"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."
"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"
"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."
You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.
"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.
When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.
Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.
You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.
"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.
"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.
"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.
"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.
"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.
"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.
"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."
"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."
"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"
"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."
You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.
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pshcomforts · 2 months
Text
➳ dress | psh.
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roommate!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. jaemin & mentions of jisung from nct)
“all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting”
synopsis: after a few weeks of you and sunghoon almost kissing, tension arises between you two but you both don’t know how to approach it.
warnings/content: written in third pov. sexual tension. suggestive content towards the end. sunghoon gets jealous (are you surprised). happy ending!
comments, like, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 3.2k
a/n: part one (read here)! fictional character — min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend). valentines post! <3 tag list: @firstclassjaylee @en-chantedtomeetyou
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: dress by taylor swift
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
0:18 ──|───────────────── -3:31
a few days after the night filled with a series of events, sunghoon and y/n remained a little awkward. the two stayed unsure if they were still in the same state as that night. so much had been unraveled that they couldn’t figure out whether they wanted to remain as roommates or become more than that.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
the day was coming to an end, night taking over as y/n finally made it home with groceries in hand.
“little help?” she whined, hands shaking from heavy weight.
sunghoon stood up from the couch, quick to tend to her and take the bags away. she gave a relieving sigh and entered into the kitchen.
“you’re cooking tonight?” his low, husked voice asked while at the frame of the kitchen.
she only nodded as she felt her heart thumping from his simple words. he went near her, helping to put the groceries away as he kept his eyes careful on her.
heavy tension entered when the two stayed quiet in their movements.
“hey y/n?” he broke the stillness.
she slightly jumped, giving a hum after to his question. “i was wondering if you’d like to go to this formal ceremony with me?” sunghoon let out a harsh gulp, nervous in hearing his roommate’s answer.
“formal?” the girl questioned. “i have to wear a dress?”
her body turned to him, meeting his soft eyes as he nodded. “what’s it for?” her eyes lingered on his, a blush forming on her cheeks as the eye contact was held longer than expected.
“heeseung hyung’s having it for a celebration. he just got engaged with min-su but he wanted us to bring a date so they have an idea of who to invite to their wedding.. i was thinking i could bring you?” he answered with fidgeting fingers.
y/n had to pause for a second. “wedding..? date…?” she softly mumbled, eyes disassociating for a second in the thought of being a wedding date so soon.
“i..i know it’s soon y/n, but you’re the closest i have to a date, and heeseung hyung has been persistent.” his eyes stayed hopeful on hers. “if you’re not comfortable with it, you don’t have to though. it’s okay, i understand.”
his reassuring tone lingered in her ears, unsure if it was a good idea to go along with since they weren’t official yet. she took a tense gulp, breath uneasy as she said, “okay.. i’ll be your date.”
hoon felt his heart race as soon as her words left her mouth. he fought back a smile and thanked her, eyes fluttering with joy. “thank you y/n, i appreciate it.” the nervous boy responded.
his roommate turned her attention back to the cooking meat on the stove, hiding her smile as well as she swore her heart was gonna jump out of her chest. she let out small breaths, telling herself to calm down before he could notice.
thankfully, he didn’t as he, too, was in the same state as her. the two idiots were blushing hard at themselves while trying to pay attention to dinner preparations.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
weeks passed after the tense situation, and soon came the day that was talked about.
y/n still racked her brain in wondering if it was something to be okay with, given the fact that many things remained unsaid.
indeed nothing about this was okay, but she honestly couldn’t handle the thought of sunghoon with some other girl at the party. so there she was in ready makeup and a skintight black dress that accentuated her appearance. uneasy breaths left her mouth as she continuously checked herself in the mirror, eyes darting to make sure nothing looked wrong.
“you okay in there, y/n?” the recognizable voice said with a knock afterward. she jumped at the question, not realizing her hot roommate was already done getting ready.
“yeah! coming out now!” she yelled from the other side, hands quick to loop in an earring before opening her door.
if edits were in real life and slow motion was a thing, then it was definitely in the works between the two.
as y/n’s eyes trailed up his tall figure, she let out a noticeable gulp, licking her lips and blinking twice before simply smiling in hopes that he didn’t notice. her heart thumped at the sight of him in a black suit with a tie, matching her so easily.
hoon, on the other hand, felt himself become stiff. as soon as his eyes were laid upon her, all he could think about was how gorgeous she looked — hair in a loose updo, dangly earrings that sparkled, makeup pointing out her facial features in the best way possible. he had to make a double take, eyes careful to observe her highlighting appearance.
“you look beautiful,” he uttered in a low voice, hands on his chest with a harsh swallow in his throat.
y/n let out a breath of air, fighting back a smile as she said — “thank you.. you look really handsome too.”
the simple compliment sent butterflies to his stomach. his cheeks started to heat up and he cleared his throat. “you ready to go?” he asked, hands extending out to take hers. she nodded and gladly took it, nervously looking down.
the tall male couldn’t help but smile at how shy she had gotten, quickly taking her hand in his to give a gentle kiss on the back of it. “let’s go, gorgeous.” he whispered.
the two roommates soon went out the door with nervous butterflies.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
the car ride was quiet through it all.
hoon kept an eye on the road as y/n chose not to distract him. she bit her lips, hands shaking from holding back from him. all of this hushing tone was killing her, she wanted to give in but she knew that playing the game would be well worth it.
✩ ‘my hands are shaking from holding back from you’ ✩
as they both remained silent, the ride continued to stay in awkward stillness. and soon, they had arrived to the address inputed in the phone.
the venue had a fancy feel to it as they entered in.
when they walked towards the building, they were quickly greeted by heeseung and his soon-to-be wife, min-su.
“sunghoon, you made it!” the older boy shouted with a pat on his back. “hey y/n,” he said in a softer voice, looking at the girl in linked arms with his friend.
the girl waved back as she displayed a light smile on her face.
“couldn’t miss it for the world, hyung. congratulations to you and min-su!” hoon greeted back, smiling widely at the couple in love.
“thank you hoon,” heeseung beamed in a flustered manner.
y/n and min-su hugged in a formal meeting, having met once or twice before from the engaged man bringing her over.
“is it okay if i steal y/n away for the rest of the night?” heeseung’s fiancé asked, arms still around her.
hoon’s brows slightly furrowed at the question. “sorry sunghoon, but the girls and i were actually gonna have our own little party before having the actual celebration.” she let out an apologetic smile as she observed his facial expressions.
“it’s y/n’s decision, really.” he softly murmured with a grin on his face.
the three turned to her for her decision. she lightly bit her lip. “i’ll be with min-sh for the night.” she uttered, feeling her heart sink from truthfully wanting to be near sunghoon.
her eyes fluttered for second, quickly meeting his longing gaze as the squeals from min-su were drowned out at the sight of him.
“i’ll bring her back hoon, don’t worry!” the last of her words were said before dragging y/n off.
the male felt her hand leave his grasp. the yearning touches increasing now as she disappeared.
a soft groan was heard from him before heeseung’s words interrupted — “you’re down bad for her dude.”
hoon rolled his eyes before turning to the older male who had been observing. “whatever hyung, let’s just go to the others.”
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
for the remaining night, y/n stayed beside the exciting girl who continuously talked about her engagement, while her roommate stayed near his friend who had been going on about how lucky he was.
✩ ‘our secret moments in the crowded room’ ✩
the two were only on opposite sides of the venue yet they felt so far. eyes always meeting here and there, lingering to keep contact but eventually breaking it from the shaking excitement given from the engaged couple.
✩ ‘they got no idea about me and you’ ✩
the desperation to all of the silent pining was made clear in them. they both wanted to give in and they knew it.
yet they kept patient about waiting.
y/n wished she was near him through it all though, eyes pleading to be closer to him as she longed for his presence.
“y/n, you listening?” min-su asked.
she forced her attention back on her mutual friend. “yeah, sorry. i was just.. uhm, distracted for a second.” she responded with a shake from her head.
the girl softly snorted out laughter. “by sunghoon?” y/n’s eyes widened as her mouth let out a light spit from the champagne.
min-su giggled from the teasing. eyes crinkling into half moon crescents while muttering, “you’ve been staring at your roommate this entire night.”
y/n lowered her head in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, this is your night.” she gently said with a sweet smile.
the latter grinned back with soft eyes as she said, “don’t even worry about it! just go get a drink and enjoy yourself!”
she pushed her towards the free bar area that waited in the center; and she reluctantly obliged, feet taking small steps in an awkward manner.
once her order for an alcoholic beverage had been put in, a little ease was set into her as she observed the room in tiny details. spottings of sunghoon becoming a little more blurred than before.
“hey y/n.” a low and vaguely familiar voice spoke.
the girl’s hairs stood in the back of her neck after coming into realization of who it was. she turned towards the voice, eyes finally meeting with her ex’s friend, jaemin.
his daring eyes met hers as well, confidence built into his body language.
“oh hey jaemin, how’ve you been?” the words were barely an utter as she couldn’t get the idea of jisung out of her head now that she had been in contact with his close friend.
the guy played a soft smirk, almost friendly-like as he responded — “pretty good, i’ve been on a streak of good days you know.” his tone was sweet as his intentions came off as nothing but genuine, bringing low delight to her.
y/n gave a smile back. “that’s good to know jaemin.”
an awkward pause aired out for a few seconds before she spoke without even realizing. “so.. how’s jisung?” her heart immediately sank at just the pronunciation of his name, memories of his behavior flowing in.
jaemin stayed quiet for a few seconds, seeming a little unsure to talk on the topic.
“uhm..,” he took a noticeably large gulp before continuing, “he’s doing okay. i haven’t really talked to him since that night him and sunghoon fought.” the little words that left his mouth left a strange feeling in y/n, wishing she never asked.
a polite nod from her was made, clueless on what else to say.
“so what’s going on with you and sunghoon now? you guys together?” the male asked, eyebrows raising in curiosity.
y/n let out a light laugh, a scoff almost at the question.
as she was about to answer, she felt a sudden hand slip near her waist. the cold touch caused a jump to be made as a tall figure had appeared behind her.
“what does it matter to you?” the voice asked with a laughing scoff after.
immediately, she knew who it was.
park sunghoon.
a soft tug was made where his hands met her waist, pulling her closer as she reeled in his cologne.
the girl took a gulp before lifting her face to see how strong his gaze stayed on jaemin. his eyes basically darting at the latter who seemed genuinely confused at the random defense.
“calm down sunghoon, just wanted to know your guys’ situation. i’m not here to beat you up for hiding or anything.” he lightly joked.
the simple name call made the younger male roll his eyes. “well if you’re done talking to y/n, i think we’re gonna go now.”
his hands that were at her waist now came in contact with her wrist, harshly pulling at the girl, knowing he’d most likely express his regret for being so aggressive later.
y/n sent an apologetic look to jaemin, mouthing a ‘sorry’ towards the boy who was just left alone. her head turned back to her roommate who wasn’t bothering to meet her gaze.
the two passed by everyone else, getting to the car as soon as possible.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
the car ride was silent like earlier, nobody daring to say a word to each other.
sunghoon kept his tight grip on the wheel while the other was kept interlocked with y/n’/ hands.
it was more gentle than aggressive, though his jaw was still clenched — biting back the jealousy that boiled his possessiveness.
keys jingled as they atlas made it in. the shuffling of their movements were only heard, clothes rustling as they both remained quiet.
y/n softly tapped her fingers against her legs as her lips formed into a line. “so are we gonna talk about it?” her weak voice questioned, throat needing to be cleared from how quiet she kept herself.
she heard him give a scoff that sounded almost playful yet sincere. “yeah, i think we should,” he replied back.
the boy’s body turned to her and she gave a teasing smile. “why’d you steal me away from jaemin?” she asked, knowing the truth but still wanting to hear it come from him.
he gave a heavy sigh, eyes now avoiding hers as he said — “because i want you.”
her heart dropped at the words and her eyes blinked repeatedly, flustered at the direct answer. “yeah?” her soft voice spoke, lips automatically curling into another smile.
hoon shyly grinned back, ears turning a tinge of red as he responded in the same manner — “yeah, been wanting this..” he paused for a second, closing in the gap between them. “.. been wanting you for so long.”
his face had now come near hers, feeling each other breathe skin on skin.
y/n bit her lip, eyes searching for the same needy feeling she had in his to ensure that he did want it just as much as he proclaimed.
his thumb ghosted over her lips like the night they almost kissed, and his eyes kept going back and forth from her lips to her gaze. a smirk formed on his face as a harsh gulp was taken.
“no more quiet distance between us and no more playing the long game. i want this to happen.” his raspy voice uttered and he finally locked eyes with hers. “do you?”
y/n’s lips curled into another short grin before pulling his tie towards her for their lips to softly graze against one another. “i’m yours, sunghoon.” she whispered.
and as if it was the get-go sign, his lips finally crashed against hers. they felt time stop in motion, everything coming to a pause in their own little world as the lingering contact had them yearning.
the girl’s eyes shut from the sudden touch, feeling his lips move against hers aggressively. she tried to keep up, but the push and pull of hands moving around each others bodies were a distraction.
hoon gulped as their lips moved in harmony. tension finally melting away with the kiss.
his hands finally cupped her cheeks, staying where they were as he pulled her closer, as if there was still any gap left between them.
a groan slipped by his lips, eventually being muffled through the kiss while softly pushing her against the wall.
when air was almost out, y/n tried to pull away, only to be pulled back in by his force within a second.
a soft mumble of — “no” — was heard as he intrusively pushed his lips back on hers.
his hands slowly trailed down to her neck, lightly grasping it as his thumb was persistent on staying where her jawline was.
no agression was taken then. he only rested his hand around her neck, smiling into the kiss and being careful to not do more.
y/n felt his other hand meet her waist again, the hold on there being more tight than on the neck as she felt him pressing into her. the sudden move caused a soft moan from her to be suppressed by him.
the need to breathe again struck the girl not too along after, and she soon had her hands firmly pressing against his broad chest. “hoon..,” she softly whined with a head turn away from him.
✩ ‘say my name and everything just stops’ ✩
the boy suggestively smiled at the little hum of his name. “too much?” he teased.
his favorite girl rolled her eyes lightly hitting his chest as she mumbled — “shut up, i couldn’t breathe.”
sunghoon let out a chuckle before swooping his head in for another kiss. it was more sweet this time, but his lips still stayed on hers for a while before pulling away.
he let his hands meet hers, interlacing them with soft touches as he basically pinned her against the wall.
“such a pretty dress,” he whispered.
his eyes trailed up and down, admiring her features that had been emphasized with the dress curves. his heart was lighting up, burning almost, at every detail he was taking in of her.
the quiet whisper he uttered in her ear sent shivers down her back as her eyes closed from her heart thumping with how close he was.
“only bought this dress so you could take it off.” she hoarsely whimpered, gaze meeting his with the craving for more.
hoon’s eyes slightly widened but quickly challenged hers with the same daring look. his lips gently wavered into a smile. hands that were holding hers were now being tugged as he guided her to the room.
y/n stayed near him once reaching to the desired place, fingertips lingering around his hair while his hands reached around the back of her dress.
“is this okay?” he groaned, lips slightly parting and thick brows scrunching in pleasure.
she softened at his question. “of course it is.” the girl pulled him to her so their lips could meet for another gentle kiss before his warm hands unzipped her dress and more.
she did buy the dress for him to take it off after all.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
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murdockparker · 1 month
Text
Expectations
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: While the honeymoon may be well and over, the new Mrs. Bridgerton has yet to make her presence in the ton since the wedding. Anxious as ever, she listens to her husband and gives it a go.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader is not pregnant, reader does not wish to be a mother, illusions to sex but no smut, drinking and drunkenness, fluffy fluff
A/N: Given the setting and time period, not wanting children is rather taboo, I feel. But not everyone wishes to be a mom and that's okay! I hope I did Benedict (and reader!!) justice!
__
On a far too quiet night in London, candles were beginning to grow short, along with the patience of a newly made missus.
“Must I go tomorrow?” (Y/N) sighed, turning to face her husband in earnest, placing her hairbrush on the vanity. 
“And possibly insult Lady Danbury again this season?” Benedict scoffed, looking up from his sketchbook. He had been making good on his earlier promise of the eve, giving his wife a worthwhile portrait. He had already made countless, of course, but this one was to be the best yet. “Darling you cannot keep avoiding her forever."
“Here I thought that was a Bridgerton specialty,” (Y/N) hummed, turning back to her mirror, keen to note Benedict’s crooked smirk in the reflection. “But if you insist that I cut our honeymoon short—”
“You know better than I that our honeymoon is well and over,” Benedict said, suddenly at his wife’s side, hands growing restless on her shoulders. “As much as it pains me to admit, and it does, truly, the rest of the ton is far too eager to make the newest Mrs. Bridgertons acquaintance.”
Kisses were peppered down her neck, just below her ear, warm and sticky enough to halt her thinking. “Life was much easier in the country,” she reminisced fondly. The lady was unsure if the fact her husband was making dutiful work on her skin was clouding her judgment, but her mind yearned for the weeks they had spent in bed, alone and carefree. “No need for this… fodder.”
“Ah to be a woman in the season,” Benedict jested, brushing her hair aside. “But I do think it’s a right idea to go to the soiree. If it makes you feel better, I do believe the duchess is planning to attend.”
(Y/N) groaned, pushing Benedict away. “Just as you begin to seduce your wife you find it fair to mention your younger sister?” 
He could only laugh. “I was unaware I was seducing my wife, I merely thought I was helping with her hair.”
“And the fine work on my neck was helpful... how?”
His fingers brushed through her hair again, slowly, deliberately. “Well, considering I was partially to blame for it’s unruliness, I figured I could only offer my services. I fear it came across as unhelpful.”
She fought back a grin. “I will go to Lady Danbury’s soiree,” (Y/N) said, looking Benedict in the eyes through the mirror. “But only if you promise to assist with the rest of my… hair.”
“What kind of a husband would I be if I refused?”
The carriage ride was as uneventful as she could have imagined. Not only did she loathe the rocking of the cab, but to not have Benedict’s company across from her—or under her—made the entire ordeal less appealing. Still, she persisted through the boredom and arrived to Danbury House, fashionably on time. 
“Mrs. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury greeted, flicking her cane towards the not-so-new bride. “How lovely you managed to pry yourself from your cottage in the country and rejoin proper society.”
“Lady Danbury,” (Y/N) bowed, smiling as politely as she could. “You think little of me, I would never dare to miss one of your illustrious eves. My mother always spoke fondly of them—as truthful as she decided to be with me, that is.”
“A shame your mother isn’t joining us, those nasty headaches of hers will surely do her in.”
“Father sent for a tea from France,” (Y/N) recalled from her last correspondence with her parents. “I believe it was a recommendation from you, if I am not mistaken?”
“Your parents would do well from listening to me from time to time, I should hope you take the same advice,” Lady Danbury smiled, looking directly at (Y/N), gaze narrowing. “Do enjoy yourself tonight, dear. One tends to forget oneself whilst in a marriage.”
A footman ushered her into the great hall, handfuls of married women of the ton flocked to the walls, drinks already in hand. A few familiar faces flitted her memory as she walked past. Lady Green and Mrs. Harrison, both far too eager to set her up with their respective sons in the last season, smiled kindly as she nodded towards them. Dowager Countess Fairbanks was eagerly replacing her empty glass with another, the loss of Earl Fairbanks was still fresh in the public eye, it seemed. Then, there was Lady Kent, smoking away in the corner, grateful no men were around to stop such nonsense.
“Mrs. Bridgerton! I did not expect to see you here!”
(Y/N) turned to the cheery voice, belonging only to the Duchess Hastings herself.
“Your Grace,” (Y/N) smirked, addressing her sister-in-law properly.
“Daphne,” the duchess corrected, as she had many a time during (Y/N)’s courtship with Benedict. “I must say, I hardly think anyone expected your presence tonight. Surely my brother couldn’t have found it in himself to allow you to escape for the evening easily.”
“I shall spare you the sordid details of my trickery,” (Y/N) said with a murmur, her voice laced with a secret. “Considering they involve your brother and whatever little clothing he possessed.”
“Oh please,” Daphne waved. “You are married, I hardly think it is much to guess you and Benedict have been in such a state thus far.”
“If I may be so honest,” (Y/N) giggled, accepting a flute of a bubbly drink from a server, “he was the one who begged me to attend this evening. I was more of the mind to stay in and continue to enjoy our library here in London.”
“I did not know Benedict’s bachelor lodgings possessed a library.”
“They did not, which is why we purchased a new estate not too far from your Mama’s,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “‘Bachelor no more’, I believe were his exact words when he showed me the deed. It’s quite a lovely place. If I did not prefer the country so much I think I would like to stay here year-round.”
“I expect an invitation for tea sometime, then,” Daphne cooed, clearly overjoyed at her new sister’s happiness. “I assume there’s an adequate number of rooms?”
“Enough for a proper studio for Benedict’s leisure, a modest library for myself, an enchanting dining room and…” Her glass raised to her lips nervously. “I believe that to be all.”
“No nursery, then?”
“You Bridgertons and baby-rearing,” (Y/N) said, nearly sputtering her drink. “I say, you’re already on baby three, is that not correct?”
Daphne nearly radiated with joy at the mere mention of her children—a doting mother in every regard. “Oh yes, number three will be joining us in due time,” her hand grazing over her apparent bump. “But I believe you neglected to answer my question.”
“I think I am in need of far more drink to even entertain the question, dear sister,” (Y/N) downed the rest of her drink, hoping the dim lighting did an adequate job hiding her growing flush. 
“Very well,” Daphne conceded, still holding her small bump as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I believe Kate has begun in the game room if you wish to join me in finding her?”
“Spending my night with my darling new sisters? Without my husband or your brothers to muck up our conversations and vex us? I must say, that might be your best idea yet, Your Grace. 
The duchess merely laughed as she led present company into the ballroom—now outfitted with many tables to accommodate the games of the night’s festivities. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by the sheer sight of it all. Wives and widows alike, smoking and drinking over every inch of the transformed ballroom.
“I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to come to many of these things,” she shuddered in awe, leaning closer to Daphne.
“I haven’t,” Daphne said truthfully. “I’m usually back at Clyvedon with my family, it just so happens I’m in town on other business this go around to not ignore Lady Danbury.”
While it was difficult to get the Bridgertons all under one roof—with each new marriage and child that task became even more daunting—the brood did get together recently to celebrate the christening of both Edmund and Belinda. Anthony’s first and Daphne’s second. It wasn’t much of a shock that Daphne shared the news of a third Basset at the christening, either.
“Regardless,” (Y/N) took her place at a game table, sitting beside the duchess. “I’d much appreciate the evening to move swiftly, lest I spend more time away from home than I need.”
“Eager to get back in the bedroom with Benedict?”
The new Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate, spoke up behind the ladies as she took it upon herself to be seated next to her sisters.
“I was thinking more along the lines of his study,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling herself grow warm with honesty. “Perhaps our library? We do have a handful of new rooms to enjoy and christen, I think.”
“I recall making a similar promise to Anthony after our honeymoon,” Kate reminisced, smiling wickedly. “Makes me miss such a time in my marriage.”
“Miss a time?” (Y/N) laughed, accepting a drink from a roaming server. “You and Anthony only have been wed a bit over a year. Surely the flame has not died out?”
“No, no, not died out,” Kate quickly corrected. “It’s just, now with Edmund in our care, our flame has dimmed a bit—exhaustion keeps us both at bay to get at it like we once did.”
“Simon and I had a similar take after Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne chimed in. 
“Yet here you are, awaiting your third child in three years,” Kate barked with laughter.
“As you said, sister,” Daphne sipped her lemonade, “it merely dimmed.”
If her face had blanched, the dim lighting of the game room had the entire part of disguising her discomfort at the idea—the mere idea that her want for Benedict could possibly wane. 
“Dimmed,” (Y/N) repeated. 
“Say, it’s been a few months since your wedding,” Kate noted, “do you and Benedict have plans for children soon? I expect with your new house a nursery is just begging to be filled.”
A polite laugh escaped her lips, humor long forgotten. “We haven’t much discussed the matter of children.”
“Oh, come off it!” Kate admonished. “Surely you and your husband want to aid in the Bridgerton grandchildren numbers? I recall Anthony mentioning an old wager between them on who would have the most children."
“A wager—you’re not serious?” 
“Oh, that was merely a jest between brothers, I’m sure,” Daphne said, placing her steady hand on (Y/N)’s. Even in the candlelight, she could tell her newest sister-in-law was having no part in this conversation. “And knowing my brothers, it cannot be held to any regard.”
“Anthony seemed serious enough about it when I was carrying Edmund,” Kate shrugged. “No matter! We are here to play cards, yes?”
It was hard to pay attention to the game at hand—literally. With doubt and endless thoughts swimming through the new Mrs Bridgerton’s head, her glass never emptied and her mind never ceased. She won a sizable amount of money somehow—Daphne mumbled something along the lines of ‘rotten cards’ as she pushed the notes and coins to (Y/N)’s pot. 
“You’re sure you do not wish to spend the night here?” Lady Danbury offered much later in the evening, just as nearly every guest had left. Only the Bridgerton ladies remained. “I can have a guest room made up in a blink.”
“Ben will be anxious for my arrival,” (Y/N) slurred, trying to remain upright. “I shan’t keep him waiting.”
“I thought we intercepted enough of her drinks,” Daphne whispered, words only meant for Kate.
“She must have snuck a few on her way to the chamberpot,” the viscountess realized, albeit a bit too late. 
“I can handle my drinks just fine,” (Y/N) said, trying to cross her arms. It only took her two attempts. “Honestly, I just want to get home to my husband, thank you.”
“I will ride with her to her estate,” Daphne offered, already getting in (Y/N)’s carriage. “My carriage will follow close behind and I will retreat as soon as I see her enter her home safely.”
“What a good sister you are,” (Y/N) cooed, hand cupping Daphne’s face lovingly. “I wish I had a sister like you.”
“If you remember anything, let it be this, please just write to me in the morning,” Kate sighed, giving up hope on the cause. “Lest you want an angry visit from me tomorrow after you break your fast.”
“Get home safe,” (Y/N) listed, “write to Kate, do not make her angry. I think I got it.”
“Perhaps we should pin a note to her dress?” Lady Danbury laughed.
“I shall tell one of the maids to remind her,” Daphne said. “So she has no excuse.”
“You lot are being awfully nice to me,” (Y/N) said, stepping up into the carriage. The footmen were doing most of the work. “Nicer than I deserve right about now.”
“You’re family,” Kate said simply. “Besides, I reckon we have a part to play on just how much you’ve drank…”
“Quite,” Daphne nodded. (Y/N) began to look rather green. “Lady Danbury, I don’t suppose you have a pot or vase you don’t care much about?”
Wordlessly, a butler came running, holding a rather ornate bowl in his hands. After passing it off to the duchess, (Y/N) took it quickly and held it close to her head. 
“Do make sure Mrs. Bridgerton cleans it thoroughly before returning it.”
The sunlight hurt. 
In all of her years on this planet, the sunlight had never hurt as much as it did in this moment. A errant afternoon in the park, perhaps, leaving her skin a tad bit warm to the touch, but never did it sting like this.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Benedict sighed, walking over to her side of the bed. When had she gotten in bed?
“Unfortunately,” (Y/N) groaned, somehow managing to pull herself up to be seated. Her husband—doting as he was—had a tray of food and a pitcher of water waiting for her. “What’s this?”
“Charcoal,” Benedict tried his best to make it sound appetizing. By the look on his wife’s face, it had failed. “I had Cook mix it with some marmalade on bread to help with the taste. You need to sop up the booze somehow, love.”
“I didn’t drink that much,” (Y/N) lied, knowing full well she couldn’t fool even herself with it.
“I have never seen you in such a state,” Benedict nearly whispered, setting the silver tray on her lap. “I already sent correspondence to Daphne to thank her for insuring you got home safely.”
She took a hesitant bite of the bread. It wasn’t as awful as she imagined. Left much to be desired, sure, but it would do the job.
“I sent to Kate,” Benedict continued. “Told her you would meet her for tea later this week, as you obviously needed your sleep this morning.”
Another bite of the bread managed to go down before she reached for the glass of water in Benedict’s hand. “Thank you for that.”
“I’m still at a loss, however,” Benedict sighed. “What exactly went on at Danbury House?”
“I believe I need far more charcoal bread to entertain that conversation.”
“(Y/N).”
“It was a ladies night,” she chewed, trying her best to swallow her bite. “I cannot share what lewd gossip possibly came from it.”
He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, beginning to wring his wrists mindlessly as he searched for the correct words to say. She hadn’t seen him do it since the day he proposed. Benedict Bridgerton was anxious.
“You said something, last night,” he finally confessed.
“I reckon I said a lot last night,” (Y/N) laughed lightly, polishing off her unfortunate breakfast.
“As I was trying to get you into bed, you kept mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense,” Benedict smirked lightly, “most of it made me laugh.”
“Glad to be a never-ending source of your entertainment.”
“You mentioned something about a baby.”
She didn’t dare look up at him.
“A few times, actually,” Benedict said. “Now, I don’t know what came of it, perhaps Daphne’s new addition sparked such an interest or you are with child now but—”
“But you wish for a baby,” (Y/N) finished for him, clasping her hands together. “Soon, yes?”
“What?”
“You purchased a new estate,” her hand motioned to their large bedchamber, “with various new rooms to fill with Bridgerton babies. A nursery already set up by our staff is only just down the hall. It’s only natural you expect that of me, given our honeymoon is over.”
“I bought our new home because my bachelor lodgings had nothing you loved,” Benedict corrected. “You yourself said you wished for an extensive library—I merely acted on those wishes.”
“Everyone expects us to have a baby soon,” (Y/N) groans, head in her hands. “All night I kept getting bombarded with questions and speculations about it! Most of it came from my very own family! Sure, I can handle a bit of gossiping from ladies who have nothing better to talk about, but my new family?”
“I had no idea—”
“It was the sole reason I had no desire to go last eve!” (Y/N) finally shouted, as if she meant to reach the heavens. “I know what is expected of me as a wife but what if—what if I don’t wish for that?”
“You do not wish for children?”
“No!” (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, maybe? Augh! I do not know!”
Benedict’s weight shifted on the bed, having now sat by his wife’s legs. “You do not need to know.”
“Of course I do,” she gasped. “I was raised for two things—to marry a respectable man and to have his respectable babies. One of those things I accomplished without much of a second thought—” 
“I’m glad you thought so little about marrying me,” Benedict jested.
“That is not what I meant and you know it.”
“It made you smile, so I think the comment was well worth it.”
It had made her smile, she realized. The near-permanent frown of the morning seemed to have eased away with her husband’s jest.
“Every time someone asked me about it,” (Y/N) finally admitted, “I found another drink to drown myself in. I don’t believe anyone but perhaps Daphne really saw what was happening.”
“Does the idea of children really cause you such anguish?”
“It’s just—we’re so happy now,” (Y/N) took Benedict’s hand in her own. “I don’t want to muck up the joy and elation we have in each other by bringing a baby into the mix so soon.”
“We never really spoke on the topic,” Benedict said. “In our courtship, I mean. Usually a topic such as that one finds its way onto the stage, but somehow we evaded it.”
She held her breath.
“Truth be told, I never really gave children much of a thought, if at all,” Benedict chuckled, “far too interested in other pursuits. But, that’s not to say such a topic hasn’t been on my mind of late.”
“Has it?”
“Well, with my new nieces and nephew running around—crawling, I suppose—it may have sparked interest in me, yes,” Benedict looked directly at his wife. “But, for all intents and purposes, having a child requires two people and if you have any hesitancy in the topic—no matter little or seemingly small—I do not wish to further the endeavor.”
“What if I am never ready?” Her voice was small, the sound nearly dissolving against the down of the bedding.
“Then we will live a perfectly happy life regardless. You with your books and me with my paint,” Benedict squeezed her hand. Full of love, full of support. “More importantly, we will live such a happy life together.”
Perhaps it was the headache, or the pain from the bright morning sun, but (Y/N) felt the tears she had been holding back finally spill down her cheeks. Without even a second thought, Benedict pulled her into his arms and allowed her to cry, rubbing her back with thoughtful circles. He had somehow already moved the tray out of the way, as if he was preparing for a reaction like this. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone could ever plan to know her. This thought only made her cry harder.
“What did I do to deserve you?” (Y/N) asked no one in particular, sniffling as she tried to compose herself. 
“I rather think I should be asking you that,” Benedict said softly, kissing her brow.
“You truly do not care if I never decide to want children?” (Y/N) asked again, needing to hear her husband’s answer one more time.
“You could decide tomorrow and change your mind a hundred times and I will always be in your corner,” Benedict said seriously. “That is what a husband does. That is what I do for you.”
She smiled.
“Although, I will need to take special care in ensuring you do not become with child accidentally—we’ve been lucky thus far, but I do not consider myself much of a betting man…”
“Were the races last week an oversight, then?”
“Ah, but that was a sure thing,” Benedict snuggled her closer, “what was merely a point to best my brother ended up with us having a healthy amount of spending money! More paints and books in our possession. A win-win if I ever saw one.”
“Kate mentioned something last night,” (Y/N) tried her best to look up at Benedict, but his tight embrace made it difficult. “Something about a bet you and Anthony had regarding children?”
“Oh,” his cheeks flushed, “that.”
“So it is true?”
“In the sense we made such a bet? Yes,” Benedict nodded. “But we made that bet years ago—back when the only idea of us having children regarded heirs for the title, never fathoming we’d do it out of love.”
“What did you wager?”
Benedict smiled, finally pulling away from his wife to look at her directly. “Five pounds.”
“That is all?” She nearly shrieked with laughter. “With such a serious bet I truly would have thought you would have put more on the wager.”
“I suppose I am still expected to pay up one day,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I shall gift it to him on Edmund’s eighteenth birthday?”
She smiled at the thought. “I think that would make an excellent present.”
“Because even if we are to have any children,” Benedict continued, “and that is still very much up in the air, surely Anthony and Kate will be constantly going at it to rival my dear Mama for the title of most Bridgerton babes.”
“Giving him a win regardless,” (Y/N) said. “I believe you’re right.”
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel this way about children,” Benedict said, “I never want you to feel as if your voice does not matter. We are equals in this marriage—partners—in every sense of the word.”
“I may one day change my mind,” (Y/N) amended, choosing her words carefully. “But as of right now, I think we’re perfectly suited the way we are.”
“Well suited, indeed,” he agreed, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “But, I do think this morning calls for a bath—as much as I adore your natural musk, my love, I already had the staff begin to warm water up for you.”
She took a moment to sniff herself. She smelled of sick, smoke and booze. How Benedict was not repulsed was beyond her. “Oh. I suppose a bath is… ideal.”
He rose from the plush bed, outstretching his hand for his wife to take.
“A bath for two, I should mention,” he grinned wickedly. A grin she had loved from the minute she met him. A grin that made her feel wanted and safe, all in the same breath.
She took his hand.
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
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that’s just the way things go * femdriver
when her and logan crash out in a race, well, now what?
pairings: sebastian vettel x femdriver, logan sargeant x femdriver
warnings: accidents, car crash
notes: i warned you all.
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
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-> canada, 2024
"ready, kid? one minute until the race starts," she hears sebastian in her ears. "everything good?"
she looks around her, trying to look at the grandstands with what little vision the halo provides her. typically, she'd not be able to hear the crowd cheering. but either something is up with her earphones, or one of her senses has heightened.
there has been an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she's not been able to shake off since she landed. there's a ringing in her head that's persistent all weekend.
"are you there?"
"yes, i'm sorry," she says quickly, perking up at the confusion in sebastian's words. "everything’s good.”
“is everything okay? you’ve had this worried look on your face all day,” sebastian states. “are you nervous? starting in the second row for the first time in f1?"
she looks to her side, noticing the ferrari mechanics working on charles’ car. she sighs and looks right up ahead at max’s red bull in front of her. diagonal to her is oscar’s car. “maybe it’s that. maybe i’m just nervous.”
“don’t worry about it, kid. i’ll be here.” she gets a feel for her steering wheel — the same one she’s had since she started last year. but for some reason, it didn’t feel great in her hands today.
her steering wheel doesn’t fit her palm today.
“let’s try and fight with the front row, alright? don’t let max get too far ahead.”
she breathes as the mechanics start to disperse. “i told max to always check his side view mirrors now that i’m behind him.”
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she drives out of the pitlane, watching the car passing her before she rejoins the track. "who is that in the williams? is that alex or logan?"
"logan," sebastian says. "he's got good pace, but you're faster than him. you can overtake him whenever you see fit."
"how much faster than him? can i overtake him this lap?" she asks.
"up to your discretion. if you think you've got enough pace to catch him eventually – you have the fresher tires."
"okay."
she tries, trying her best to catch up to the williams car. she grunts under her breath, stretching her shoulders as she braces herself to fight logan on the track again.
she smiles. she hasn't fought logan on the track in a while so this is a very nice change of scenery. she tries to fight it fair and square, but she's noticed – only now – that he's developed a different driving style from the one she's used to.
she concedes about three corners into the lap, trying to get used to logan's driving style before she makes the decision to pull an overtaking move that would push logan out of the podium spot. which, realistically, she doesn't want to do if she had the choice.
maybe she should just let logan have the podium? she's already had one for herself last year in singapore after all. but no, she can't do that. there's always been a mutual understanding that whatever happens on the track should be a separate entity from their friendship.
if she concedes and lets him have the podium, despite knowing that she could very well beat him on the track, she is lying to herself and logan. and oscar, who is ahead of logan.
whatever happens on the track, stays on the track.
she always comes close, only to have to pull away from the early braking point that logan seems to be pulling at.
"seb, i can't find an opportunity to get past logan," she speaks, turning on the radio. "i need you to help me out. he went to the alex albon school of defending, apparently."
sebastian laughs. "okay, just keep trailing behind him. i'll let you know when."
"okay."
the uneasiness has managed to creep up into her body again. she feels her grip around the steering wheel falter, and her legs lock up on her as she tries chasing after him. logan manages to keep her behind him for a couple of laps, probably 3 or 4 if she remembers it correctly.
but there's a corner that logan runs too wide. she changes gears, suddenly changing her mind about slowing down and taking it slow, stepping on the gas pedal and taking a dive between the williams and the side of the track.
"beautiful overtake, kid," sebastian speaks into her ears. "he's still very close. keep the position until the flag if you can."
"i'm not chasing oscar?" she frowns, glancing at her side mirror. "i can shake logan off at the series of corners ahead, i'm sure."
"okay, but no risky moves. play it safe because you're already guaranteed for a podium at this rate."
and she holds off logan, for the better part of the next lap. they've been fighting head to head for a while until she turns into the corner, deeper than she typically would have done to throw logan off. but it seems that he's caught up with her games because he's directly next to her.
but she's already trying to go for the next corner while his car is still trying to finish the previous one. and it happens very quickly.
his left front wheel is caught slightly by her right rear, sending both of them off track. and because she was going a little faster than him, she’s spinning out at a much quicker rate than he is.
she shuts her eyes, feeling her car being flung onto surface that doesn't feel like the track anymore. she lets go of the steering wheel and bunches herself up. why is she still spinning? it shouldn't be taking this long.
until she feels the car come to a rude halting stop, the side of her car completely buried into the barriers of the track. she heaves as she tries to process her crash. it isn't as bad as her crash the year before, head first into the barrier in the streets of baku at 200 kilometres an hour.
but she does know one thing. she doesn't know if this is what she's been dreading all day, but she's furious. despite the ringing in her ears and the growing pain in one side of her body, she starts climbing out of the car.
"are you okay?" she hears sebastian asking her.
she doesn't respond. she reaches up for the halo of her car to pull herself up and climbs out of the car. she's on too much adrenaline now that the crash happened. the pain is absolutely nothing to her right now.
she unclips her helmet and yanks it off along with her balaclava, approaching the blue car in the gravel next to hers. logan is already out of the car, slowly approaching her.
"it’s o-"
she throws her arms into the air. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"
logan tilts his head, only taking off his helmet now. "what?"
“yeah, what is wrong with you? you ruined our fucking race!” she scream, flailing her arms in the air. “why did you do that? you knew there was another corner i had to make a sharp turn for!”
“you went deep! you accelerated way too soon.”
“no, you hit your brakes way too soon! now we’re here! i don’t get my podium and you don’t get your fucking points either!” she turns away from him, wiping her face on the sleeves of her racesuit in frustration. “fuck you, logan!”
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a soft knock lands on the door, immediately being pushed open to reveal sebastian with a small smile. he has a paper bag in his hand and lifts it up to show her. “how are you feeling, kid?”
“fine,” she answers firmly, looking down at her phone. “have you seen liam? he’s supposed to be back with my twix bars by now.”
“he’s on his way back from the paddocks,” sebastian nods. “logan’s doing okay. mild concussion, from what james told me out in the hallway.”
she looks up from her phone, the anger in her eyes very prominent. it almost makes sebastian wish he hadn’t said anything in the first place. she furrows her eyebrows. “i don’t remember asking how logan is.”
“oh. you don’t want to know?”
“no.” she promptly goes back to texting on her phone, shaking her head. sebastian walks deeper into her room, careful not to agitate her more.
she puts her phone down on her lap and looks up. she takes a deep breath. “why would he do that, seb? not only did he ruin his own race, but he also ruined mine! why would he do that?”
sebastian shrugs. “i don’t know. i’m sorry. i’m sorry you had to retire from the race, kid. but it’s not his fault. things like these happen, you know?”
“not to me! not to us!” she rolls her eyes. “he’s so reckless for that! do you not think so?”
sebastian hums, patting her hand. “calm down, kid. i know you’re angry. but you and logan have been competing with one another half of your lives. don’t be like this.”
she shakes her head, moving her hand away from sebastian’s touch. she folds her arms over her chest. “he needs to apologise for ruining my race.”
“we’ll watch the playback later, okay? don’t jump into conclusions now. don’t ruin your friendship.”
“you’re saying there was possibility i caused the accident?”
“i don’t know yet. i immediately came to your side after the accident,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “please just get some rest. worry about this later.”
the door opens, revealing liam with mick trailing behind him. “oh, hey, logan’s-“
mick cuts himself short when sebastian’s head snaps to him, shaking his head profusely. mick’s lips form an ‘o’ shape as he slowly puts his attention to the silently raging girl on the hospital bed.
“we got your twix bars!”
“and a pepsi!” liam cheers, dancing over to her with a straw in his other hand. “blythe said she’s on the phone your parents, but once she’s done, she’ll come right back up here.”
she nods, returning her attention to her phone. she scoffs at the notification at the top of her screen, a text message from logan rolling in.
i’m not apologising this time
she scoffs and puts her phone down. she reaches out to liam. “give me my stupid pepsi.”
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kumezyzo · 3 months
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pt.2 to this angsty bullshit
gojo satoru becomes pathetic when he finds out someone is not in love with him. you saw it when he broke up with his first fling after Suguru died. he was sobbing, his blue eyes now red. his nose was running and completely stuffed with snot.
it had broken your heart to see him so distraught. it was almost as worse as the night he and Suguru fought. almost. but it wasn't nearly as bad as when he realized he loved Suguru. now that... that was pathetic. no, pathetic wasn't the word for it. it was tragic.
that night he clung to you. he wailed, and his body shook with grief and regret. god, he had loved suguru. and he had no idea. he couldn't even tell him now. but as much as he hurt, you hurt more.
"i-i lo-oved h-h-him," he cried into your neck, his arms squeezing around your waist. your heart panged as tears came to your eyes. "g-god how did i n-not see it!"
"maybe you subconsciously thought he... didn't love you back," you reasoned, trying to hold back the wobble in your voice.
"i... i jus-st want him b-back," he let out another sob as you pursed your lips and shut your eyes tight. you rubbed his back soothingly as tears fell from your own eyes. "do you think h-he would have l-loved me ba-ack?"
you nodded, "yeah... i think he did."
"w-what if i... what if i-i pushed h-him away cause i di-didn't tell him! " he said, the idea making him cry harder.
"satoru," you started, opening your eyes. more eyes fell from your eyes. "it's hard not to love you."
he's not sure why it took him so long to realize what you meant by that. but it hit him like a truck. he felt like a fucking idiot. especially now that you were starting to see someone.
the worst part was that he set you up with them. but not just anyone. nanami kento.
you had been hesitant at first. one reason was because he was always the reserved, snarky but polite underclassman. there was no way the date would end with you two wanting another date. the second reason was that you wanted to hold out for satoru. maybe he'd change his mind and realize he loved you, like he had with suguru. but you came to your senses and caved.
and to your (and nanami's) suprise, the date went incredibly well. it started off with either of you shitting on satoru's persistence. then you actually started hitting it off. and one date turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into your relationship.
and now satoru was angry at himself. how did he just let you go? he had done it again. he had fallen in love with his best friend and realized far too late. and for the first time, he didn't have anyone to go running to.
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i think this is gonna be the last part. hope yall enjoyed the angst. inbox and requests are open aa always -nony
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masuchu · 4 months
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“𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄” [GENSHIN MEN]
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what puppy traits do your genshin boyfriends have? ‧₊˚
genre. fluff!! so fluffy it hurts
characters. kaeya, zhongli, wriothesley
love, masu. guys this was originally meant to have so many more characters TwT then i just made it all of my bf’s ugh can you blame me 😞 lmk if you want a pt. 2 !!
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(凯亚) 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 ‧₊˚
We all know Kaeya has the attention span of a overexcited pup, so it’s not at all surprising that he ditches his paperwork and comes to bother you with licks, bites and love!
When you’re occupied, he pokes you for attention. When you’re mad, he nibbles on your neck to tame you. And when you’re being cute, he pounces on you and teases you about your adorable expressions.
Follows you around, but not like a lost puppy. No, more like a puppy on a mission. He has to be wherever you are, because how else is he going to entertain himself and bother you? Alone? Impossible!
He knows you love it, too. He’ll flirt with you and test your patience, saying in his delectable voice, “Oh, you hate me? Your heartbeat says otherwise~”
Lovestruck when you decide to return his irritating antics! Bite him back, fight fire with fire? Oh, his eyes burst out of their sockets! But beware, once he’s over his devoted haze, he doubles his teases. Triples, in some cases. What? You wouldn’t have fought back if you didn’t want to start a war!!
All in all, he really is a loveable little puppy. A hopelessly jarring one? Yes, but a loveable one all the same.
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘:
“Hah! A puppy? Cute. However, I recall you mentioning last week just how much you love and adore puppies, am I wrong? Does that mean, perhaps, it is the same case for I? Ah, love, I’m truly flattered~”
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(钟离) 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ‧₊˚
A devoted puppy. Not so much a golden retriever, but more like a guide dog. Wants to assist you in all ways he can, admire you silently, and remain with you always.
He stays firmly, yet loosely at your side almost all the time. A hand gripped on your waist, the remnants of bites littered along your neck, his chin on your shoulder while you work.
How can he help it? He knows exactly what you need (at least he thinks he does), he must tend to you at all hours of the day. There have been countless occasions of him cancelling your appointments without permission, all for time with you.
It’s hard to resist him when his reasonings are so romantic! Sometimes you question wether he has some form of separation anxiety, but you have come to realise it is more of a separation dislike.
He aids you on what to buy at the market at Liyue Harbour, will not be offended when you choose something else. He will praise your taste in tea, and keep a loyal hand on your waist the entire walk home. 
He will tell you about the history of Liyue, how the age-old flowers resemble you. You smile. It sets him at ease. A tender pup, lives to make you happy.
A surprisingly clingy pup, too. Sometimes you wake up with arm weaved around your body like the finest linen, some days, his entire top half is pressed right onto your chest! His excuse is that he must have gotten cold in the night, but you know he adores holding you.
He is an irresistible puppy, it is hard to stay mad at him. His handsome face, his perfectly chosen words… ugh!
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘:
“Oh? I have never been compared to such an animal. I am… intrigued. Please, tell me what about me resembles the creature.”
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(莱欧斯利) 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 ‧₊˚
Wriothesley swears that he is not a jealous, nor a particularly nervous or anxious lover. If so, why does he seem to inch closer to you and let out what seems to be a growl whenever a potential threat comes close you to you?
(What he deems to be a potential threat, anyways.)
He is such a cute, little guard dog! Hellbent on protecting you when it matters, and equally as persistent on keeping you all to himself when it is probably not that necessary!
He nibbles your skin on occasion, too. Gentle nips, flirtatious and teasing, and painstakingly canine! He does not shy away from admitting that he wants to mark you, either! Tells you plainly, and grins at your blush.
Having to spend almost all of his time at the Fortress of Meropide, it is often that a messenger is sent up above land to collect you under the pretences of ‘The Duke has a very important matter he would like to discuss with you.’ Yeah right.
You are met with the same cheeky grin when you waltz into his office; full of need, puppy-like excitement that he somehow manages to keep down, but slightly begging and desperate.
Like Zhongli, he is a tending puppy. He likes to watch your every, minuscule reaction to certain teas, his kisses, jokes he makes, etc. He makes countless mental notes, and always knows how to be a dutiful pup!
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘:
“A puppy, huh? I’ve been called many things, but that is certainly new for me. Though, I don’t hate the idea of being your guard dog, it gives me an excuse to have you with me at all times…”
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2024 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!
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