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sugamamacustard · 4 years ago

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Let Me Help You (Part. 2)

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Issei Matsukawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Takahiro Hanamaki x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Oh boy, here we go!

Anon: hi!! can we get more of the omega depression drabbles/one shots? i would really like to see mattsun’s version and other characters you can think of!! the more angsty the better ;)p.s. luv your writing <3 also stay healthy, safe, and drink water !!

Anon: Can you make part 2 of let me help you please. if not it’s fine with Mattsun and Makki

Anon: Could you do part 2 for the let me help you with makki and mattsun please if not that’s fine this is also my first time requesting something so i’m kinda nervous💕

(Don’t be nervous at all, you did amazing!)

Anon: Mamas, can I order a continuation of let me help you?? Please?? I need some fluff after that hurt 💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺

(Mamas anon! :DDD)

Anon: omg i love the omega depression!! please continue with the rest of the third years or a pt 2 with oikawa’s !! i love your writing!!

@bohica160: Could we possibly get a part 2 with Oikawa please? 👉 👈 🥺

And I think that was all? You guys just really wanted this, and who am I to deny you?

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Author’s Note: I kinda wanna post some self-indulgent OC stuff on here, but idk. It’s kinda crack-y and stupid. Also, we love to see a healthy relationship. Like Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s are so soft. Also, also, please note Hanamaki’s is heavily based off of my own experience with depression and the events after with my best friend, whom I will love and cherish forever.

Requests: Open!

Part 1: Here!

➵ You drop was actually out of anyone’s control.

➵ Omega drops rely heavily on hormone balances, much like depression, and it seemed like this month just wasn’t your month.

➵It was hard to exactly pin point when it got bad, or when you started experiencing symptoms, as they were slow and not necessarily noticeable.

➵A missed lunch here, a small scent shift there.

➵Small things that neither you nor Takahiro would notice.

➵It was much like a rollercoaster, inching higher and higher until the drop would come.

➵ Honestly, both of you thought you were fine, and since you were around both of your mutual friends (The Seijoh Team) enough no one could really point it out.

➵ It truly was a bad situation all around.

➵ You only really began noticing after a few days of ignoring lunch in a row.

➵ It hit you when you were sitting in the library, stomach clutching with hunger as you scanned through a textbook.

➵ You attempted to get up and go find Takahiro to go get something to eat, but you just...didn’t.

➵ You couldn’t find the energy to stand, much less walk, and just stayed seated

➵ You just couldn’t move.

➵Like a million bags of sand were tied to your hips weighing you to the chair.

➵ You swallowed tightly, rolling your shoulders before stuffing your text book into your bag, trying to breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.

➵Deep breaths. Thats what you needed to focus on right now.

➵ But then you couldn’t. You were hyperventilating, and white-knuckling the edge of the table as your vision turned blurry and watery.

➵ The cramping from your hunger combined with the sudden rush of emotions made you want to vomit.

➵ Before you could, you slung your backpack over your shoulder, bolting out of the library.

___

Laughter and chuckles were heavy as Takahiro gave a hearty chuckle at something Matsukawa said, shaking his head before taking a swig from his energy drink. His eyes darted to his phone every now and again, just checking to make sure you didn’t need him.

You would always come first to him.

When his screen lit up with your beaming face shining up at him, he quickly swiped to accept holding it to his ear, watching while the team laughed at Oikawa, who was shielding himself from Iwaizumi.

“Hiro?”

“Shooting star?” His brows furrowed as he slowly began cleaning his stuff, straightening himself up so he could leave as soon as possible if you needed him; which, guessing by your home, you did.

“I-I think something’s wrong.” You paused, making his heart drop. “I don’t know, but I think I need to go to the doctor, but, I know this is a lot so feel free to say no, can you-”

He didn’t let you finish. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come pick you up and drive you. Do you need me to call and book an appointment?”

A few of his packmates turned with worried eyes, trying to send a non-verbal question. Well, for most of them. Oikawa was trying to whisper-yell his questions, Iwaizumi trying to shut him up.

“I’m at the front of the school. I’ll just meet you at your car.”

“I’ll be right there, shooting star. Stay safe, okay? I love you, and I’ll see you soon Omega.” Takahiro waited for your reciprocation and own farewell before hanging up, quickly standing and swinging his leg over the bench and grabbing his bag.

“Makki-kun, is Y/N-chan okay?!” Oikawa screeched after him, actively crawling onto Iwaizumi, who looked like he was ready to commit first-degree murder.

Makki threw up a thumbs up behind him, waiting till he was out of the cafeteria before sprinting towards the parking lot.

He hoped, with every inch of his body, he didn’t lie to his captain.

___

“Take your pills.”

“Alpha, they taste horrid-”

“I don’t care, they make you feel better.”

Takahiro watched you carefully, handing you two of the teal and white pills. The alpha was strict on very few things with you, but your health he did not fuck with.

The appointment with your doctor went fine, with minimal blood work done, and you were sent off with a prescription for hormone balancing pills. You and Takahiro (Who was absolutely divine during the entire thing) were explained how the pills worked and why you dropped, all of which was simple enough to understand. Since then, Takahiro was insistent on you taking the pills in front of him.

“Open.” Takahiro demanded, watching as you stuck your tongue out. He moved your head by your chin, checking the very corners of your mouth. “Lift your tongue.”

You did so, showing nothing. He hummed in approval, letting go of your chin before pausing, pulling you close so you could hear his heartbeat.

“Thank you for caring, Hiro.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling into your alpha’s neck, taking in his scent.

“Thank you for telling me about this and letting me help you.” He responded, pressing a sweet peck to your temple and reminding himself you were still here in his arms. And would be with him for a long, long time.

➵ Your drop was a mix between miscommunication and little whispers in your ear.

➵ Honestly, there was a reason you were in a pack with minimal other omegas.

➵ They grew catty and mean and vindictive if there was something they didn’t like.

➵It was one of their many flaws and strengths.

➵You yourself had caught yourself bad-mouthing another omega to your alpha every now and again.

➵ Though you hated doing it, at some point it was just second nature.

➵ You and Issei had good communication though, and very rarely did something as silly as jealousy come between you two.

➵ whenever something was bothering you or your alpha you would talk it out.

➵ You both trusted each other completely.

➵ If something felt off about another person, you were quick to mention it to the other.

➵ However, sometimes things got complicated.

➵ Insecurities seeped through your walls that Issei kept strong for you.

➵And sometimes, small little whispers became hurdles and boulders pounding against your defenses and breaking them down.

➵Leaving you open and stumbling.

➵ And sometimes, because of this you forgot that you had back-up, an artillery that would fight for you at the drop of a hat.

➵ And those moments, that ones were you were caught with your tail between your legs and ass in the air waiting to be fucked over, were when you truly crumbled.

➵And though it broke you down and made you hurt, your artillery had your back.

___

“Issei, I was-”

You bit your tongue as you were roughly shoved to the side by Akina Harakashi, the omega throwing herself at your alpha. His face remained unmoved and his arms by his side.

She was his science partner for the semester, and though Issei reassured you she was nothing more, you couldn’t help but internally whine at how she acted with him. It was no secret that she liked him, but since you and Issei kept you relationship on the down low, rumors were bound to pop up.

And though you didn’t let it show, they poked and prodded at you. Make your skin crawl as you ventured deep into your own mindset. Thoughts that would plague your every move and drive your omega into overdrive as they tried fixing whatever you picked on in your own reflection.

You shivered as she looked up to Matsukawa, who was busy focusing on entering his locker combo.

“Mattsunnnn~ I’ve missed you!” Her voice was literal nails on a chalkboard to you.

“I saw you twenty minutes ago.” Matsukawa hissed as his locker popped open. “I haven’t seen you recently though, pretty thing.”

Your omega purred as Issei grabbed his textbook, closing his locker and pushing past Akina. He smirked down at you, intertwining your pinkies in the most discreet way possible before walking you to class.

You glossed over his question when he asked you how lunch went.

___

“Do you think Harakashi and Matsukawa are dating?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, have you seen how she hangs off of him?”

“I think they’d make such a cute couple!”

“If Matsukawa doesn’t ask her out soon, he’ll loose her.”

You kept your head down and scent blocking collar tight as you slowly crept through the hallway, exit in front of you. Honestly, you didn’t have the energy to continue on with the day, so you were leaving it the midst of lunch, where you could loose yourself in the crowd and disappear.

You wanted nothing more than your alpha, but his last message had your eyes stinging.

‘Harakashi asked me to meet her at lunch, so I won’t be able to see you. Eat something. At this point, I’ll even take junk food. Just get some food. I’ll see you after school.’

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did, but it stung you deeply. This was it. This was the downfall of your and your alpha’s relationship. You were blown off for Akina Harakashi at long last.

The rational part of you wanted to defend Matsukawa, but every time you tried, the insecurities that had been bubbling within you spit towards the rational part of you and your omega, throwing any redeeming thought into the corner to rot.

A part of you was angry. Angry with Matsukawa for letting this happen. Angry with yourself for not speaking up. Angry with your fucking stomach which groaned for food of any sort. Livid with Akina for trying to steal Mattsun.

Angry at the world.

You couldn’t really remember the last time you ate anything besides...air. The days all blurred together in one miserable run.

“What did I say?”

You glanced over at Matsukawa, heart leaping at the jump he gave you appearing out of nowhere, leaning on the wall beside you. You huffed, turning away from him and leaving him to follow after you. He did so, jogging a bit to catch up.

“You said I’d see you after school. This is not after school.” You snapped, growling at the alpha. He raised a brow, either in disbelief at your attitude or amusement.

“Omega. I said eat. This doesn’t look like eating.” His longer legs gave him the chance to cut in front of you, face now set in anger.

“You also said you had to meet with Harakashi. So scurry along to your new play thing.” You shoved past Matsukawa, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes.

“What are you talking about?!” Issei smartened up, grabbing your wrist when you tried leaving him behind yet again, now visibly irritated. Truth be told, he was meeting up with Harakashi to put an end to her insistent clinginess. To put her in her place, beneath you.

She tried confessing to him before he even looked up, coming into the room with her arms outstretched already, yelling about ‘I knew you felt the same’ or something . He dodged her, sneering down at her and snapping at her to leave him alone or he’d go through the semester alone (Which he already talked to the teacher about, but she didn’t need to know about that).

Hanamaki had been his eyes when he wasn’t there, reporting back to Matsukawa with updates on you. His latest? You had been missing from lunch for the better part of the week, and last he saw you were ditching the last half of this day.

Which Matsukawa wasn’t letting happen, because if you went home right now, you wouldn’t come back. And he couldn’t live with himself if he let you drop.

“I was meeting with Harakashi to tell her to piss off. You’re my omega. Why in the hell would I even want someone like her when I already have you? You are mine, and I fought for you. I don’t need a corner worker.”

Any fight you had in you disappeared when you saw the small tears glazing your alphas eyes, making your own break free as you ran into his chest. His arms locked around you, holding as if you would slip away if his grip loosened.

Which you just might’ve. Good thing he wasn’t planning on letting you slip.

“Wanna go get food?”

“...Yea. Can we get nuggets?”

“Anything for my pretty omega.”

➵ Okay this one is super short, and I’m sorry! I just wanted to get this out for you guys!

➵ And I think you guys wanted a follow up of sorts for Oikawa.

➵So here it is!

➵ Things didn’t improve over night.

➵It took awhile, but it was worth it.

➵ In time you and Oikawa reached a nice equilibrium.

➵ He wore his bond mark loud and proud and you made sure to tell him when you were uncomfortable with his fangirls and how close they were getting.

➵ In turn, you learned to slowly let go of any reservations you had on his loyalty.

➵He wouldn’t have marked you if he didn’t want to devote his entire being to you.

➵ This showed up when a girl, who you despised (With no hard feelings, since she hated you just as much) tried confessing to Oikawa.

➵Toru, baby boy, shut her down the minute she opened her mouth.

➵ He didn’t even look her way, instead searching for you and quickly brightening up when he saw you.

➵ If he had a tail it would’ve been wagging.

➵ Things improved and everyone was all the better for it.

➵ And Toru made sure to, not only apologize to Iwaizumi, but gift him a voucher for a free movie for him and his omega (who was having a hard time as well).

➵Things were looking up and you both were sure to keep it that way!

___

“Kentaro, please don’t hurt Kindaichi!” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as you tried to stop the alphas from snapping on each other.

It wasn’t that Kyoutani didn’t like or respect you, because he did-- you were like a second mom, but Kindaichi just got on every single one of his nerves. And then tried dragging you into it! Like, the audacity of this bitch.

“Kyoutani!” Your alpha’s bark had both the blond and raven pausing, a careful glance making both back down as Oikawa heading towards you guys (Throwing a pile of confession letters into the trash on his way by without even looking; some point they would get the hint if he left the blatantly in the open).

The blond growled lowly, sending you a quick glance before returning to practice. Oikawa let him, turning his glare to the instigator of the whole thing. The onion-headed pup hid behind your smaller frame, making your laugh.

It was almost like that moment when dad’s pulled out their ‘behave or else’ voice. And in a way it was.

“One of these days my pretty dove won’t be there to save you, Kindaichi.”

“I know.”

You and Oikawa sent a look to each before you laughed, moving so Oikawa and Kindaichi could have a ‘man to man’ talk.

The pack was dysfunctional, and you almost let it go.

You were thankful you didn’t and still had this family to come back home too. All thanks to your alpha.

“STOP MAKING GOO-GOO EYES AT YOUR OMEGA SHITTY-KAWA.”

“I can’t help it, Iwa- IWA STOP HITTING ME- Y/N HELP-”

You shook your head laughing, jogging to save said alpha.

He was childish and arrogant, and sometimes got too far up his own ass, but he was yours. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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hufflesocks · 4 years ago

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Headcannons for the Rottmnt boys plus April and Casey at a theme park. Idk because they managed to get their hands on some cloaking broaches and because I say so:

Donnie, April, and Casey:

-Donnie, April, and Casey are hardcore park goers. Like I’m talking getting there an hour before it opens or at the very least the minute they start letting people in. And then staying till the very last minute. (I once read a headcannon (I don’t even remember where) that Donnie and April were like major thrill seekers for some reason. And I guess it stuck so we’re here now)

-Donnie of course has researched the park ahead of time and has planned the best route to allow for Maximum ride time and efficiency.

-The three would go on all the rides no matter how intimidating they seem at least once. And then re-ride their favorites like 50 extra times

-Donnie’s favorites are the roller coasters

-Casey really likes the other rides that like flip you upside down and things like the drop towers

-April is equally excited about both

-Donnie uses his knowledge of physics to figure out for which coasters its best to go in the front or the back

-the middle is never and option

-They are literally running on adrenaline the entire day, and usually just pass out on the way home

Leo:

-Leo really tries to keep up with Donnie, April, and Casey

-he’s constantly putting on a false bravado and is saying things like “You’re worried about me? Please, Raph I could handle this ride in my sleep”

-Meanwhile he’s dead scared and ends of feeling like/having to throw up 70% of the time afterwards

-He’ll do this for like the first half of the day until Raph takes charge and asks Leo to keep him company so he doesn’t feel like he has to ride the rides. Leo makes a big show, but secretly he is really thankful for the excuse

-While the others don’t tease Leo about any of this, there is a lot of this type of dialogue:

Mikey: hey is it supposed to shake like that?

Donnie purposely acting confused : huh, that’s weird.

Leo: Why is it weird

Donnie: Oh I’m sure it’s nothing

Leo: DONNIE WHY IS IT WEIRD

Donnie pulls an extra screw out of his pocket: Hey April check out this screw I just found just. Oh well I’m sure it’s not from a support beam or anything important like that.

Leo visibly sweating: YoU FoUnD a WhAt???

-Leo on the other hand is big in the game department. If you want a plushie, he can and will get it for you or die trying

-In fact they all are fairly decent at the games due to their training.

-Well all except for Donnie. He is absolutely terrible at them, especially the basket ball ones

Mikey:

-Mikey is a very casual park goer

-he doesn’t stress about when they get there or how long the lines are

-he’ll ride most of the rides, but doesn’t mind sitting out on the ones that he doesn’t like(unlike Leo and his pride)

-Throughout the day Mikey can always be found with some kind of sugary treat in his hand. Whether it be funnel cake, ice cream, or cotton candy.

-By the afternoon he is on a massive sugar rush and ends up crashing before they even leave the park. Raph ends up have to carry him on his back as they leave

Raph:

-Raph is honestly just along for the ride

-he isn’t the biggest fan of any of the hardcore thrill rides and really just comes to hang out with everyone

-he’s the one that will hold everyone’s stuff while they’re on rides and makes sure they’re all drinking enough water

-he also gets a little nervous about the others going on the extreme rides especially Mikey. But he usually manages to convince himself that everything is fine

-however, he hates it when the others say stuff like, “I almost fell out of my seat on that one,” or “the g-forces were so strong I thought I was going to black out.” Even though he knows they’re only exaggerating it still stresses him out a bit

-he really likes the chill rides like the teacups or the swings

-his favorite is the log flume. He likes how it reminds him of the sewers and how relaxing it — “Donnie! April! Stop rocking your boat!” “Cassandra don’t you dare even think about trying to stand up!”

-Overall they all end up having fun in their own way, but are all dead tired by the time they get home

#rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt headcannons #I guess I’m here now #donnie #casey #april #leo #mikey #raph #on the teacup ride #raph mikey and leo who looks very ill: spinning calmly while talking #donnie april and casey: flying past them spinning as fast as they can screaming

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yuujism · 4 years ago

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Sun and Night. (gojo satoru x reader)

Chapter 2: Need

← chapter 1 | chapter 3 →

| PAIRINGS: gojo satoru x reader; hints of getou suguru x reader x gojo satoru

| WARNINGS: ⚠️ SPOILERS FOR HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC ⚠️ suggestive language, toxicity, toxic gojo, toxic reader, angst, grammar errors

| WORD COUNT: idk lol i’ll count it later

| A/N: this is the second chapter of sun and night!! just didn’t want to make it into one chapter because personally i kinda get tired of reading ?? idk so i’m dividing into 3-4 chapters hehe!! so you can see where this is going with this chapter !! next chapter will have some smut so yeah 😎 hope you like it

summary;

You and Satoru were in love.

You were both so deeply in love, just not with each other.

Where you and Satoru found comfort in each other after the accident happened.

Chapter 2: Need

It was really obvious.

The way Satoru treated you was different since that day and everyone noticed it. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though.

Years passed after Suguru’s death, marking a before and after in both you and Satoru’s lives. Your mind and body grew tired of the mourning and the countless of lonely nights filled with tears and regrets, the whisper of your name coming to you like a fantasy. Like a memory that never really happened.

Satoru tried to get busy in an attempt to not think back at his best friend, getting into teaching and being a pain in the ass to the higher ups. It seemed way too Satoru-like: acting like nothing ever happened.

The hatred you felt towards the strongest sorcerer quickly became an envy you couldn’t hide.

You envied how easy it was for him to forget Suguru, remembering the way he couldn’t even tell you your first love died right in front of his eyes. You envied how strong he was and how different you were in every aspect of your life. You envied the way Satoru could just keep going with his life.

The both of you didn’t try to hide the bad blood between you, disregarding and ignoring each other outside the mandatory professional interactions you had. When asked about by your students, the same answer was given from the two sorcerers:

“We just don’t get along.”

And it was the truth. You didn’t get along.

Even when you tried to remember a friendly interaction between you and Satoru when Suguru was still alive, nothing came to your mind.

Satoru could’ve decided to hide his hatred towards you, he just didn’t want to. He didn’t even bother to hide the drop of his smile whenever someone mentioned you or whenever you entered the room. He still thought you didn’t deserve Suguru, not as much as he did at least. And that made Satoru’s blood boil.

He was the one who heard Suguru’s last words. He was the one who Suguru trusted in. He was the one. Enough said.

Of course you were aware of that. After all, they were both with and for each other. Even if it hurt your pride to admit, you were not stupid enough to deny the adoration those two had for one another.

You were just glad Satoru never brought the topic to the table and didn’t seem to have any intentions for it.

Or so you thought.

It wasn’t till the both of you were paired for a mission in the woods that everything started to go downhill for the third time in your whole fucked up relationship.

In the end, Satoru did most of the work. You really didn’t know why Yaga kept pairing you both when he knew Satoru was capable enough to take any curse by himself. It irritated you to no end how Yaga kept being a stoic asshole after all these years.

And Satoru knew that as well. You couldn’t even miss the cocky remarks he would do after every mission.

Unluckily for you more than for him, your patience wasn’t having it this time.

“Yay! Another job well done by me!” Satoru cheered for himself as he walked in front of you as he removed his blindfold to put his sunglasses on, raising his long arms in victory before turning back to face you, a sneer on his face. “Anyway, good job, I guess.”

Satoru wasn’t quick enough to turn around before he saw your whole cold facade crumble in front of his eyes, the words coming out of your mouth catching him off guard.

“Fuck, don’t you ever shut the fuck up?” You couldn’t stop yourself from gradually exploding, the fiercely murmur barely reaching Satoru’s ears who just grinned maliciously.

“Why are you mad? I just told you good job” His as-a-matter-of-factly tone didn’t help your anger, noticing how he also stopped in his spot to look down on you from afar. “You really get mad at everything. Not getting laid?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, walking past him not really being in the mood to argue with a man hitting his thirties acting like an actual child.

God, you were better than this. Better than him in this way at the very least.

“Or still can’t get over your unrequited love?”

Now, Satoru knew that was a low blow, even for himself. But oh, how he hated you. How he liked to see your face twist into pain and anger because of his snarky comments. You deserved it. You deserved to be hated by him and he would show it any chance he got. Satoru was ready for your outburst, maybe expecting you to use your technique against him and show you how useless it was.

But what he didn’t expect was for you to stop in your tracks and turn around calmly, a lot more clam than what Satoru liked.

Your eyes locked on his for the first time since your first discussion years ago and Satoru tensed under your gaze. He didn’t want you to look through him again, but he knew you had already seen everything you needed to see.

A nostalgic yet mocking grin adorned your face, not quite reaching your empty eyes.

“Never thought it would be you to bring up these feelings after all this time.”

And, this time, it was Satoru’s facade that crumbled down.

Because it was true. Neither of you ever mentioned Suguru to each other or the feelings you both knew you had towards the deceased sorcerer. Because, unknowingly, Satoru just admitted how jealous he also felt that you felt the same for Suguru.

No, not the same.

“Feelings?” Satoru mocked you with a twisted smirk as he took off his glasses, eyes filled with a fire you couldn’t describe. “Don’t make me laugh. You didn’t have feelings for him. Suguru was just a whim for you!”

This was the second time Satoru yelled at you and it almost felt like a deja vu. You jolted, the tone of his voice reaching deep within you to light the same fire that was burning in those blue eyes. You were glad you were still in the outside where nobody could stop or hear you.

“You really are thick in the head, aren’t you?” You yelled back, walking towards him in an agressive manner. “A whim? A fucking whim?” You laughed painfully, stopping inches away from him. “I loved Suguru more than you could ever imagine. What? Too jealous you weren’t the only one down bad? Oh! Boohoo!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” He bit back, throwing his glasses to the side to grab you by the collar. “You don’t even deserve to love Suguru! I do! He was my one and only, not yours. I did more for him than you ever did in your pathetic life!”

“Fuck off! Don’t you think I didn’t know that?!” God, you hated the way how your voice cracked in the end in front of him, tears creeping to your eyes as your hands flew to Satoru’s wrists. His infinity was surprisingly off. “I fucking knew it! God, the way you looked at him was enough for me to know you loved him just as much...” Tears started rolling down your cheeks, Satoru’s grip tightening. “I envied you for that. Fuck, I even envy how you don’t feel pain anymore.”

Satoru really didn’t mean to let this escalate this far, but what kind of bullshit were you spitting now? He was so angry, he didn’t even care about the fact your small hands and nails were digging into his skin.

“Are you dumb enough to believe I don’t think about what I could’ve done differently every day of my life?” Satoru’s tone was low now, blue eyes piercing into you with disdain. “I blame myself for his death. Do you? Tell me right now. Do you blame yourself?”

“Yes.” The lack of hesitation made Satoru let out a snort, and you didn’t let him interrupt you with his complaining again. “I blame myself as much as I blame you. While we were busy trying to get stronger after what happened with Master Tengen, he was suffering and we didn’t notice. We didn’t want to notice.”

Silence sourrounded you both, the grip on your collar loosening as the seconds passed by. You knew Satoru was having a hard time processing all this. The emotions, the discussion, letting out everything he hid for years and finally accepting your feelings towards Suguru. As if he was the one who decided on who could love him and who couldn’t.

His gaze never left your face, trying to deny the undeniable: all those times years ago, even when he thought he was doing a great job at hiding it, you could see right through him. You knew how much Satoru loved Suguru and you knew how he also swept Suguru’s feelings under the rug. You were just like him.

But, fuck, how he hated you.

How he hated your now soft eyes looking at him as if he was an injured lamb crying for help. How even if he towered over you as he had you in a strong grip, you didn’t seem to flinch over your next actions. Hated the way your hands made their way to the sides of his face, the coldness sending shivers down his spine as his breath hitched in his throat.

But what Satoru hated the most was the way he was probably feeling the same as you right now.

He wasn’t going to deny it anymore. At least, not this time.

“You know I hate you, right?” Satoru whispered, letting go of your collar to place his large hands on the sides of your neck, face a breath away from yours.

The faint brush of his lips against yours sent mixed signals to your brain. Don’t do it. This is a mistake. That’s dangerous territory. He’s literally Gojo Satoru.

But, holy hell, the way his hands travelled down your sides, reaching your hips after leaving a trail of fire on your skin, made you throw every worry out of the window. You needed this.

You both needed this.

“Yes, I know.”

And that was enough for Satoru to capture your lips in a feral kiss, the grip on your hips pulling you close to his body as your hands tangled in his white locks, pulling harshly as your tongues fought each other for dominance. You almost missed the way Satoru whined against your mouth at a certain pull on his hair, nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he grinded his growing erection against your stomach. And it really felt heavenly, having this anger come out through this kiss was the best option you could find.

But something was off.

Even if Satoru was the one kissing you as if his life depended on it, you couldn’t help but picture Suguru. His voice, his touch, his scent... everything was Suguru. A mere fantasy again and this time it hurt more than you think it would.

“S-Satoru, hold up.” You mumbled between kisses, trying to pull away by pushing him by his chest.

Satoru looked at you through half-lidded eyes, panting through parted lips the same as you as you stared at each other with guilt in your eyes. His hold in your hips released to place them in your cheeks, almost as if he was trying to make sure you were actually you. And that’s when realisation hit you like a truck.

“You...” You started hesitantly, looking down at your own hands on his chest. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

A second. Then two. Then a few other more passed and Satoru just seemed to have had a bucket of cold ice water thrown at him. It was almost as if you were inside of his own head. It was annoying.

“Fuck.” Satoru growled, finally pulling away from you as both of his hands ran through his hair desperately, turning away from your figure. “Fuck, I’m... I mean, yes, I was thinking of... Fuck!”

God, he was spiralling again. Of course he was thinking of Suguru. Satoru was thinking of your lips being Suguru’s, your touch, everything. Fulfilling the dream he could never live. And now you were probably going to have an argument again about how that kiss was a mist—

“Satoru.” Your hand on his back made him jolt, slapping himself mentally for not turning his infinity on after getting away from you.

He turned to face you, your features giving him a sweet smile as your other hand reached for the side of his face once again. Satoru didn’t like the way his heart jumped at your touch.

“It’s okay,” You murmured lowly, pulling Satoru close to your face once again as he calmed down. Your now warm hands reached behind his neck this time, his hands instinctively flying to your waist as your bodies got close to each other. Satoru was putty in your hands once again as he looked down at your parted lips.

“I was thinking about him too.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru x geto suguru

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ct-multifandom · 4 years ago

Text

Miracuclass Amogus Cringe

I was going back and forth about making this post, but then I saw @charming-mage ‘s and I was like screw it we’re doing this. This ended up 10x longer than I thought it’d be.

Marinette (crewmate) - tries to organize everyone into a buddy system to corner the impostors, gets frustrated when people agree to her plan and then start running rogue. When discussions start she’s leading the conversation and asking the most questions. She greatly prefers crewmate over impostor because she likes the mystery solving element of discussions.

Marinette (impostor) - whenever she kills someone she goes, “ahhhh” out loud and panics while her avatar sprints away from the body. She likes coming up with convoluted plans, especially when she can communicate with her fellow imp(s), and tries to make it seem like she’s in two places at once wether it be through venting or falsified testimony.

Adrien (crewmate) - he has to unmute and ask how to do like every individual task to the point where he’s been voted out over it before because cmon, you’ve gotta be lying about it at this point, just piece it together and stop unmuting during task time. He makes puns and sings little improvised songs while tasking. When he suspects someone but they don’t get voted out, he offers to tail them at the cost of his own safety. Same with fixing sabotages late-game. To him, getting killed is just part of the game progression, and it’s not a big deal because he trusts his fellow crewmates to avenge him and doesn’t mind ghost-tasking.

Adrien (impostor) - okay maybe he lies about not knowing tasks sometimes. But it also took him a while to learn imp mechanics and he kept asking about them out loud like, “what’s the red square task on the floor? Why’s my name highlighted?” And somehow nobody noticed while his partner(s) were like nggggg Adrien no... At least he’s good at playing innocent/fake-detective-ing in discussions. Whenever he kills someone he makes some stupid one-liner about it out loud.

Alya (crewmate) - we got Sherlock Holmes over here. She overanalyzes every tiny detail and isn’t scared to sacrifice the sus for the greater cause. When she finishes tasks, she likes to hang out by security and snoop in case of the rare satisfaction of catching someone red-handed. If there’s an emergency meeting, it’s probably because she probably saw something. She supports Crewinette’s plans to corner the imps. She thinks tasks wins are boring and that it’s a lot more fun to win through voting correctly. If they task-win or lose she stops before the new game and asks who the imps were and for a recap of their actions.

Alya (impostor) - a force to be reckoned with. She’ll wait for the perfect moment to strike someone, and then cover her tracks, join a group and win herself a strong alibi anyways. Her reputation as a ruthless detective protects her, even when the game is set to show that the ejected person was innocent. She always chooses someone to kill and someone to blame for it, but sometimes she gets carried away and they vote her off for pointing too many fingers.

Nino (crewmate) - he’s just tasking, man. If he gets killed he’s like, “oh mf” and just keeps ghost-tasking. He mostly hangs out during the discussions unless he has something solid to say, only jumping in at the end to confirm, “so we’re voting for _?”. He leads his own little crewmate squad around when he finishes tasks to protect them while they finish theirs.

Nino (impostor) - mostly plays off the strategy of his partner(s). He likes playing the protective team-player type “innocent diversion” role while the partner(s) get to killing, so when discussions start he’s totally in the clear, which gives him an opening to dodge suspicion in the future if he needs to take over killing. He pretends to fix sabotages all the time because people rely on him to do that as a crewmate.

Max (crewmate) - freakishly good at the card scanning task. People always ask for his secret and he’s like? It’s so easy? He has every map memorized to a t so he can point out the contradictions in people’s stories like an ace attorney character. It’s surprisingly really helpful. He’s the opposite of Alya in that he’s a big supporter of the “guys, stop voting off random innocent people, we have like five tasks left. Whoever hasn’t done them, just finish them” strategy.

Max (impostor) - he tries his best to protect his partner(s) in the discussion while laying low himself, and sometimes he gets voted out for it, but if he senses that there’s nothing he can do, he’ll throw them even further under the bus to build credit for himself. He doesn’t like sacrificing innocents as a crewmate, so his defenses are only sus when he’s caught being wrong. He sabotages a lot to control people’s movements and vents liberally unless he committed to a tasking group. That being said, he can go whole rounds without killing out of caution.

Kim (crewmate) - he’s the guy who calls emergency meetings early into the game only to say, “I miss you guys :)” He gets voted out all the time for doing troll-y crap and ignoring Crewinette’s plans. He’s also severely confused by some of the tasks and game mechanics, but fakes it till he makes it, until the discussion where he rarely says anything valuable and just jokes around. Sometimes, though, he’ll offer a tiny offhand detail and everyone’s like Kim, I hate to say it, but you’re a genius or that’s the piece we’ve been missing! And he’s like haha ok. He’s always behind on tasks, sometimes out of laziness, sometimes out of confusion, but he’s one of the people Max is impatiently waiting on.

Kim (impostor) - he gets caught in the act a lot and it’s hilarious, but other times he gets away with everything the entire time, which is kinda scary. He’s weirdly good at introducing so much confusion and derailment to discussions that everyone gets totally lost and doesn’t know what’s going on, allowing him to survive when they could’ve easily figured him out. Unlike Max, he knows literally nothing about the maps and always says he was at the “slidey thing” or whatever and everyone’s like idk wtf the slidey thing is, and if this were anyone else they’d be gone immediately, but it’s Kim so he might actually be telling the truth. He refuses to learn the names of anything because this really helps him out.

Alix (crewmate) - always trying to convince her friends to experiment with ridiculous game settings. Occasionally, she gets to them, and they get games with comically unbalanced imp:crew ratios, awful lighting, an overwhelming load or lack of tasks, or hilariously low cool downs. She revels in the chaos. When she tasks she usually moves from place to place alone but tries to hop in with groups to confirm her movements. She’s pretty good at sussing imps out when they offer enough information, but otherwise she just makes goofy comments with Kim.

Alix (impostor) - not too worried about killing people and venting. She moves fast and dashes from place to place, joining a group on the opposite side of the map from her last body. If anyone says, “I saw someone vent but I didn’t see who” it was probably her. She likes the “stand in a clump and watch the chaos ensue when one person drops” technique as well as the gambling “hope that the UI for the task everyone’s doing covers your killing and venting” strat. Sometimes she’s forced to vent to a dead end and gets caught, and sometimes the big brain detectives catch her, but she’s usually pretty smooth.

Rose (crewmate) - a big fan of hide and seek mode. She likes grouping up for tasks, protecting each other at the cost of efficiency. During discussions, she has a hard time believing anyone’s the impostor, and everyone’s like, Rose, we know there are exactly three of them, you can’t defend every individual person. Whenever she gets killed she is like *gasp* et tu, Brute? No matter who it was.

Rose (impostor) - runs around with her squad when... oops... looks like something got sabotaged! Uh oh, wonder who could’ve done that? She’s in a battle against that task bar more so than the players, and tries to stay away from killing. She emulates crewmate behavior perfectly so no one ever suspects her until really late. If she’s the only imp left and she has to kill, it’s like an Agatha Christie locked room mystery level of drama and betrayal within her squad. But we were all together the whole time... omfg no way... it was one of us.

Juleka (crewmate) - she secretly prefers when everyone tasks alone, but goes with the squad for Rose. She only talks in discussions if she’s 100% sure about something, and she often incomprehensibly mumbles vital evidence. ~10 minutes later when they catch the imp she’s like iItoldyouso and the crew’s like ??? If she gets killed and her tasks are done, she haunts that impostor relentlessly. Sometimes she even organizes ghost brigades in ghost chat and gets everyone to follow them.

Juleka (impostor) - definitely gets a kick out of the kill button. Whenever she takes someone down she’s like heeheehee. If she was peer pressured into a task team again, she’ll anxiously try to slip away unnoticed for a second to catch someone in the hallway outside, but if she’s alone, she’s on a hunt. Nobody is safe. When she defends herself on voice chat she also mumbles incomprehensibly and everyone’s like sure, fair enough.

Mylene (crewmate) - seasoned task group leader. She also sings little task songs like Adrien. She tries to organize people into chatting regular status updates so they can tell if someone goes missing. She reports every body she finds and actively participates in the discussion, but whenever she makes good points, she gets overlooked. Then, the crew’s like Mylene, why didn’t you say anything sooner? And she’s like agjdjdhh Either that or she gets voted off for always reporting and being too eager to discuss on top of it.

Mylene (impostor) - gets her partner(s) inside her team and tries to tag-team anyone passing by, only for all the impostors to have alibis when she reports. If the ratio is right, they can destroy their own group, and then immediately point the finger at whoever is left, which works about half the time. Mylene is a pretty convincing actress, but the high IQ tricks only work a couple times.

Ivan (crewmate) - he’ll take one for the team if he has to, especially in those sabotage cases where you’d have to be isolated and vulnerable. Otherwise he’ll protect his group. He has an “innocent until proven guilty” attitude when he runs into other people on the map, and skips during a lot of the votes.

Ivan (impostor) - we all know he can’t lie to save his life. He usually gets voted out really fast if he kills someone because he gets nervous and starts saying contradictory things when questioned. That being said, he’ll do what he can to keep his partner(s) in the clear. He never vents because the risk is too high for him, instead just running around and saying, “sorry” out loud when he catches a victim.

Nathaniel (crewmate) - he’s the opposite of Adrien in that he’ll do anything to avoid getting killed. He runs around tasking on his own, but he’s usually behind because he’s so focused on avoiding everyone, to Max’s frustration. He also never reports bodies. This causes him to be sus at all times, so he gets voted out a lot. Wild Nath sightings are rare and terrifying because he’s never in the clear and he’s just standing there, menacingly. Imp!Alix sees him as a fun combo of Where’s Waldo and Assassin.

Nathaniel (impostor) - the millisecond that cool down timer runs out, someone is getting killed. Hit and run. He’s good at entering a fairly crowded large space, striking, and staying in everyone’s blind spots while he runs away, especially when the lights are out. He likes venting to isolated areas and killing as many people per round as he can, laughing when someone finally reports and everyone unmutes to go WHAT!? at the number of deaths. He tends to operate separately from his partner(s) unless they have an actual plan.

Chloe (crewmate) - gathers every single person in medbay and makes sure they all watch her scan. Yeah okay, we get, you’re a crewmate. She feels personally offended whenever someone kills her, which is often, since people tend to jokingly target her. During discussions, she accuses anyone and everyone of being sus, even if she just walked past them or saw them tasking alone. She likes stalking people as a ghost and spilling tea in ghost chat.

Chloe (impostor) - reacts similarly to Marinette when she kills. She will throw her partner(s) under the bus if it’s more advantageous in the long run, and she’s great at shifting the blame to innocents. People vote her out a lot anyways, and she says she can’t believe that they even like this stupid little game. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Unless she wins. Then it’s fun.

Sabrina (crewmate) - discussion detective supreme. She keeps track of every piece of evidence and testimony, every detail. She tails the sus at a distance, trying to catch them doing something. Sometimes it gets her targeted, but sometimes she catches them and calls emergency meetings to snitch. Somehow she manages to do this and finish her tasks at the same time.

Sabrina (impostor) - sabotages everything, and tries to get her partner(s) to do it too. Once she won because the crew just didn’t fix O2 in time. She avoids killing Chloe, but feels bad if she has to kill anyone else too. She typically just sticks to making other people seem suspicious, and likes the game mode where you can’t see if you voted correctly or not.

Lila (both) - she rarely joins these games. She isn’t even a member of the chat group they use. They occasionally invite her, and she usually lies about how busy she is, but she accepted a couple times to further her narrative. She pretends to be really bad at being an impostor to establish herself as someone incapable of trickery. Regardless of her role, whenever the body announcement pops up, she goes, “oh nooo, not [victim(s)]... nooo....” and Mari’s like stfu Lila.

Bonus Polaroid kids because,,, they <3

Kagami (crewmate) - hella efficient at tasks. Two discussions in and she’s done. She’s the interrogation specialist who stresses out the imps and crew alike with her barrage of questions. She likes moving either alone or in partners, three people maximum, unless Crewinette needs her, in which case she’ll stick to the plan no matter what.

Kagami (impostor) - you’re walking through the base / there’s no one around and comms are down / out of the corner of your eye you spot her / Kagami Tsurugi. She will have you cornered and you won’t be able to do anything about it. She always has a made up explanation for what she was doing, but sometimes it falls through solely because she’s always acting sus.

Luka (crewmate) - he likes crewmate a lot more than impostor. He’ll tag along with a task group until he’s done, and then he’ll go lurk in the corner and spy on people. He moves along the walls, and a few times this has led to him witnessing murders in the middle of the room while the imp only saw him after it was too late. Cue the mad dash for emergency meeting.

Luka (impostor) - works together with his partner(s) to perform some high level backstabbery. He rarely gets voted out unless he messes up because he builds bonds of trust with like half of the crew while he leads the rest into his partner(s)’ traps. He feels bad about killing sometimes, but he doesn’t mind sabotaging.

Zoe (crewmate) - she finds one or two other people she trusts and follows them around. She uses the logic of “well we could’ve both killed each other by now but we didn’t so they must be safe”. She immediately recounts everything that happened to her that round in discussions, even irrelevant details, just in case they might end up useful, and tends to bandwagon with voting.

Zoe (impostor) - tries to catch people in secluded corners or rooms with closable doors to kill them. She avoids taking risks, but sometimes she reports her own bodies and tries to act all surprised by the discovery. She’s a good actress, but she’s not the best bs artist, although the crew is used to her giving a ton of details right from the start, so they don’t suspect her unless there’s a hole in her story.

Marc (crewmate) - does tasks on his own but makes sure to stop near crowds when he can. Whenever he’s running around alone and sees someone else, he immediately turns around like ohmygodohmygod and anxiously dances around the other person who’s more than likely just another, equally anxious crewmate with places to be. He still gets killed a lot.

Marc (impostor) - he goes full anime villain mode. All according to keikaku. He’s one of those people who disproportionately rolls the impostor role and ends up with it like twice every five games. He plans out every move he’s gonna make, every complex lie and big brain play, and sometimes he gets that glorious evil win, but sometimes his plans are totally sabotaged by stupid things like Kim’s trolling.

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ga-yuu · 4 years ago

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I have been wondering for a while now. What characters from otome have taugh you valuable lessons? Is that characters your favorite or not?

Actually, now when I think about, I was a really horrible person back in school. I was selfish, I loved manipulating people for my own benefit, I was fake and sometimes I break people's hearts without second thought. Now you might be thinking 'Woah! This girl used be an asshole in school.' Yes! I was....and now when I think about it.....I hate myself.

Now that I'm an adult, I think it's not only otome games and anime that played a part in changing me. It's just, once I became an adult I left behind my childish behavior and started....to be a better person.

Usually when I play an otome game, or watch an anime or even a movie, I do end up learning a thing or two but most of the time I forget about the movie after 2 or 3 weeks, but that life lesson always follows me everywhere. Now otome games, has played a big part in my life but I don't remember every otome games story clearly now....but I'll try. Also most of them might not be my favorites!!

Also !!!!!SPOILERS!!!!!

Lance (Nameless) - I learned how to cherish even the smallest thing that happens in my life.

There is a scene if I remember correctly, where Lance was standing near a trash can in the rain and sees a barbie doll in the trash can.

I felt really bad when I saw that. A doll for me used be a thing that never had feelings. Even if break it or throw it away, it would never cry or even curse me(unless it's possessed)

But now, after seeing that scene, I started to put myself in it’s place and I started to feel how worse it was. A doll you loved so much as a kid is now thrown away like a piece of trash.

From then on, started loving everything I have whether it’s a living thing or non-living thing. Even the laptop I used to write this, even the phone I used to play games, even the pillow I cuddle with in my bed are all precious treasures to me and I want no one to even touch them.

This might sound like I’m crazy, but I don’t care. I love everything that my parents offered me and will cherish it till the end.

Also, do I like Lance? Yup. He’s my 2nd fav. of this game!

Soi (Nameless) - Looking at your own self before criticizing others.

Soi might be an extra in the game, but I still loved her every time she showed up. She’s always shown to be a true friend towards Eri(MC) and always liked her for who she is.

I haven’t played the entire game, but in one route, when Eri tells her friends that she has a hobby of collecting dolls and was ready to hear her friends bashing her about being childish and stuff, Soi was very casual about it and didn’t say anything.

When Eri asked if she was weird for having such a hobby, Soi gives a savage reply like “Dude, I already have many problems in my own life to deal with. Why would I want to increase my burden with yours’= too?” or something like.

That was a very good lesson for me to learn. Before you go out and tell people how should they behave or criticize them, first check yourself. Are you a good person? Is your life problems already solved before you go out and solve other person’s problems?”

Seriously, if you have these kind of people in your life, tell them to FUCK OFF! because they’re toxic as hell.

Lucette (Cinderella Phenomenon) - The person you love and trust might not always be a good person.

Everyone has a person they trust and love. For some, it might be their friends, for some it might be siblings, or for some it might be their pets. No one has the right to judge. But the person you trust might not feel the same way for you.

In this beautifully made game, the MC, Lucette is disliked by everyone because she’s rude, arrogant and never trusted anyone other than her mother. But in the end of the story !! SPOILER ALERT!! her mother was the villain in her entire life.

Her own mother made her not trust anyone, even her own father for her entire life. When she learned about this truth, she was literally heart broken because the only person she ever loved didn’t love her back. But life doesn’t end there. She stands up again and tries to reconcile with her father, stepmother and step siblings.

Going through betrayal and experiencing heart breaks is traumatizing but it’s also a part of learning....you will learn to not trust anyone blindly. Life doesn’t end there, you have to keep moving on and one day you’ll surely find a person you can trust and rely on.

If you’re still alone, then keep a pet. There is no rule that you should only love humans, right?

Sovieshu (The remarried empress webtoon/ interactive game/light novel) - It only takes one small mistake to collapse your entire world.

It takes great hard work and time to create an strong Empire, but did you know that one small mistake is enough to destroy everything in your life. The webtoon Remarried Empress is a right example of that. (If you haven’t read this, I highly recommend it.)

Sovieshu is piece of SHIT! I won’t lie, but he has thought me this lesson. Sovieshu is a Great Emperor along with Navier, who is the Empress of their country. They both were trained to be the king and queen since they were children and both were the best of friends. Even if they were not lovers, they were still married and Navier has always been faithful towards her husband and the entire Empire.

But one day, Sovieshu happened to meet tRashta(slave) and fell in love with her at first sight. Without doing any background check of her past or anything, he brings her home and makes her his concubine. Navier was kinda sad but she didn’t want to show it because she was the Queen and she had to, you know, keep her public image at the top. But Sovieshu on the other hand started becoming abusive and compared Navier with tRashta. Even though Navier didn’t do anything, he kept on accusing her for bullying tRashta everyday. It’s like he would wait in the corner, hiding, looking at Navier and tRashta interacting and when he see tRastha crying, he comes running to her and starts to scold Navier in front of the whole public. He’s such an asshole. Later he does give her a divorce (stating that she’s infertile) because, tRashta was pregnant with his baby and he didn’t want to make her baby, a bastard because, tRashta is not his wife. But on the other hand, he also didn’t want to leave Navier because she was a perfect Queen in every way. So his plan was to divorce her for one year, and marry tRashta till the baby was born, so the baby becomes the princess. Later he’ll annul their divorce, so by doing this he has both tRashta and Navier. He’s such an asshole.

But Navier had other plans. So right when her divorce was agreed by the priest, she requested for a remarriage. From here own, Sovieshu’s tragedy starts. Later in the story he finds out that, it wasn’t Navier who was infertile but it was him all along. Even the baby tRashta carried was not his. After this betrayal, Sovieshu lost his mental stability and went through severe depression. See! That’s all it takes for your world to collapse. One single mistake is what is needed.

Kurama(Ikemen Genjiden) - What’s wrong with being yourself?

IDK if your family is like this, but my family is like “You have to learn to eat everything. Like vegetables, meat etc etc” with a reason that you’ll be able to live any circumstances.

I would like to say that, I’m a very picky eater. I hate vegetables, especially tomatoes. If I even see one small piece of tomato in my food.....I won’t throw the whole food away, I’ll just take the piece and put it on the side of the plate and also yell at my mom for putting tomatoes in my food. I’m also a vegetarian. I hate tasting meat but I don’t mind eating food in the small table as my non-veg father. Also, unlike my family members, I’m very punctual. (because I’m an introvert and I don’t like getting the extra attention when I’m late!!)

These are just some of the facts of me being me. My family always complains that I shouldn’t choose how I want to be and must always be perfect in everything because I’m a girl and girls are married off when they get older, right? (It’s bullshit.)

The only people who loves me for who I am are my parents. They never once told me to do this or that like my useless uncles and aunts who have never ever contributed anything in my life.

Kurama as a character, I love him, because he is just being himself. He’s like ‘I’ll do whatever I want and no one has the right to stop me.’

That quote is so beautiful. I mean, why are you being fake for the sake of being accepted by the society. The people who truly loves you will love you for who you are. Do the things the way you like. Eat what you like, drink what you like, watch whatever you like. If you like anime, and your friend wants to watch sports, watch anime in your phone with your head phones. It’s better than watching sports you don’t like and creating an awkward environment by acting you know every player in the team, right?

No one has the right to judge anyone. If anyone does come and tell you “Hey, you should not do this like this way, but you should do it this.”, tell that person “ I’ll do whatever I want and no one has the right to stop me. “

Yoritomo and Yoshino(Ikemen Genjiden)- Not everyone is perfect.

I never understood what is the meaning behind being a perfect man or perfect human. Does it mean you have good figure on the outside but at the same time you’re toxic as hell inside? or does it mean you’re very intelligent but at the same time you’re socially awkward?

Not everyone is perfect. Not everyone is good at every single thing and not everyone has to be good at everything.

Yoritomo as a character, always wears a perfect smile indicating others how good he is. But in reality, he’s very lonely and also needs someone to look after him just like anyone else.

There is nothing wrong with being independent and doing everything on your own. But there is also nothing wrong in depending on someone for things you can’t do. If anyone boldly claims that “I don’t need anyone to love me, I’m fine without anyone” it’s all bullshit! Don’t believe in that kind of nonsense.

Even if you’re the king of the world or even if your a roadside homeless puppy, everyone needs love and support in their life. Everyone needs some one they could talk to, even if it’s just trivial.

It will at least give them a small amount happiness even though it doesn’t worth anything. That’s why I’m telling you, if you don’t have a lover or friends or parents or any human being to talk to, adopt a pet or something.

I hope I was able to answer everything you wanted to hear. ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

#asks #life lessons from otome #otome #nameless #the remarried empress #ikemen genjiden #cinderella phenomenon

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devilishlly · 4 years ago

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whatever the opposite of fame-bright is

umm my take on secret evil robin <3 bc i fucking enjoy it i hope this isn't too ooc or whatever.. idk why but i kept cursing to a minimal LOL tw for murder under the cut! (its not bad but yknow)

they weren’t sure how they came into existence, but when they realized they existed, it was awful. a life where no one gave a shit about another person, save for some bread thrown their way when they finally left the little pile of scraps in the abandoned building. the other children to kept them alive till then weren't so much better, taking things from someone who had nothing, beating someone who they felt deserved it- all to gain back some control in their life. at least they were kept alive, alive with little to do but survive.

and was nice. it was nice while it lasted. soon they were old enough for responsibilities. kids with no names had to resort to things like this, and everyone decided that they were the best for this; they looked normal. not too ugly or deranged looking that would send passerbys immediately in a mood, or too pretty and beautiful so that they'd get caught and dragged away. the children brushed their hair, and told them to stand or sit a little off the corner of a nearby decrepit building and look sad, or best of all, empty. and it worked like a charm. they stood there, at the smallest and darkest hours of night, until a lady passed by and stopped to kneel in front of them. eye contact was always the most important first impression, they learned. she smiles and holds out a hand, "what are you doing out here so late?" the child takes the stone they had in their hand and throws it back, gently. the children swarm the woman, and it would have been easy for the woman to fend of a malnourished child, perhaps two. but it was a group of angry, vengeful, hungry children who needed her help in the worst of ways. so they covered their eyes, even when the others took their hands and dragged them back to their place in the abandoned warehouse. with many more times and practice, they stopped feeling bad. the child realized, they needed to live. it didn't matter how, as long as they were. soon they were old enough to go alone. "you're twelve now, you're strong enough," one of the older ones said and handed them a screwdriver, covered in enough rust and grime to immediately infect anyone with an open wound. so they nodded and went to a street like the one they lived on, on the outskirts of the city.

someone older taught them this, to aim left and up against and inside their chest, and drive the sharp thing so deep you could feel flesh squeeze around your hand. it was routine by now, as the man slumped and the child grabbed for the wallet in the man's back pocket of his jeans. tomorrow for them and everyone will pass easier now because of this choice. wiping the blood on the screwdriver on their coat, and pocketing the wallet, the child sighed. but the relief was not for long.

“this wasn’t your first kill, was it, kid?” a deep rumbling voice spoke behind them. panic permeated their senses, so they decided to cry. slowly, of course, like they had been crying this whole time, so by the time the stranger had walked around the corpse, their eyes were already teary. but the man who now squatted in front of them and the dead body shook his head. "sorry brat, but i know what i saw. you can't cry your way out of this one." the child notes that the man sounded disappointed, almost. and coupled with the look of danger the man had, they remained silent. the man takes a cigarette from his pocket. lighting the cigarette, the man takes a drag and looks down on the child once again. "name?"

they didn't know what to say, tears streaked down their face into their small, bloody hands. their voice creaked, like they hadn't ever spoke until now. "i don't have one. call me whatever you like."

"that's a big responsibility," replies the man, exhaling smoke. "you'll owe your life to me if i give you a name."

they smiled a bit. "i can tell that a life like that would be better than this."

the man nods, "you'll be able to live, not just survive- at least until you become of age. but you'll forever be in my debt, and you will forever owe me whatever i demand. is that worth it, to you?" "will i have to kill?" "it won't get that bad." "will i be able to eat?" "more than you eat now, for certain." "that's good enough for me. so then, please name me." "let me think for a moment." the man finishes his cigarette and throws it to the floor. he rises, and steps on it. "your name's robin now. let's go." he turns around and walks, not looking back.

the child gets to their feet, and runs. the man comes to a black car and gets inside of it. so robin gets into the car and they sit. they watch the city fade far away, the sky becoming progressively darker until the reach of sunlight breaks through into daybreak. just forget, robin tells themself. just forget everything in that city, and focus on living in this new town. the man, bailey, tells robin that they are lucky it is the summer and throws a bunch of books at them. robin learns to read quickly. when robin can do simple arithmetics, bailey pulls them inside his office. robin will be enrolled to school and suggests that they get better at knowing things before it starts. before robin turns to leave, they speak. "you've given me a lot, bailey." the man leans back in his chair. "are you trying to ask me for more?" they laugh, dryly. "i guess i can never hide the truth from you. i thought i would be satisfied once i lived normally, but i miss it. the thrill of the life i had before." bailey nods, "i would have figured as much. i saw you smile slightly over that dead man before i decided to get you. you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"it was... cathartic." "you want some more catharsis, huh?" bailey sounded barely content, but most of all, knowing. robin nodded. "you can help me with some things then- who knows, it could help you know some helpful people in the future. but know that this is just extra work, it won't deduct anything off our agreed debt." robin nods, "that's fine." so then they were put to work, employed as a little assistant who helped demand money, blackmail, manipulate people who were also in debt to the man they were in debt to as well. they enjoyed it, the ability to sway emotions, to see and experience time and time again the feeling of expunging everything from someone. they had nothing, now so will you. revenge on everyone, on the world for letting them have lived the childhood they had. eventually one day, robin saw you. the look of shock and terror on your face told them bailey just imposed the debt on you- easy pickings. they swayed you with their smiles, just like the townsfolk at their lemonade stand. they made you trust them, with their respect and nicety that no one had ever shown you until now. robin knew no one made you special in their lives. you weren't special to robin either they assured themself, but it's easy to pretend when it's someone is so stupid that they'd do anything for you. everything is easier once you’ve faced worse. getting beat, getting molested, getting bullied- everything was easier than that past life of reliance on murder to survive with all those things combined. robin had a roof over their heads, robin finally had a name, and robin had someone like you under their thumb. that wasn't any problem though, robin knew it in their heart as they hugged you and saw the flush in your face when you told them you saw their note and felt the same. it was so easy. it was so fucking easy to get you to shoulder their debt, but things didn’t go as planned, somewhere along the way it stopped being pretend. the coy smiles, the worried hugs, the warmth in their chest in the moment of afterglow melded with the trueness of feeling. but it didn’t matter. things will go on as they should, things will stay the same. well... so long as you did.

#i feel insane for this #i wrote this all in 1 sitting like a madman #anyways <333333333 #degrees of lewdity bailey #dol bailey #degrees of lewdity robin #dol robin #dol headcanons #degrees of lewdity #dol

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usedtobe-angstyoikawa · 4 years ago

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Tanabata

Itadori Yuji x latinx!gn!reader

Summary: you’re from Latin America and end up moving to Japan (cause your whole family is fucking dead hehe sorry). You feel sad and homesick but Itadori tries his best to cheer you up.

Warnings: I’d say none?

a/n: just to clarify, I am from Latin America and I know not everyone here is loud and touchy but I am and this was kind of a self inserted fic cause I feel that if I had to move to Japan it’d be really hard to get used to the people and their culture in general. Like japanesse people are known for being closed off and distant mostly because they’re very respectful and well behaved, whereas in Latin America people are more outgoing and kind of rude to be honest. Idk I think it’s an interesting contrast between these two cultures and Itadori has a bit of both and I love him so yeah enjoy (also I didn’t proofread this I’m very sorry)

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Being a foreigner student in Japan wasn’t easy, specially coming from a place like Latin America with such a different culture. When Gojo sensei found you in the middle of a loosing battle against a curse back in your country, you never would’ve thought he’d save you and take you with him to the other side of the world. You were grateful though, thanks to him you got to meet amazing people that understood what loosing everyone you loved was like. People who gradually became your friends and helped you through your hardest days without expecting anything back. But you still missed your home, the food, the music and the people. Your people. Sometimes those thoughts made you feel guilty, but you couldn’t help but feel left out whenever Noraba made a reference about a tv show they all used to watch when they were kids, or when Megumi flinched and run away anytime you got too exited and accidentally raised your voice. Yuji was a great cook and would often make you try new dishes to cheer you up, but japanese food tasted so different to what you were used to it sometimes wasn’t comforting enough. You weren’t having a bad time but you definitely weren’t the happiest you’d ever been. You craved touch and warmth, you wanted to go dancing without being self conscious and stay up till sunrise.

The closest person to you was Yuji. You met him a few months after your arrival in Japan, apparently he’d been out on a ‘secret mission’ or at least that’s what Gojo had told you. The pink haired boy greeted you with a big smile and a lot of questions, you were surprised by his outgoing and warm personality at first but you immediately became good friends. You loved being around Yuji, he’d always let you hug him and didn’t seem to be affected by your voice volume. He reminded you of an old friend back home so it wasn’t hard to open up to him and tell him about your mixed feelings towards the cultural crash.

“I can’t say I get it ‘cause I totally don’t, I wasn’t forced to leave my country and leave behind everything I’ve known my whole life to try and start a new life on the other side of the world” he said while grabbing his chin and looking at the ceiling “ and I don’t think there’s a way to make you feel completely at home, I mean I can try recreating your country’s traditional dishes but I don’t wanna ruin that for you”

You’d tried that before but you could never find the right ingredients and there was always something missing, leaving you with and empty space in your chest. It seemed like every time you tried to do things to keep holding on to your culture the more distant you felt, as if the life you knew was forever lost.

“That’s it! We can go to the festival!” the boy next to you jumped and you stared at him wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Noraba didn’t tell you about it?” You shook your head no “This weekend starts the Tanabata festival, it was a chinese tradition at first but we’ve been celebrating it for a while. There’s gonna be a lot of food, cute decorations around the city and… oh!” Suddenly he was in front of you grabbing you by your shoulders “ WE HAVE TO MAKE A WISH”

And that’s how you ended up borrowing one of Nobara’s yukata and headed to the festival, Yuji right next to you. As soon as he saw you wearing the traditional clothes his face lit up and he grabbed your hand, dragging you to what he described as the best place in earth. Some of the second year students decided to tag along but you lost them in the crowd.

Yuji was right, it was fun. He showed you around and bought you different types of food, you played games and he told you about the japanese traditions. You slowly realized that maybe you’d judged his people wrong. Seeing kids running around, couples holding each other, and the dumb idiot’s bright smile made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Yes it was a different country, and yes the people there could be distant and a bit close minded, but they were also very nice and respectful, full of wisdom and spirituality.

Apparently it was this festival’s tradition to write down a wish on a colorful paper strip (tanzaku) and tie it onto a bamboo branch. The color you chose held a meaning and directed your wish towards it’s destination. You chose red, representing gratuity towards your parents and ancestors. Yuji chose yellow but he didn’t tell you what the color represented.

“You know there’s a Japanese legend my grandpa used to tell me every time during this festival” He said while you two walked down a path and heading to a bridge “Aparently there used to be two lovers, a cowherd and a weaver girl, that lived by a riverbank in China a long long long time ago. Before knowing each other they dedicated their time to their respective jobs, but once they got married they’d spend so much time together that they completely forgot about them. The girls father got so mad that he split the two lovers apart and exiled the boy to the other side of the river.” He stoped walking and you realized you’d reached the bridge and the two of you were now standing in the middle of it. “The girl cried and begged his father to let them see each other one more time and he agreed, allowing the lovers to meet every 7th of July. But when the date came they realized there was no way of crossing the river, ‘cause you know there was no bridge and they apparently didn’t know how to swim or maybe the tide was too strong and it would’ve been dangerous to…” he started rambling on about the possible ways the couple could’ve seen each other and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, making the boy blush. “Anyways, a bunch of birds I don’t remember what type exactly but they helped the girl cross the river and she was able to meet his lover. Now we throw our bamboo branches to the river so they reach the sea and the gods can find them and read our wishes, hopefully they’ll make them come true.”

“It’s a beautiful story” he nodded and kept looking down at the river. Together you threw your branches and watched them get carried away downstream by the current.

“My wish was yellow, it represents friendship. I usually choose the red paper like you did, I like to make wishes for my parents and my grandpa.” You listened intently, he rarely spoke about his parents. “This time I decided to be a bit selfish and wished for our friendship to last forever and for you to feel at home.” He turned to you and dug holes in your sole with his brown eyes.

You stood there silent, not knowing what to say or how to react. Your heart was beating fast and your eyes were getting wet, but there was this indescribable feeling beginning to settle in inside of your chest. Itadori moved closer to you and cupped your cheek with his cold hand, hot breath fanning over your face.

“I promise I’ll try my best to make you feel at home”

#jjk itadori #jjk headcanons #jjk #itadori yūji #yuji x reader #Yuji x gn!reader #Itadori Yuji x gn!reader #latinx #latin!gn!reader #Itadori Yuji x latinx!gn!reader #Japanese festival #japanesse culture #Latin American reader #itadori x reader

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arigatouiris · 5 years ago

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perhaps... // sanemi x reader

Author’s Note: Another vvvvv self-indulgent one shot for my soft babie Sanemi! Idk I just can’t see him as anything but a softie after that episode with Nezuko~ Obviously, this has Kimetsu manga spoilers, so please be warned! Sanemi deserves the world, honestly. I love him SO MUCH.

Word count: 5662 words

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Warnings: angst, pining, somewhat of a crackhead reader?, fluff, spoilers for the manga, mentions of blood and sex

A lot of people were grateful to the Hashira for finally defeating Muzan. However, the fact of the matter remained—after the war was done, they had no place to go if they already didn’t have a home. Most demon slayers sought shelter within the butterfly estate and the wisteria estates till they could get back on their feet, but Sanemi wasn’t the sort to do that at all.

It wasn’t pride or ego, he simply wanted to get away from it all. To learn of troubles that weren’t demons, to go see sights he hadn’t before—live so that his brother and the family he had lost could see life through his eyes.

The sudden optimism flushed into his system upon seeing Nezuko, after all. The child reminded him nothing of Genya, yet there were instances that he’d wanted to cherish. Perhaps, every little sibling had that in common, the aura that makes you want to protect them.

It’s not that he suddenly wanted to explore the world, it’s just that Sanemi wanted to feel excluded in inclusivity. He wanted to live a life that resembled a normalcy he had only dared to dream about in the distant future; but now was the distant future, and the suddenness of it all threw him off guard. He wanted to go a place and feel disliked because he was a man who didn’t look like he could be trusted; he wanted to go to a place and meet kids who would give him weird nicknames and maybe one day find out that he’s actually not the monster that they thought he was.

No part of Sanemi dreamed he would one day find love, but perhaps, the universe wished that for him by sending him you.

Upon moving to a tiny village near what used to be his old home, he met you—a farmer who worked on a land that did not belong to you, offering people smiles and sometimes, cashew fruits to the kids (when your landlord wasn’t looking). People generally liked you, you seemed the sort of person one couldn’t dislike because you radiated warmth with every action. Sanemi tried to stay away from you, but his arrival to the village brought attention—which was unavoidable considering people knew he was a Hashira. How they knew, he would not know, he considered himself to be a rather secretive person; but the mere mention that he once slayed demons alerted you.

You approached him the second day he settled down and handed him a basket full of produce—some rice, persimmons, cashew fruits (of course, one needn’t know you to know you liked these), adzuki beans, and pickled plums.

“I don’t need it—”

“Oh, come on!” You pushed it forward onto his hand, causing him to pop a vein in annoyance, “Don’t be closed off, Hashira-san! You saved our lives, after all!”

He didn’t like to think of it that way, but that was what he had done. Not directly, but he had assisted to bring down one of the biggest menaces the world had seen. It wasn’t that he was incredibly proud of the fact; this accomplishment had taken from him more than it had given, and if Sanemi was ever given a choice, if he was ever given a choice...

He didn’t thank you, though you didn’t leave too easily. You started talking to him about some gibberish that he obviously wasn’t paying attention to, after which he simply headed back inside his hut, sitting against the wall, trying to catch a bit of sleep. He liked that he could sleep without the worry or fear hanging over his mind—he was free at last to be lazy, and what a privilege this seemed before.

“I’ll bring you more things later!”

Sanemi scoffed, “Listen, I don’t need you to bother. Buzz off, and leave me alone.”

“Ooh, you’re the strong and rude type, aren’t you?” You folded your arms in front of your chest, shooting him an idiotic smile, “I’m willing to bet your heart’s soft.”

It didn’t take him long to throw a stone to your side in a way to say ‘fuck off’. You giggled before waving at him and leaving, but something told him you would only return again; what kind of idiot you were, he did not know, but no part of him was grateful for your smiles knocking on his door when all he clearly needed was some peace and quiet.

Sanemi had money; the demon slaying profession had given him enough of money that he carried around. People would often consider it stupid to carry a large amount of money around, but it was Sanemi, and most people did not bother him—and no thief dared attempt stealing from him. He might not have a reason to rage at anyone, but Sanemi’s life was pent-up rage, nestled in his heart in the form of yearning and sorrow that he could not, for the life of him, unravel.

A few days later, Sanemi ran out of the rice you had given him, which meant he had to go to the village to buy things. It wasn’t that the village was overtly welcoming to him, but they left him alone and that was perhaps what he wanted. In his spare time, he trained, he didn’t know for what, and he would hunt. Sanemi learned how to cook better than he ever had before, and thought of his brother, thought of Masachika, and sometimes, if he dared, he thought of his mother.

“Shinazugawa-san!”

He clicked his tongue when he noticed your head pop into the entrance of his house, a wicked smile plastered on your face.

“What is it now, woman?”

It wasn’t that he disliked you. He didn’t want anything to disrupt what was left of his life; he wanted to stay here till he got bored, and leave when the time was right. Getting to know you would only complicate things. But, why was it that you were hellbent on constantly checking up on him and speaking to him? Despite the fact that he looked so scary and intimidating all the time, despite the fact that he was rude to you almost always, you always trod on.

“Would you like some ohagi?”

His eyes twitch at your words, cursing at himself for revealing to you that he liked the sweet the other day. It wasn’t that he explicitly told you, but it was simply that he was eating it the day before and you saw him—trodding on and making a big deal out of him liking a sweet that you apparently knew how to make really well.

“Stop bothering me.”

“Eh? You don’t look busy to me.”

“But I am, woman. Leave me alone!” He barked, only to have you giggle.

“I’ll leave it here. Have them, okay? You saved our lives, after all.”

There you go again, bringing it up like it was something to be proud of. Sanemi clicked his tongue before lying down, showing you his back. He was done with dealing with you for the day, and somehow, you understood that what you had said did not resonate well with him right then. You blinked a couple of times before pressing your lips together and leaving him to himself.

It wasn’t that you intentionally wanted to bother him. You were clearly aware that he did not grasp the affections of your fellow villagers, but you did not see a bad man in Shinazugawa Sanemi. You did not have any family to compare him to, but there was something strikingly similar to Sanemi and a particular demon slayer that had saved your life a few years ago. The boy was definitely younger than you, but scars adorned his face as well, and he did not use swords like most demon slayers that you had heard of.

Looking up to the sky, you walked to your special spot—a spot that you had reserved for yourself and your ‘little friends’. You hoped to tell Shinazugawa about this someday, because some part of you believed he would understand it better than the villagers did.

Maybe I should invite him? You thought, pressing your lips together into a line. What’s the harm?

You made a U-turn and headed to Sanemi’s, to find him asleep. Your eyes wandered on his scarred face, his scarred chest, his well-toned muscles. You noticed that his right hand was missing its index and middle fingers, and you believed it was something the profession he had chosen had taken from him. Maybe, I should stop reminding him he saved our lives, you thought, before absentmindedly reaching forward to touch the man’s face.

You almost yelled when he suddenly caught your arm mid-air, and his eyes shot open at your blushing form.

“What the hell are you trying to do?”

You gulped, “T-There was something I wanted to show you.”

“Not interested, woman. Leave me alone—”

“Please, no one in the village understands. I think,” You frowned a bit, which was unusual because this was perhaps the first time he had seen you frown. “I think you’ll understand.”

Maybe, it was the way you said it. Sanemi noticed how hesitant you looked, but when he thought of it, you were perhaps the only one who was even bringing up his demon slaying in conversation. He sighed before sitting up, ignoring your sudden happy expression and waving his hand at you, telling you by action to lead the way.

You lead him into the forest behind the farm, and in a small clearing, Sanemi saw a bunch of rocks embedded on the ground, facing the sky. Upon one glance, he could tell that they were makeshift graves, but he wondered what the hell you were trying to show him.

Why was he the only one who would understand?

“What the—”

“I met this boy a few years ago,” You said, turning to him, kneeling down by the graves. “He had scars on his face just like you.”

There were many boys with facial scars. But, for some reason, Sanemi kept listening, his heart pounding at your every word.

“He told me about this kind brother he had. The one he wanted to meet and rekindle his relationship with. He told me that his kind brother made him want to get very strong, and from the looks of it, he really was strong. He saved my life, after all.”

He didn’t want to believe it, at first. He didn’t want to believe that you had somehow met Genya. And that Genya had saved your life. He did not want to believe that it was Genya you were talking about, but why did this seem so familiar?

“These graves are of kids with no family. Like me. I didn’t know these children, but my heart breaks when I think of them being left behind like that. This demon slayer boy helped me put up these graves. He told me he lost his family to a demon too,”

Sanemi’s breath was stuck in his throat as he watched you carefully.

“His mother was turned. And his kind brother saved his life by killing her. It must have been a nightmare.”

You weren’t saying that out of pity, Sanemi saw the dead look in your eyes—the lack of understand was present, but there was no pity, no sympathy, just... plainness. Somehow, he appreciated that.

“I don’t know what losing a family feels like because I’ve never had one,” You said, looking at the graves now. “But, that boy carried so much pain in his heart and so much love for his brother that it made me want to know.”

His lips quivered but he swallowed any emotion that threatened to spill out. You turn to spot him staring at you, expressionless, hardened, and you smiled.

“I’m sorry I keep troubling you,” You put your hands behind your back, “You just remind me of that boy, that’s all. He had kind eyes, like you.”

It was a few days after that did Sanemi notice that you were being treated harshly by your fellow villagers. He was getting ready to move, but he didn’t know what to tell you. After that night near the graves, he had grown to tolerate your company, but your visits were fewer than before, you gave him a lot less produce whenever you dropped by (not that he wanted you to give him any, at all).

That night, he told you he was leaving. What he expected was a muffled reaction asking him to stay or beg him not to leave.

But your eyes were wide, a growing smile formed on your lips and you looked at him and only him, the gaze almost weakened his knees.

“I’ll come with you.”

It was a simple sentence but for some reason, Sanemi thought this one sentence could destroy every bit of strength that was left in his bones. He had assisted in ending the reign of demons, but there you were, giving him a determined expression, your hair disheveled, your kimono old from having been washed too many times, and your hands behind your back.

Your determination could end him.

And for some reason, Sanemi wouldn’t mind letting that happen.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He snapped, eyes glaring at her face.

“Shinazugawa-san,” You said, sweetly, “There’s no need for you to be harsh anymore,”

His eyes widened.

“There are no demons left,” You were twirling on the ground you were standing on, “There’s nothing that should cause you to hide your softness.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You approached him, looking directly into his eyes, capturing his breath in a way he never thought possible. Sanemi’s eyes widened but you remained put.

“During times like this, Shinazugawa-san,” You smiled softly, “Being soft is a much harder task.”

In an instant, you took his right hand in yours, which he surprisingly doesn’t push away. His heart was beating rapidly and there wasn’t much he could do. Did he want you with him? Did he like your company? What would it be? What could he do?

The way you were looking at him... Damn it, there was no use pushing you away.

He took you to the wisteria estate, which was the closest to the village; Sanemi wanted some relief before heading to a place he had never been to. A hot bath, some good food, and a good night’s sleep on a futon—things he had missed. However, these were things you never had access to, and seeing you try them for the first time warmed his heart.

He found himself talking to you, sitting by the engawa, now that he had learned Genya saved your life. A life that his brother had saved, it was something special whether he would like to admit it or not. He told you about Genya and your eyes widen instantly, recognizing the story, the name attached to the boy, and tears fill your eyes when you learned of what happened.

You couldn’t say anything, you almost couldn’t breathe—and it was Sanemi’s first time seeing you cry.

For some reason, the sight warmed his heart because there was another person feeling sorrow over the loss of his brother. Genya really was kind, Genya was perhaps everything that Sanemi one day wished he was. And here you were, crying for the boy because he was all those things.

Without a second thought, Sanemi’s hand rushed to the side of your cheek, a soft smile sat on his lips as he watched you—the woman whose life his brother had saved—cry because Genya had died. You automatically leaned into his touch, almost as if this wasn’t new, you liked the warmth his hand presented against your cheek and it felt oddly like home.

Huh? You thought, opening your eyes to see Sanemi smile at you. What is home, anyway?

“Shinazugawa-san,” You sniffed, “You really are so kind.”

Sanemi had just given up trying to make you go away. In fact, he had come to accept it, in fact, he was slowly getting used to her being around him. A few days later, you and Sanemi set off in another little journey; where you began to wonder what it was that Sanemi was looking for, and why it was that you followed him so.

Perhaps, you wanted to feel that feeling of home again.

You two were walking across rice fields, the path was rocky yet it was as straight as it could be—and you were attempting to walk along a straight line, just for the heck of it. Sanemi grunted at what you were trying to do, but kept his nose out of it. If you fell down, it would be on you; however, when you did trip, you felt a strong grip grab you by your elbow, preventing your fall. Your eyes were wide at the sudden contact, but you felt grateful nonetheless.

“Careful, idiot.”

You smiled at him, before snaking your arm around his, ignoring the growing redness against Sanemi’s cheeks. You cushioned yourself against him and hummed, suddenly liking the feeling of his warm yet toned stature against your soft and fragile form.

“Sanemi-san,” He had no idea when you started calling him by his first name, but he didn’t mind, “I’ll follow you anywhere if you help me out like that!”

He pushed you away roughly before grunting at you, angered by the sound of your giggling—but ignoring the butterflies swarming in his chest at how happy you looked. Suddenly, all Sanemi could feel was a gnawing sense of fear cascade in his heart, his eyes wide at your laughing face, before he looked away, masking his emotions behind a veil of annoyance.

The fear was familiar; it was the very same feeling he had felt just before losing someone. This fear was the reason he kept pushing Genya away, before it was too late. It was this fear that had turned him into someone he could not even recognize, he was not the Sanemi he was born as. It was this fear that had turned good old kind ‘Nemi into Hashira Shinazugawa Sanemi, brutal, arrogant, brash and ruthless.

“What’s wrong?”

Yet, there you were; figuring him out as if he was meant to be read so easily. As if all the walls he put up were no good. You were like a rabbit that bounced into areas it was not supposed to, yet Sanemi’s wolf-like stature did little to intimidate you.

“None of your business.”

You pressed your lips together before pouting once, pulling away and staring at his face.

“Come on, tell me!”

He gave you a good, long look before understanding something for himself. The woman his brother had saved, it was fate that had brought you to him, and he blamed fate for making you an idiot that he was falling in love with.

It was not hard for Sanemi to accept his feelings; which was what made it so easy for him to accept death, accept the death of his family, accept the death of his comrades. Sanemi might come across as someone who would do anything to run away from his emotions, but he was not the sort. It was because his emotions were so well sought after, because he knew the damage his emotions could cause him, did he put up walls so high.

Yet, how in the world were you getting through?

The two of you reached a tiny village clearing, where its people were more than happy to welcome the both of you. The elders mistook you for a couple, causing you to turn beet red, and earning no response from Sanemi whatsoever. Your eyes widened at his seemingly nonchalant demeanor, but you half expected him to deny that you were anything to him at all.

A small smile sat at your lips before trying very hard to calm your heart.

Sanemi and you were given a regular sized hut, three or four villagers pouring in to give you gifts in the form of provisions and leather. You were thrilled, thinking that this was perhaps the home the two of you needed, however, something didn’t sit right in Sanemi’s mind. Whenever a demon was nearby, he’d get the sense of dread spreading all over the air around him; it would be hard to breathe.

Sanemi slowly felt a tad bit suffocated at the ‘kindness’ the villagers were showing the both of you.

Once inside your hut, Sanemi notices you were watching him as he unpacked—confusing him and shutting him up. He knew that if you had something to say, then you’d say it, but if you were just going to watch him, then he’d let you.

“You didn’t correct them when they called me your wife.”

It was a statement; Sanemi could hear the happiness behind it, and didn’t understand why you were so peppy about the entire ordeal. Something seemed off, weren’t you suspicious? Why were you so ready to accept kindness, even from strangers?

Ah, Sanemi chuckled, it’s because you were like that.

“What’s the use explaining anything to them anyway?”

“Who am I to you then, Sanemi-san?”

Sanemi looked at you now with the wildness of a wolf, his gaze penetrating your very soul. Yet, you didn’t look away; you may have been the most timid creature in the world, but with Sanemi you were fierce, you were everything that he wasn’t, in a world that knew only how to kill. He felt the strange feeling bubble in his chest, before forcing himself to look anywhere else. But, your gaze was fixed on him and even if his eyes were to roam every single inch of his room away from you, he was still being burned by your intensity.

“Do you like boar?”

You gasped, clapping your hands together, “I love boar! Are you going to hunt for me, Sanemi-san?”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, sure. Beats sitting here being stared at.”

You pouted at his words, “Your skills at turning the conversation away are top-notch!”

All you could hear was his chuckle.

The fear continued to bubble in Sanemi’s heart.

He understood well enough more than anyone else that it wasn’t the fear of the demons that was the most terrifying. Nothing was more frightening than a fear you cannot name, and right then, Sanemi felt scared and couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

Was it because of you? Was it because he could lose you in an instant? And he would feel the same—empty, regret and sorrow that he felt when his brother died in his arms? He couldn’t compare the same pain with the hypothetical one, but the mere thought of losing you left him breathless. It was not blind anxiety, here it was possibility; because Sanemi had always lost everything.

In his entire life, keeping something for himself was a dream he knew he couldn’t achieve. This was perhaps why he kept roaming from one village to another; until he met you. You tagged along, making things all the more complicated. Yet, he liked the sound of your voice in the morning, he enjoyed your company and the sound of your laughter rang in his mind even when you were not conscious. And perhaps, the fact that he was in love with you did losing you become more of a possibility, and perhaps, this was what the fear was addressing. That despite not wanting to get close to anyone, you’d managed to crawl into what was left of his sanity, and make yourself feel at home.

Despite everything he had done to ensure he doesn’t lose anyone again, he was back in the most vulnerable state of affairs. This left him weak, ready to be pounced at—but, like you said, there were no more demons.

But, the mistake people often make is associate an evil with an evident form of it. Most often, evil lurks in corners that one would not notice.

Sanemi’s growing dread only made sense once he returned to you. He believed you’d either be making rice or sleeping because you slept more than you spoke sometimes. He liked the sight of your light snores, but what he came home to knocked the wind out of him.

There you lay, wincing, crying, four mean huddled around you—a knife was lodged in your left thigh, and it was clear from the smell of it that you had lost a lot of blood. This is why the village was welcoming, his mind told him. The second he was away, they pounced on you—because you were the weaker link.

“Nemi... Nemi....” You cried, turning to his form at the entrance, clutching your leg because your life did depend on it.

All his faces were designed to express rage or loathing. Now that something had happened which really deserved a face, he had none to celebrate it with. He quietly unsheathed his sword before killing everyone inside the hut, grabbing the one bag of money that they had come for, and picking you up like you were made of feathers, Sanemi rushed away from the village. He didn’t know where to go, but he was certain of the outcome.

As he was running, his eyes leaking tears either from the harshness of the wind or... or because his insides were turbulent, he could not hear your soft whimpers. Only when your shaking hand touched his chin did he pause, look at you—your lower lip trembling, your face deathly pale, your forehead sweaty, and your eyes were struggling to see.

“I won’t...” What were you trying to say? “I won’t die... Nemi... I won’t...”

His eyes widened at your words. That’s it. That was what he was most afraid of. And here you were, addressing it as you were dying.

No.

Taking a deep breath, Sanemi held on to you tighter before rushing to the butterfly estate. It would take him almost an hour to get there, especially if he used his ability, but he was willing to take that chance. The knife was still in your leg, he was unsure if you would hold out till then, but he wanted to trust you.

“I promise... I won’t die, Nemi...” You breathed, your hand clutching the side of his collar.

On reaching the estate, Sanemi quickly walked inside, ignoring the fact that his entire torso was drenched with your blood, you were barely conscious, your hands limp at your side. Aoi, the blue haired girl who was in charge of healing people in there, immediately rushed to his side, asking the others to take you inside.

Sanemi wanted to follow, but the girl stopped him. It was then he took a long hard look at himself, your blood having turned him red entirely. He felt sobs knock at the base of his throat but he wasn’t going to cry. You weren’t dying, you had made a promise, you were not going to die.

But, what if you did?

What if he lost you too?

Sanemi was so sure he would just follow you. There was nothing for him to live for. There was nothing left if not for you.

He never realized he was praying; he never realized that he could. He sat by the engawa after changing into regular extra clothes, and waited for Aoi to come say anything regarding your status.

I won’t die, Nemi.

You had called him Nemi. The last time someone had called him that, they died. He couldn’t help but correlate.

“Shinazugawa-san,” Aoi’s voice sounded softly from the side, “You can go see her. She’s asking for you.”

That was fast. Sanemi’s eyes widened.

“She’s so strong, I... I don’t understand how she can be awake after losing all that blood. We’ve closed the wound on her thigh, she just needs bedrest now. She’ll be fine in a few days. We’re lucky that the knife didn’t hit the bone.”

Were we lucky? Or were you?

Why was it that Sanemi felt the luckiest?

He rushed to where you were, noticing you lying down, eyes were fixed at the door. Were you waiting for him? Idiot, he thought before going to you, leaning over you by the bed. There was no one else in the room apart from the both of you, and all Sanemi could think of was how you had kept your promise.

Maybe...

His eyes were wet with tears now.

Maybe you could stay, after all...

Aoi closed the door behind her, wanting to give the two some space. What she didn’t tell Sanemi was that you refused to take any anaesthesia just so that you could stay awake for him.

You were crazy. And maybe he was too. She could never say.

“I told you I won’t die.”

Sanemi’s hand strokes your cheek before leaning down and kissing you, squarely. You kissed back as if you expected it, your soft hand covering the side of his face. You couldn’t tell if he had done this with other women, but the kiss felt so strong—it reflected who Sanemi was, as a person. It was the kind of kiss that would inspire stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

Upon pulling back, Sanemi’s gaze weakened you, but made your heart stronger.

“I love you, Nemi. My Nemi. My kind Nemi.”

He wanted to break something, but this was his reaction to most things soft. However, instead of breaking something, Sanemi instead chose to kiss you again. You were darkness and he was darkness and there was never anything like this before; only darkness and his lips upon yours. You didn’t even want to speak, his mouth was over yours again. Suddenly, you felt a wild thrill, a thrill you’ve never known. Perhaps it was joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast. You could sense his care when he practically refused to weigh on you, your leg untouched, your injury ignored yet strictly taken care of. When Sanemi made love to you, it was his way of saying he loved you.

He assumed you’d fall asleep after something that intense. He lay next to you, bare chested, the blanket covering only your tiny frame; you were laying on his left hand, with him cradling you from the right. You nuzzled into him more, liking the warmth, and also because you were practically naked under the sheets. He knew you were inches away from falling asleep, which was perhaps what motivated him to speak.

“I love you,” His voice was a whisper, “But I... I can’t lose you.”

A second later, he heard you groan.

“Don’t be stupid.”

Sanemi lay still, vision blurring, and in that moment, he heard his heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

Whoever said that heartbreak was only supposed to be sad? Sanemi’s heart broke at how easily you accepted him, and it was every reason worth breaking.

The next time Sanemi had a nightmare of losing you, he felt a mild slap on his cheek, causing his eyes to open, his lips separate in a gasp. Staring into tiny purple eyes, glaring at him, Sanemi realized he had angered his four-year old girl.

“You were groaning again, ‘tou-chan!”

“Sorry, chibi-chan.”

“Don’t call me chibi-chan!”

His daughter was sitting on his chest as he slept; he turned and noticed it was already mid-day, and he wondered why you hadn’t woken him up yet. Getting up, Sanemi held the back of his chid’s form so as to not have her fall off, and he sat up straight.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Scolding nii-chan.”

Sanemi groaned, “What did he do now?”

Your little girl shrugged, so as to say she doesn’t know, which only made the father all the more curious. Sanemi put the girl down before walking toward the entrance of the house that you two shared. He noticed how you were yelling at your eldest boy, who looked glum with a large frown on his face. That’s why you didn’t wake me, he thought, scratching the back of his head.

“How many times should I tell you that picking on people isn’t how you tell them you like them?”

Your son scoffed, “Whatever.”

“Don’t be stupid!”

Sanemi felt his daughter tug at his left hand, which caused him to turn to her with a questioning gaze.

“Pick me up, ‘tou-chan!”

He instantly picked her up, with her weighing as much as a flower did. Immediately, the child’s fingers traced the outline of his scars, bringing a soft smile to his face when he saw the same smile being reflected back in his daughter’s features. She leaned in and kissed his scar, forcing him to still his movements.

“Aren’t my scars scary?”

The girl shook her head as if it was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard. Perhaps, it was. He’d never know.

“They’re so awesome!”

Sanemi raised his eyebrows. A moment later, your son who was being scolded came over to stand beside his father.

“Nii-chan, aren’t 'tou-chan’s scars awesome?”

As if the boy was suddenly taken out of his stupor, his dark eyes widened, and a large grin plastered on his face.

“Yeah! ‘kaa-chan told us the story behind them!”

Sanemi narrowed his eyes.

“Did she now... What was the story?”

“You saved the world!”

Sanemi’s eyes widened when he spotted you, leaning against the entrance of the door, a wicked grin on your face. Sanemi scoffed before looking away from you, you and your idiotic tease of a personality. A hand rested on his son’s head and he cradled his daughter by his left waist.

But for a second, he swore he heard a voice whisper behind him,

‘My Nemi is the kindest’

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #wind pillar #wind pillar x reader #kny #hashira #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi #shinaguzawa sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba manga spoilers #kny spoilers #genya shinazugawa #shinazugawa #reader insert

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pomegranates-and-blood · 5 years ago

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 1)

(Gif credit to @kikuthestrange)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader (eventual)

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: As usual, mentions and descriptions of blood, death, torture, injury and people being burnt alive. Mentions or allusions to rape. If there’s anything else I didn’t mention, please let me know. Fair warning that the Reader Character may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but please give her a chance.

A/N: Um, idk. Hope you like this, and again, really sorry if this is OOC. That is one hell of an insecurity I have when I start writing for new characters, but I really hope I’m not messing Ivar or any of the others up.

You are focused on the blending of some herbs to help the pain of some of the warriors, when a round metal shield is dropped at your feet. You raise your eyes from the snake engraved on the old metal to the Saxon, giving away nothing except a small twitch of your mouth.

But you know what that symbol is. It is a mark of the Attics.

“Most of the Greeks are dead,” He states, certainly, viciously. Your eyes fall closed, and you heave a sigh. “And I will personally see that the survivors are hunted down.”

You knew this was going to happen. The Varangians cornered Stithulf into the confine of these walls and yet last night he sent a hunting party, the best of the best within his Arab mercenaries.

You knew he wasn’t going to try and kill Ivar the Boneless or his brothers. No, he was going to take revenge on the people he deemed failed him, the people he deemed owed him a victory.

And it makes the whole ground cave under your feet, the realization that it is done. That the last of the Attics lie bloodied on the unforgiving earth. That their faith in you, their love for you, was their downfall.

Just like Narses’.

“I always knew you Christians were just as bloody and cruel as the worst of us,” You say instead, looking down at the shield again and picking it up with trembling hands, “You slaughtered hundreds of innocents.”

“If you had fought for us…” He starts, but you interrupt him with a glare. Some things don’t change even if you get far from home: all it takes to stop an army, to make a man like Stithulf hesitate, is a heathen witch.

If only their God hadn’t taught him to fear yours, the world would be so different.

“We’d all rather be dead than slaves to a Christian.” You hiss out, curling your fingers over the cold and bloodied metal. And you mean more than this battle, this war not your own that regardless you lost; no, you mean Byzantium, and the home you left behind.

“You could have avoided all of this, Greek.” He insists, the scar that runs from his neck to his uneven sideburn stretching around the smile he offers.

For a moment you imagine letting your hand run a knife deeply through that scar, open it again and see it pour red and victorious blood. Trace with a knife over every scar, so that he only remembers the torment you brought him.

No, that’s wrong. Trying to hide the grimace at your own thoughts, you shake off the shame and stand up. Holding on tightly to the shield, you feel you carry the weight of thousands of Greeks on your hand.

And because you were taught speaking things helped make them real, you promise, “Our Gods live on, and the worship of them is not something blades and blood can smother. Quieten, yes, but never silence.”

“You will die for your pagan ways, you know this, don’t you?” He asks, stopping you for a moment at the…honesty in his voice.

“I do not fear death,” You answer, and when you walk past an open window that looks over the foreign and cold horizon you add, quiet enough that only the Gods may hear you, “I welcome it. Let Hades summon me home.”

“I have reached an agreement with the Vikings,” Stithulf calls out, voice loud and echoing in the halls. You grip the shield tighter. “There will be…negotiations tomorrow.”

Your mouth smiles and your tongue runs with dangerous words before you can stop yourself, “You will sit and talk with the same men you scoured the world trying to kill?”

“I know when I am defeated, Greek. Something you lack.”

You say nothing else, the defeat finally setting over your shoulders and all you can do to keep appearances is to keep walking and pretend the tears are not clogging your view as you walk past unfamiliar halls, on unfamiliar grounds, with the weight of unfamiliar and familiar ghosts over your head.

Spending the rest of the day, almost till the sun sets, taking care of some wounds and fevers, you can almost pretend to yourself that the life you give here, the damage you heal here; can start to make up for all the death you and your mistakes have caused.

You raise your head from your work on the stitching when strange rhythmic sounds reach your ears.

Metal on wood. Dragging sounds. Metal on wood again. Something dragged again.

The door to the barren and almost empty home you are using as a makeshift infirmary opens, and the silhouette of Ivar the Boneless stands on the doorway.

Your heart pounds in your ears, and the warrior with his injured skin under your fingers hisses a breath when your needle pierces deeper than intended into his skin. You mumble an apology in Greek, but keep your eyes on the King.

“You don’t need healing.” You quip quietly in his language, rising to your feet and motioning for the Greek you were helping to remain in his seat.

To be honest, you don’t know why you stand up, why you straighten your back and raise your chin. You can pretend to be as tall as you wish, as strong as you wish, but everyone in this room knows if the Varangian wants you dead you will be so.

“I wanted to talk to you.” The Viking offers, forced nonchalance as he approaches. His legs don’t seem to work normally, and the contraptions around them are like you never saw before. The healer in you notes they look…painful.

He gets close enough you can see his handsome face clearly in the candlelight, but far enough you don’t feel threatened. The King remains standing, straight and proud, by one of the wooden pillars.

His pale eyes, you note in the now clear view the candles provide you, switch to the warrior sitting a few feet behind and then return to you. You resist the urge to play with your fingers.

“Why?” You ask, retrieving with trembling hands one of the linens you will use as bandages for the wound on the Greek warrior’s back.

“I’m…curious.”

“So am I,” You reply, rolling the needle you use for the stitches between your thumb and forefinger as you study the man. “It is not every day that I find myself meeting with a Viking King.”

“So you know who I am.” He states, and you cannot know if he is disappointed, proud, or a mix of the two.

“Of course I do,” You answer without hesitation, “And I also know it is not me who you are supposed to be meeting.”

“I wanted to talk with you, witch.” He insists again, reminding you of a spoiled child, but also showing you that, either for the foreignness or something entirely him, the Varangian is uncertain on how to talk to you.

It almost makes a smile curve at your lips, and your impulsive heart wants you to send the warrior off and talk with this strange man, this…Ivar the Boneless.

“I…am busy,” You answer instead, returning to your stitching. If your hand trembles a little and you cause a little more pain than you intended as you finish up the last of the stitches, no one can blame you. “I must tend to the wounded, Varangian.”

“A smart woman would know better than to deny me.”

“I never claimed to be smart.”

“Are you always this insufferable, woman?” He snaps, anger rises in his voice, making the warrior you are standing behind tense under your fingers as they wrap a bandage over his back and ribs to keep the wound from infection.

But you, past the fear, feel a small smile start to curve at your lips when you find the pale eyes of the Varangian King.

“I try.” You reply with a shrug, but a growl is the only answer you get.

You watch with wide eyes as the Viking unsheathes a small knife from somewhere in his chest and, instead of throwing it like you would expect, he flips it so that he grabs onto the blade instead of the handle.

His fist clenches around it, eliciting a sharp breath from the King and blood that drips between his fingers.

“There,” He grunts, opening his hand and letting the knife clatter unceremoniously to the wooden floor. He returns his piercing pale eyes to you and his mouth almost bares in a snarl, his nose furrows in cold anger, as he speaks, “Now you have to tend to me.”

So the rumors were true, he is actually crazy. Although you doubt a man that can topple Aelle, that can conquer York, is crazy.

No, he is clever. If maybe too angry and arrogant, he is still cunning. That thought alone reminds you to keep your guard up.

A part of your mind begs you to be sensible about this, not to do anything stupid, but you finish wrapping the wound on the warriors back with skilled fingers, and tap his shoulder so that he stands. Ivar the Boneless keeps his eyes on you, defiantly and terrifyingly, as he watches you move. You turn your attention to the Greek and nod as goodbye, “Go, I will be fine.”

The man looks between the Varangian and you, before putting his right fist to his heart, his left arm bent behind him in a goodbye and a sign of respect to you.

“Anassa.” He mutters in farewell, and you watch him go wondering how many days will it take for him to also die because of your mistakes.

And as the door closes behind the Greek, you notice truly how engulfing the darkness and the defenselessness are. The city moves on around you, but all that reaches the small cabin you are in is the faint sounds of a stray horse or farm animal. The Saxons wouldn’t want the heathen witch to be near their soldiers, after all, even in a city that was never theirs with barely any civilians on it.

All that means you are all alone and defenseless, with a Viking known for his cruel and vicious ways. Gritting your teeth and fighting to keep your heartbeat from drumming away in your ears, you turn back to the Varangian and motion for a chair near you.

He doesn’t move. Of course he doesn’t, because no one in this cursed land listens to a damn word you say.

His hand still drips red to the wooden floor, and you pointedly look at it where it rests on his side and back to his face. The King only cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed.

“You speak many tongues,” The Varangian states, not even a question, “Our language, the Saxons’, but I don’t recognize the other one.”

“Greek,” You reply, “I am not from here.”

“I noticed.”

With a shrug, you state, “Probably why you haven’t killed me yet, isn’t it?”

But the Viking doesn’t answer. Instead, he limps towards you, but where there should be -to a sane woman, maybe- a threat, a danger, you only find your heart beating with the same fast pace it did when you were about to cross a dangerous and wild stream by Eleusis’ forests. A hint of fear, a hint of curiosity, and much more than a hint of freedom.

The rage of the stream deafened you, uncertainty beat quickly on your chest…but your bare feet still continued running towards the water.

You keep your eyes on his.

“You are…outspoken, witch. Are all Greeks like you?”

“You should lower your eyes when men are speaking.” He advises with more than a little anger in his tone.

You hear faintly of Sieghild’s mocking scoff, and you stand up from your chair and stalk to Narses in a few strides, keeping your eyes on him. A sick part of you is trying to test him, to dare him into laying hands on you to shut you up.

The lies would come easier if he did.

“I cower before no man, my love.” The endearment drips with poison, and the twitch in his expression tells you he is aware of it.

There’s rustling of armor, and out of the corner of your eye you catch sight of Lysander straightening to his full height, the mantle of the soon-to-be Anax of Sparta set well over his shoulders as he walks calmly towards you.

For a moment of distrust and panic, you think he will take the side that wants to silence you, but your cousin stands next to you, although slightly behind, offering you his support. His hand is comforting on your shoulder.

“You may do things differently in Attica, but in Laconia our women are not slaves,” Lysander promises, voice dripping authority and more than a slight threat, “Descendant of Theseus, aren’t you?” He breathes out a chuckle, “You will have to venture into the Underworld like your ancestor to make a woman of Spartan blood cave.”

You breathe out a laugh, “No.”

“So you are not afraid of me.”

You look into his pale eyes and wonder for a moment. What is there to fear? It is true his fame precedes him, even if you choose to ignore his name, his truth. Rumors of madness, ruthlessness, unpredictability, rage, cruelty; they all are kept safely in your mind, to torment you faintly with exactly the kind of beast you try to dance with.

But you remember the time that mad man in the flimsy boat offered to take you to cross the Aegean, and how the threat of pain and death and cold all hung over you like shadows; and yet the curiosity of what lay in the realm of what if made you still get on that feeble boat. You have a feeling it is the same kind of stubborn and reckless curiosity that makes you offer the King a small smile.

“I learned long ago not to fear any man, Varangian.” You answer, motioning with your hand to his injured one, hoping for response this time.

The Viking’s eyes are defying as they challenge yours, but you refuse to lower your gaze. He sits by you on one of the chairs, movements graceful and confident as he discards the crutch he uses to walk by the table.

After a breath, he offers you his injured hand.

You don’t hesitate, even if a part of you tells you that you should, and take a seat at his side, working instinctively as you start wetting a clean cloth in some water infused with honeysuckle and goldenseal.

Taking his hand and opening the rough fingers to your sight and touch, you clean off the blood and hope silently that you are not the one responsible for Ivar the Boneless getting an infection for a stupid wound on his hand.

“Why are you and your people here, if you are from the Mediterranean?” He asks suddenly, but it doesn’t startle you like it should.

With a deep breath and keeping your eyes on your work, you offer, “The obvious answer would be attacking your city, my King.”

“And retreating.” He points out lowly, not biting into your taunt.

Lifting your eyes to his, you search his pale gaze for a few moments. You offer him sincerity in exchange for his calm, “The Christians were going to surrender, we knew this the moment your army arrived. We had no interest in this war of yours.”

“Then why fight in it?”

“Obvious answer, my King?” You ask around a smirk, and the man’s eyes darken as he leans closer. A finger underneath your chin threatens you as much as a sharp blade could, and you swallow past a dry throat.

“Careful.” He cautions, and his lips curve around a smile as dangerous and poisonous as it is enthralling and tempting.

“Our commander agreed we aided the Saxons in exchange for their army’s help in our homeland. With my-…with the commander dead the Greeks were called to retreat.”

“But not you,” He points out, still uncomfortably close. “You didn’t retreat.”

You wish you had an answer to his unspoken question. But you don’t. You could have run with Galla and the others, you could have forged your own path with Sieghild away from battle, the Gods know you have done so before.

You could have, but still you fell back to the Saxon city as if survival was to be achieved only by acceptance of defeat.

“A lady ought to have her secrets, I’m afraid.” You answer instead, lowering your eyes back to your work. Although you can sense the young Viking wants to demand more, because of course he does, he remains silent.

______

Hi, thank you for reading! I really hope you are liking this so far, and that it isn’t boring lol

Again, thank you so much, and I’d love to hear from you!

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings imagine #vikings #νοσταλγία masterlist #νοσταλγία

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thebigoblin · 4 years ago

Note

For some reason i was listening to this is home - cavetown and came to the crushing realization that if fits sterek kinda well???? Its always been my song for comfort but the other day i was listening to it and got slapped in the face by sterek feels-

I just listened to it right now (x) and I have soooo maaaanyyy feeels. Goddammit, Sterek. Let me have one hour in peace.

Anyways. So.

Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love but I guess

This avoids the stress of falling out of it

Are you tired of me yet?

This is soo Derek. He has been burned by love (both literally and figuratively), first with the death of his first love (which he had to do, even if it was a mercy killing he did kill her) and then he thought this woman loved him enough to want him as he was: broken, young, inexperienced. Grieving.

And then Kate showed him exactly what it means to love someone like him.

It always ends in death.

So now Derek doesn't fall in love. He doesn't even make friends, doesn't socialize. He doesn't let anyone enter the fortress of his solitude, not even Laura, knowing he is the reason they've lost their pack. He doesn't deserve that kind of love.

He waits for Laura to tire of him. To be frustrated and angry at him, to tell him he means nothing to her anymore, because even though he hasn't told her he knows why the fire happened—knows who did it—he is been nothing but a thorn in her side, anything but helpful in her endeavor to help rebuild their lives.

He waits and waits for Laura to tire of him, to kick him out of the two person pack—and she does. But not the way he wanted.

She dies and leaves him alone and there is no one to nag at him to get his shit together, to make him see that he can be loved, should be; but it's not at all what he wanted.

I'll hide my chest

And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

This can be both Derek and Stiles... but I see it more for Stiles. Idk why.

Derek plays his cards close to his chest, but he does all he can to try and protect the others. We don't really see him be anything but angry in the earlier parts of the show, and you can't make me believe that the person who gave up his Alpha powers for his sister, who trusted Peter (when he was the Alpha) despite the things he'd done simply because he's family, won't be grieving for the only family he thought he had.

And then there's Stiles. Stiles '147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones. Sarcasm is my only defense' Stilinski who is human and logically the weakest person in a show of mythical creatures. And he is. He is weak. Physically, he knows he can't take on Peter or the Kanima or the Alpha Pack. And he is terrified of that. But you know what he does? He fights in spite of that. He talks, he plans, he misguides, and he fights. He fights because he won't let anyone hurt him or the ones he wants to keep safe.

Stiles, too, 'hides' his true feelings and figures out a way to get them out of their problems. (Does that make sense??)

Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead

'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head

But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

This one is kinda self-explanatory isn't it... Derek is haunted by his past and it's made him into a person who can and is willing to sacrifice his own life without a second thought.

'I know what I'm risking. My life for theirs.'

He doesn't exactly have anything to live for. But he's brave. He's going through hell and he keeps going.

He doesn't want to sleep. Not yet.

Get a load of this monster

He doesn't know how to communicate

His mind is in a different place

Will everybody please give him a little bit of space

Get a load of this train-wreck

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

The first two lines... these are also self-explanatory. I see this as things Stiles thinks (not the monster part, not once he's rationalized that mythical creatures exist in the world) about Derek. (Honesty, I think we all think that lol).

Derek is not good at communication. He wants something but he does something else. He wanted Isaac to leave him so that The Alpha Pack can't leverage his third beta against him, hurt him/kill him like Erica (and Boyd, but I don't remember if he was alive during this time or not), but the way he made Isaac leave was to bank on Isaac's trauma—if I am remembering correctly, this is when he throws the glass at Isaac.

Derek is so not good at communication. And he is definitely a train-wreck; he never wanted to be the Alpha and he still becomes one. He never wanted for Laura to come back to BH (probably why he himself didn't come back here while she did) but she did anyways and he lost her. He didn't want to kill Peter, but he had to anyway.

He lost who he was in the chaos of his life. And he doesn't know who he is anymore—he isn't even the Alpha anymore, he's lost that, and he's been human too.

He keeps losing who he is. He keeps losing his identity.

Derek Hale doesn't know who he is supposed to be.

But maybe...

But little do we know, the stars

Welcome him with open arms

...This is how it was supposed to be.

Maybe this was all fate. All of it, from the loss of Paige to his evolution, maybe it was all mapped out in the stars. Maybe it was supposed to happen.

Just so he could find who he is.

And who he is? He's the best legacy his family could have asked for. He's a predator, and he's a killer, but he's not a cold-blooded killer. He's strong, he's brave, and he is good. He's someone who has had the worst life but come out of it a brighter person, a burning sun; a moon that shines brighter the more that it wanes, because Derek? He's learned to hide his craters, and he's learned to live with them.

Alternatively, though, 'the stars' could also mean Stiles (his moles, scattered along his skin like constellations), the only one who opened his arms for Derek even when he didn't have to. Like saving his life even when they weren't anything to each other.

Time is slowly

Tracing his face

But strangely he feels at home in this place

Time heals wounds, doesn't it?

Derek gets better with time. He doesn't just live, but he's alive. He is living.

Since I've gone full canon up until now, I'll continue post-canon here: Stiles and Derek, we know how their story goes up till S6B. We know how much Stiles means to Derek and Derek to Stiles, even if it wasn't strictly said aloud in canon.

We know.

And I... well. I think that Stiles and Derek say it aloud. To each other. How much they matter to each other.

It might be during one of those high-tension missions, the pack preparing to fight against Monroe, making plans and doing everything they can. Stiles is planning, laying out rules and objectives and making sure to drill into one of them how important this is, and Derek watches him and he watches Lydia, the girl who has Stiles' heart. (Only she doesn't, and she knows it).

And then Stiles says he will come, too. But it's too dangerous.

Derek immediately objects.

Everyone goes deathly silent. Because Stiles is the one who is 100% capable of them all, who is the best on their side (being FBI does that, as does being part of ops like this since he was 16, even if Stiles wasn't as badass as he is now).

Stiles is angry.

"So, what, you wanna be the martyr, then? Is that what you want?"

Derek is angrier. (He is terrified).

"You'll get hurt!"

"I will not! Even if I do, it's my fucking job—I'll get hurt if it means keeping you all safe!"

"You can die!"

"So I will die!"

"No, Stiles, you will not. I—"

"What do you mean I will not—"

"—can't lose you too!"

Yes, this is total cliché, but I am a total simp for cliché so :D

And yeah, after? When they've defeated Monroe and are back to 'normal,' Derek and Stiles fill the parts of each other that they've lost over the years. They make a home for themselves. In each other, with each other.

(And okayyyyy, wow. I did not mean to get so into this but... here we are. I totally obsessed over this lol).

(Also this is a beautiful song, if a bit sad? Anyways, now I have a new song to listen to so thanks <3)

#answered ask #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #teen wolf #wowzee this is a looooong post #♥️♥️♥️#dirtbag-inc

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bybibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Honey, Just Tell Him

Bucky Barnes x reader One Shot

You’re much less quiet about your obsession with the idea of being fucked by Bucky Barnes than you should be. What if, one day, he catches on?

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), a smidge dubcon, oral (f receiving), choking, gagging, exhibitionism, bit of bondage, spanking, face slapping, degradation

note: idk what exactly happened here but this is my filthiest one yet. the working title was BUCKY VIOLENT SMUT so do with that what you will. feel free to yell at me in the comments

Bucky Barnes was strong. Everybody knew this, everybody was intimidated. He was a bit of a violent guy – came with the territory – and everybody flinched whenever he rose his voice. Granted, that wasn’t often, but recruits knew not to approach him unprompted. He wouldn’t actually hurt them, especially not the new ones, but he had a century worth of deadly reflexes on his side, and anyone would be clever not to tempt him into letting his inhibitions go.

But you, you wanted those inhibitions gone. Practically every mission you were on with him, whenever you watched him squeeze the life out of various villains with that fucking metal arm, whenever you marveled at his insane precision every time he pulled the trigger on one of his guns, whenever he threw his favorite knife, you were as wet between your legs as the blood seeping from Bucky’s victims.

It was hot beyond relief and such a contrast to his sweetheart-self at home. Not that he wasn’t sexy every minute of every day, but this danger that oozed off of him whenever he needed to be a weapon was difficult for you not to find attractive.

“You have to stop staring at him.” Natasha came up right next to you, and you almost jumped out of your skin. That pathetic hiding spot behind one of the punching bags that hung from the ceiling apparently wasn’t all that secretive. “He’ll notice it one day. If he hasn’t already.” The sound of her voice traveled from one of your ears to the other as she walked to stand behind you so you wouldn’t be seen by Bucky. To your luck, he was preoccupied with his own punching bag.

“I can’t,” you whispered, “and you know it.” Your obsession had become prominent enough for it to be your main topic on girls’ nights.

“Honey, just tell him.” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, but her tone was traced with annoyance.

“Tell him?” you screeched, though still barely above a whisper, “tell him what exactly? Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?”

Natasha couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Maybe not in those exact words. But I’m willing to bet he’d fuck you sideways till Sunday or whatever you want to call it if you just asked. He’s not shy about it.”

You groaned. You were painfully aware of how not-shy he was about his sex life. There barely passed a night in which you didn’t have to listen to Bucky going to town with a random girl he had brought home. His room was next to yours, and at this point you were convinced that the universe had constructed this specifically to torture you. “Don’t remind me.”

As Bucky sent the already weak punching bag flying across the room with a hearty kick, you were ready to whimper. The image of you getting shoved against a wall in a similar fashion was instantly on your mind. Helpless, you felt jealousy grow in your chest when Bucky waved over a new recruit towards the sparring mat.

Natasha chuckled beside you, taking a deep breath to get ready to ruin your life. “Hey, Barnes!” She stepped around the punching bag, pulling you with her. “I got a better opponent for you!”

A minute later, you were stood at the opposite side of the mat, facing Bucky. You weren’t enhanced yourself, much like Nat wasn’t, but you had taken him down before. Although, you weren’t sure you would again, not if he looked like that. The shirt was rudely tight and even the obvious sweat stains didn’t repulse you, rather on the contrary. He was panting, that signature smirk on his lips taunting you.

“Anything off limits?” he asked and you already felt your stance weaken.

You shook your head. “You know the drill, Barnes.”

“Then c’mon, doll,” he said lowly, “give me everything you’ve got.”

Naturally, you pounced. His hands met you half way, firm around your waist to throw you over his shoulder a second later, but yours were still free to punch him straight in the jaw. He didn’t take the time to wipe at the corner of his mouth were a bead of blood was gathering, of course he didn’t, and instead spun you around, one arm switching to wrap around your throat. It wasn’t enough to cut off your airway and you appreciated that. It gave you the opportunity to drop your weight in his hands. He’d let go, you knew it, so he wouldn’t actually choke you, and you would use that as leverage to hook a leg around one of his to make him falter.

Bucky fell, rolling over in an attempt not to crush you, and you sighed when he gave you enough time to get back on your feet.

“You’re holding back,” you said, complaining. This wasn’t how training was supposed to go.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” His stance called for a time out, and you relaxed as well.

“Yeah,” you said, “you’re coddling me and you’re giving me all those opportunities to take advantage of you.”

Bucky laughed, whole-heartedly. “You’re taking advantage of me?”

Your lips pulled together in a pout. “Haven’t you noticed? You’re open everywhere. It’s no fun if you let me win.”

His smile darkened. “So you’re telling me to go all in? No mercy whatsoever?”

“Yes, obviously!” You bounced on the balls of your feet, excited now. You’d been craving a real challenge. Okay, more like craving something vastly different from Bucky, but this was the next best thing.

A second later, your back smacked against the mat, wind knocked from your lungs. You hadn’t even seen it coming. “What the fuck,” you coughed, Bucky’s face appeared above you. “I wasn’t ready.”

He cocked his head. “You said no mercy. Nobody would wait for you in a real fight.”

“This is a real fight.” Your lungs were still not fully filling up and you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

Bucky laughed again. “Not a fair one, doll. You’d never win against me.”

Like hell you wouldn’t. Once you had regathered your strength and will to fight, your hands flew up, trying to push him off, but he was quicker. In one swift move, he trapped your wrists above your head. No matter how much you struggled, they wouldn’t budge.

“Face it, doll.” God, when had his mouth become so close? “You’re a weak little thing. Nothing against my power. I could do anything I want to you like this and you’d just have to endure it. Only begging can help you now.”

A whimper caught in your throat and you swallowed it down. He couldn’t know.

But his hearing was enhanced. “What was that, princess? Am I hurting you?”

He was but you couldn’t let it show. You shook your head. Any second the two of you stayed in this position was too amazing to pass up on. Princess?

Bucky leant down to whisper. “Don’t lie to me.” His hot breath fanned across your neck, forcing out goosebumps in their wake. “It won’t do you any good.”

You were at a loss for words. What had gotten into him? Part of you was suddenly convinced you had hit your head too hard against the mat and where now unconscious and dreaming. But when he scraped his teeth along your jaw line, practically biting down, you knew. No dream felt like this. You felt your nipples as taut pebbles against your sports bra, your core practically aching already.

“You’re wet, aren’t you, doll?” he asked, and you shook your head vehemently. But Bucky scoffed, “bad girl. Still lying even when I told you not to.” He wouldn’t let up, instead spoke again, and you pressed your thighs together at his words. “I can smell it on you.”

Now you couldn’t hold back the whimper. It forced itself out of your throat in a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Bucky chuckled. “There we go,” he said, still so fucking close to your ear. “I told you you’d lose against me.”

You shook your head, entire body thrashing with it. The attempt wasn’t to get him off you, but rather because you couldn’t contain your energy. His words were doing unspeakable things to you.

“No?” The mocking tone hadn’t left his voice. “Go on, then. Try to escape.” But your hands were glued to the mat, he didn’t even try to spare you some of his colossal weight that pressed against your body. That and the sheer weight of his words kept you immobilized entirely. “Thought so.”

You puffed out a breath in annoyance. This wasn’t fair at the slightest. He was being mean for no damn reason. But you couldn’t deny the way it was making you feel. Being at his mercy like this was exhilarating.

His free hand firmly grasped your jaw. “I don’t like that little attitude on you,” he said and with the way he was holding you, it was impossible for you to respond. “You think you can just lie here, pretending you’re not fucking turned on, when we both know that you’re parading your filthy state of mind all day every day?”

Oh God, did he somehow know about your pathetic crush on him? Was this punishment for letting it consume you?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he continued, “you’re not the innocent victim in this. You’ve been telling everyone in detail how you want me to rail you. ‘Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?’ That can be arranged, doll. You could have just asked.”

Was he actually serious? This had to be some cruel joke. “Did Nat tell you?” Suddenly, there was deep pit in your stomach. But Bucky wouldn’t have any of it.

“She didn’t have to,” he said, “not only can I smell your arousal – by the way, it’s so prominent right now that I can almost taste it – but you can’t really hide from my enhanced hearing. Especially when we’re in the same room and you’re literally begging to be fucked.” The hand on your jaw finally released you, only to run down the hollow of your throat until it found the hemline of your sports bra. Inches away from your breasts, you arched your back, trying to push them into his grip.

“Oh, you really are a little slut,” Bucky murmured, “aren’t you, princess?”

It didn’t feel like a question, so you didn’t reply. But the need to shake your head in a pathetic attempt to maintain your propriety remained.

“No?” He almost laughed, and you felt the offending puff of air against your neck. “So you don’t touch yourself and moan my name? You’ve never told any of your friends how you want me to fuck you hard enough to leave bruises? Because I’m pretty sure I heard you. Are you telling me I imagined all of that?”

You wished you could tell him that he was imagining it, that there wasn’t an undeniable pool of your arousal seeping through your yoga pants – which he could apparently smell – and that you weren’t hungry for him like you like you hadn’t eaten in months. But he had told you not to lie. You shook your head once more.

Bucky smiled against your skin. “Then tell me, princess, are you a little whore?” He finally brushed his fingers against your nipple and that alone compelled you to say, “yes!”

“There we go,” he hummed, “you can’t hide from me.” Briefly, he pushed your wrists into the mat, signaling for you to keep them there. At this point, you had almost forgotten they were there at all, so at ease with being unable to move.

Then, less asking for permission – because he knew he had it – and more finally taking what he wanted, he wrenched open your legs, calloused hands firmly on your knees. They slid up, up towards your center, but ignored it completely, and you were ready to cry when they settled on your stomach instead.

You whined high in your throat, and Bucky full-on laughed at you. “You want me to touch your cunt, is that it?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question, “poor thing. You’ve been bad, princess.”

Princess. There it was again. Where was that coming from? Before today, he had never used that word, much less in this context, but you didn’t get the opportunity to think about it further, because Bucky tore at the fabric of your sports bra and pushed it up, finally freeing your tits. Instantly, he attached his mouth to one of your nipples – all teeth, sucking harshly.

“God, fuck!”

Bucky came up for air, regarding you for a half-second. “Shut up,” he said, an unimpressed growl in his voice, “you want the whole compound to hear us?”

You hadn’t thought of that. Right now, you had your tits out in the middle of the gym. There were floor-to-ceiling windows practically everywhere. Anyone could see. But you didn’t care. All you wanted was more of Bucky, whatever he would give you.

Before you could give him an answer, he brought your scrunched-up bra higher up until it was level with your mouth, and without waiting for you to react, he shoved the fabric between your teeth. You were trapped, arms pressed against your head as the tight garment held them in place, silencing you.

He went on, bringing all his attention to your other nipple while the first one lie completely forgotten, soaked skin tortured by the air conditioning. You wanted to touch it yourself, twist and pull to imitate his teeth but you weren’t allowed.

“More,” you moaned instead, voice muffled by your sports bra. You could feel him smile against your bud, the tender skin slick with his spit there as well.

“You need to learn to behave, little girl,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, his face back in front of yours, “you’ve wanted me for so long and now that you finally have me you can’t wait five minutes?” He scoffed. “I thought you were better than that.”

Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to beg. “Please, Bucky, please.” Speaking now – as coherently as you could – you didn’t recognize your own voice. The desperation was heavy and a borderline moan traced every syllable, even through your makeshift gag.

Bucky took pity on you. Partly, at least. He leaned back to unceremoniously pull at your yoga pants as well as you underwear until you were completely bare from the head down. There was a significant rise in his power like this, him above you fully clothed while he had you writhe and moan naked beneath him. You loved every second.

Fully bypassing your clit where he knew for a fact was the place you ached for him the most, Bucky plunged two of his fingers straight into your pussy. They were thick, thicker than your own, and longer on top of that, instantly reaching spots you could only dream of by yourself. You were ready to mewl but the possibility of him stopping at all when he had barely begun and it already felt like this was too much of a threat.

Bucky watched your nostrils flare as you tried your best not to cry out while also continuing to bring enough air into your lungs. One hand keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers fucking into your cunt, the other went to stroke your chest. “You think you can be a good girl for me and stay quiet?” he asked, and it was the gentlest he had been this whole time, “I’ll get you out of this.” His free hand found your makeshift gag, slightly pulling the fabric tighter against your lips. It was now fully lodged between your teeth. He was teasing you.

You nodded as much as you could in your restraint. Part of you wanted it gone. What if you moaned again, then? Would he punish you?

“If you say so,” he drew the words out, warning you. And he slipped the sports bra, its fabric soaked in your spit, up your arms and off. One-handed, unsurprisingly, and kept his other hand between your legs, warm flesh fingers pumping into you. His thumb joined the party, lightly flicking your clit and you would have almost lost your composure, had it not been for the raise of Bucky’s brow. You didn’t want to disappoint just seconds after being granted some mercy.

You had known he was good at this – countless nights of having to listen to him take apart is conquests were proof enough – but you hadn’t expected the feeling of drowning like this. Cotton in your ears, you noticed yourself to be almost paralyzed. Anything physical that was restraining you was gone by this point, his hands only there to pleasure you. What kept you without movement were solely his words and your desire to be good for him.

But then, his metal fingers replaced his flesh hand in your pussy, consequently hitting the most delicious spot while he kept his thumb on your clit, and you couldn’t contain the high-pitched moan that burst from your lips in surprise. It was met, even more shockingly, with Bucky’s hand slipping from you only to slap across your cheek.

Your head whipped to the side harshly, almost straining your neck. He eyed you dangerously when you looked back at him and your stomach churned.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

The thought was there. That you should lie, deny him that power over you, but he would have seen right through it.

“Don’t play innocent. I could feel your walls clench around me, grip me so fucking tight,” he groaned, “wanna squeeze my cock like that, princess?”

The frantic nodding of your head happened on its own accord and your hips bucking only underlined it further. He laughed at you.

“Fucking hell you’re desperate,” he said, “and I’m all here for it.” The confession was accompanied by a bruising kiss. He stopped his ministrations on your pussy, but the kiss was so good that you didn’t even fully notice. It was the first of its kind, Bucky’s lips tangling with yours deliciously. Tiny, tiny whimpers slipped through and he ate them all up, quite literally.

When he pulled away, his eyes were even darker than before, they almost weren’t even blue anymore. You were certain your facial expression mirrored his, though presumably, you looked more wrecked that he ever would.

“I should keep you like this forever,” he mused, “bound and chained to any flat surface just for me to take you and take you until you’re bruised and aching, dripping with cum. You would be the pettiest sight.”

Your breath hitched. The thought of that was starting to get to you embarrassingly harshly. It sounded it amazing.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he continued, “wanna be a good little girl for me?”

“Please.”

“Think you’ve been good enough for me to taste you?” he asked and you went to respond but Bucky answered for himself, “I don’t think you have. A good girl wouldn’t have flaunted herself, worn those skimpy little outfits when outside it’s fucking snowing, told anyone who would listen how much you need to get railed. No, you’ve been bad, asking for it without actually asking for it.” Bucky slapped you square on the thigh and you jumped in surprise, whimpering.

“That’s what I want,” he said, “so sensitive that you flinch when I raise my hand, reduced to nothing but a complying, whimpering mess.”

Your eyes nearly rolled back in bliss. That simple thought went further than your own fantasies, but sounded delicious. “Your mess,” you agreed. Bucky smiled.

By now, you were dripping down to his wrist, your pussy letting out a filthy squelch every time he pushed his metal fingers in. Accidentally focusing on that, on how embarrassing it really was, you didn’t register how Bucky propped himself up on his elbows between your thighs, but the first contact of his tongue against your cunt definitely didn’t go unnoticed. You bucked against his face on accident and Bucky pulled back instantly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled, “you’ll take whatever I give you, not a fraction more.”

But you couldn’t stop. Being turned on way past the breaking point, and his mouth was too skilled for you to just lie there, unresponsive. Bucky got up a moment later, cussing you out under his breath as he walked over to the wall of weights across the room.

You thought he was leaving you altogether, that you had annoyed him one too many times, but the thoughts died right when you opened your mouth to call after him. Because Bucky returned, a barbell in hand. Eyes widening, you watched it come closer until it sat square across your abdomen. It wasn’t tight enough to make breathing more difficult, but enough to trap you against the mat. He smirked at the sight, towering above you.

“This is what happens if you don’t comply, princess,” he said darkly, “but you’ll bend against my will eventually, even if I have to force you.”

Bucky was back between your legs before you knew it, resuming his work against your pussy. He forewent your clit entirely, much to your dismay, but beneath the little contraption, you had no choice but to endure the teasing.

He looked up at you the entire time, watching your reactions closely as he ran the tip of his tongue across your lips lazily. He was waiting for you to break, prompting a punishment the closer he got to your clit. But you were stubborn, unwilling to let him win this. You would behave and stay quiet like your life depended on it.

Bucky saw that and chose to grant you some mercy and he suddenly felt the urge to witness you climax from just his tongue alone. He watched your eyes screw shut the moment he latched his lips to your clit and sucked, running his flat tongue all over it a second later. Somewhere deep down he knew she should reprimand you, tell you to keep your eyes on him and not your own fantasies, but the sight was prettier than he had imagined. You looked better than any girl before you, had a richer taste, more exhilarating smell and feel, and were altogether breathtaking. He should have done this much sooner.

But you didn’t give him more time to contemplate, as you began to involuntarily fight against your restraint, bucking your hips for more friction where you craved it the most. You were close, that much was clear, and even though he wanted to torture you some more and deny you that pleasure, if you looked this already, he needed to know what you would look like orgasming.

You held it off for as long as you could. Then, you began to beg. “Please,” you whined, not caring about the consequence, “please, Bucky, please. I need to cum. Fuck, fuck, please let me cum.”

Bucky listened to your begging for a while longer, urging you on with two fingers against your g-spot and his tongue on your clit. Once your words turned into incoherent babbling, he knew it was time. “Come on, then, princess,” he said, voice still hard, “cum for me. Right now or you won’t cum at all.”

And you did. Finally being granted permission, you allowed yourself to let go, to let all that pent-up frustration wash over you in a tidal wave that shook you to the core. A string of broken curses left your lips with a volume that went silent against your own deaf ears. In all that haze, you even lifted the bar on your chest about an inch off the ground, pushing your hips further into Bucky’s hands. His ministrations kept going, keeping you going, and pulled every fraction of your orgasm from your body until you were reduced to a whimpering heap of heavy limbs.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, making his way back up your body. He ripped the weights off of you and effortlessly tossed them across the room. “Gonna fuck you now, baby.”

You whined in response, the only response you managed.

“What was that, princess?” he asked panting, right in front of your face, “think you can take me?”

When he had shoved down his pants and underwear, you had no idea, but suddenly, you felt the head of his cock against your thigh. You jumped in surprise. Bucky chuckled.

“Thought so.” But he angled himself against you anyway, before slowly pushing in. “Fuck,” he moaned instantly. Not even when you dared to thrust your hips against his did he intervene, instead he let it slide this one time. But you grew cocky, and did it again. You weren’t able to a third time, however, because Bucky wrapped the metal hand around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you all the way. “Feeling brave, are we?”

The growl in his voice did not fall to deaf ears. And deep down, you felt bad for not following orders but the feeling of finally getting fucked by Bucky Barnes was too great. “Please, I can’t wait anymore. Please I need it so bad.” His grip around your throat wasn’t tight enough for you to stay silent.

“I’m gonna have to teach you patience, princess,” he scoffed, “this won’t do.” But instead of making true to his word, he simply grabbed your hip harshly, angling them up towards his. The movement brought blissful friction against your g-spot, and you couldn’t contain the yelp. Bucky placed his flesh hand over you mouth, the metal one still around your neck. “Next time.”

With that, he began a brutal pace. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight, little slut.” The words were more growled that spoken, gritted teeth displaying how concentrated he was. Bucky was chasing his own pleasure above yours, partly as punishment, partly because he couldn’t help it. But you wouldn’t complain with the way his thrusts hit all the right spots anyway.

The urge to scream his name was there, but all that came out was a muffled whine. Bucky leant down, smirking. “Huh? You trying to say something? Too bad.” His hips only moved faster, harder, and you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock.

He lifted you, balancing you on his thighs as he used your hips for leverage. You could feel your skin getting caught between the plates of his metal hand. Bucky watched your jaw fall slack and eyes screw shut.

“You better keep looking at me, princess,” he hissed between his gritted teeth, “and don’t you dare make a sound.”

That was easier said than done. With the way he was making you feel so fucking good, they way he spoke, you developed a kink for his voice right there and then. The whines with every breath you took were much harder to hold back. When Bucky grew tired of it, he tore off his own shirt only to shove it between your teeth. “Shut up.”

His strong scent engulfed you instantly, and you could clearly discern a mix of his deodorant and sweat from working out. It was relentlessly filthy but this close to edge, it wouldn’t matter what he forced on you, it would turn you on. Embarrassingly enough, a long moan could be heard even through the soaked fabric in your mouth when Bucky rubbed his thumb all over your clit.

“You need to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, also slightly breathless by now.

You nodded harshly, desperate to be good for him, to silently beg for him as much as you could. And he chose to be merciful.

The nod came before his words. “Do it.” His voice held a strained grumble. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock. Cum like the good whore that you are.”

And, fuck, you did. The second orgasm was completely different from the first. That one would have pulled your legs from beneath you had you been standing, rolling over you in a blissful wave. This one tightened all your muscled simultaneously, a slow-motion tingle in every corner of your nerves. You arched your back, shuddering your hips in his hold for even more friction. The scream was only silenced by his shirt, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were grateful for it.

Bucky felt your walls clench around his girth as he continued to fuck you in deep, harsh thrusts that only spurred your orgasm on further. “Fuck,” was all he said, groaning in bliss as he watched you cum, all for him.

It didn’t take long for him to follow you down the rabbit hole. His hips faltered as he struggled to keep up the reckless rhythm. “Fuck, princess.” Bucky was close, that much was evident in his heated stare. “Look at me, slut” he said, “look at me when I cum inside you.”

You obliged, because it was all you were left to handle. Only him.

“Want me to fill you up?” he asked, voice hoarse, “mark you as mine?” Your frantic nods were all he needed. His gaze was glued to yours, and you kept your eyes unblinking, unwilling to miss even one second of his orgasm. And it was worth it. His hair matted to his forehead, a deep focused crease between his brows, his hands in an unwavering grip around your hips, he stopped just barely, and you felt him shoot his load. He began thrusting again moments after, riding out his orgasm. If he made any noise, you were unaware, you hardly heard a thing over your own ringing ears.

The mixture of his cum and yours oozed out of you the moment he pulled out, and you were ready to feel ashamed about it, but Bucky gathered your legs straight up in the air with one hand, leaning down to lick up every trace of the mess you had made. It was, while filthy beyond belief, also insanely hot.

You accidentally let out a surprised whine. Bucky responded with an almost playful slap to your thigh while keeping his mouth on your pussy. The shock and your remaining sensitivity made you jump from the impact, shutting you up in the process.

“Thought so,” Bucky mumbled against your skin. Once he was done cleaning up as much as he could, which only were a few more seconds, he gently placed your feet on the mat. Careful not to touch you, he moved to lie beside you, one arm propping up his head, the other pulling out the soaked shirt.

You felt his cool metal fingers brush away small strands of hair, and watched him curiously.

“How are you doing?” he asked, voice still slightly hoarse but having lost that mean tilt.

“Good,” you whispered, “you?”

Bucky nodded. “Same.” He paused. “Was that too much?”

You nodded instantly without really thinking it through, but when Bucky took another moment to answer, you realized it was the truth.

“I know you weren’t expecting it.”

“It’s okay,” you said, “I really liked what you did.”

At that, he offered you a toothy grin. “Yeah? Maybe we should repeat it sometime.”

Before you could move to agree, you heard Tony’s voice over the speakers. “Look, I’m glad you guys finally bumped uglies,” he said, voice obviously annoyed, “but I’d appreciate it if the entire compound wouldn’t be part of it next time, yeah? Barnes, we talked about this. The gym is a public space and not your personal fuck room.” There was a click in the speakers which told you that Tony was done, but you were too occupied with staring at Bucky in shock.

“What? I told you to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

Grinning his cocky grin, Bucky rolled back on top of you. “I’ll show you–“ But he wouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Guys! Get a fucking room!”

::::::::::

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