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morallyinept · 7 months

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The Pit - An Ezra One Shot

^ Sound on 🔊

Summary: Ezra and you stumble into an ominous pit on a prospecting mission for coveted azure diamonds on the Narillan moon, and find more than you bargain for.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 11.9k 👀 'Issa long one!

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

Explicit - DARK-ISH themes/kinks/smut. Possibly an attempt at macabre/gore type horror? Ezra being a roguish douche (but that’s why we love ‘im). Tentacles. Lots of tentacles. Sex/Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Oral/insertion/pregnancy/birthing some weird stuff/alien life forms/interspecies intercourse/some mild dubcon/anal/slight hints of cannibalism, because at this point, why not? 🥴 And some other fucked up shit that my brain rot conjured up. Did I mention the abundance of tentacles?

Sci-Fi/Horror-esque. There’s some plot in there somewhere, I swear to Kevva.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Had this idea slithering around the ol’ noggin. Figured Ezra would be down because he’s fancy like that.

I am well aware that this won't be for everyone. If it's not for you, that's absolutely fine. Just quietly slip out. No need to make a fuss.

I'll have more Ezra that's coming soon, in different varieties/genres.

I'm pretty happy with the way Ezra talks in a manner befitting for him in this. I took my own advice. But I'll let you guys be the judge of that. Let me know if I captured him.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

“... Blasted, shit-eating things, channel rats. Did I regale you with the time my crew and I were subject to an unfettered infestation?”

Ezra prattles on ahead of you, further up the caverns, the light from his helmet casting an eerie glow about the dark boulder formations.

As far out as he is ahead of you, stepping oafishly over a knuckle of rocks, his voice is sound and droning inside your ear and there is no way to drown him out. Unless you garrotte him, of course.

Now, there’s a thought.

“Yes,” you sigh wearily. “I’ve heard all about the fucking channel rats.” Clubbing him to death with a rock sure sounded like a mighty fine idea about now.

You’re blinded by a small, white light flickering into the back of your retinas when he stops and turns to look back at you.

“Irritation becomes you, Birdie.” Ezra observes with a breathy gruff. It sounds like the crash of the ocean on Lau inside your ear. "Still captivating though."

You're beyond irritated having had the misfortune of listening to him rabble non-stop on this Kevva forsaken journey into the back end of the universe’s rectum it feels like. One that you’re beginning to regret inherently.

“We’re lost, Ezra. We’ve been lost for hours now. I thought you said you knew-”

“-Know these caves like the back of my right paw, yes. That is what I confirmed.” He offers a crooked smile as he waves his stump at you as you catch up to him. "Well, that's not at all disconcerting now is it?" He teases as the place where his right hand should be is filled with an obvious emptiness.

He frowns when you fail to laugh. “I may have offered you a partial truth. But I'm fairly certain I can navigate us to the root of our coveted gain unscathed.” He adds.

“Fairly?”

“It’s a diminutive guarantee.” Ezra affirms with a serious face. “Although, if I’m to be completely notwithstanding, Narilla is a place I’ve not set foot on before myself. But I've conversed greatly with those who have.”

“Fucking great.” You gripe as you reach him.

Your hair sticks to your face with sweat inside your helmet and it irks you that you can’t simply wipe it away as it catches on your lip tiresomely.

Traipsing around this dank, humid cave system on the forgotten moon of Narilla, with the wily and grossly unpredictable prospector as your guide, is not exactly the mission you'd envisioned when he’d lured you in over strong stout on Puggart Bench of such a daunting, yet rewarding charge.

You’d sat bemused, a few tables away with your scuff booted feet up eavesdropping, as you nursed your own beer, at vicarious tales of skulduggery and betrayal - his own included.

His aquiline face was well known around these putrid parts. As much as you’d love to avoid a feculent swamp like this on The Pug, populated with unsavoury characters in their swarms, it was a necessary evil to hear of good places to prospect now they’d closed up the Bakhroma route for good.

Kevva knows that prospectors could pilfer and loot better than anyone in The Fringe, and your own talents attested to this. Ezra too, had garnered himself an erudite reputation, even if marred in deceit, and a small fortune to retire from past ills that haunted the creases around his sullen eyes.

But yet he was still greedy for more as he bewitched you with promises of riches that would weigh down your pockets despite the preposterousness of it all. Such is the nature of a prospector; their greed knows no bounds. Cannot be satiated. And he could certainly talk the alluring talk, that was for sure.

Something more had drawn you in though; something about his Southern loquacious snap in which he weaved the threads of the fable about his eventful escape from the green moon of Bahkroma; an arm lost to it as well as some semblance of sanity it appeared.

He spoke through glassy, dark eyes, wide with tenacity, sluiced with the oncoming inertia from the hops and grains, and his story pulled a crowd of fellow miners and prospectors keen to hear the anecdotes pouring from his foam drenched moustache, as ludicrous as they were.

Most dismissed it as the drunken ramblings of a mad man quacking into his drink; scarred by his time on the haunting moon and her secrets, and perhaps it did drive him crazy to some extent.

However, Ezra rambled on animatedly about plentiful azure diamonds to anyone that would listen that were hidden in the caves under the frozen surface of Narilla. His story was backed up by those who had heard their own quips. Someone who knew someone who had garnered the moon's wealth for themselves, it was all the same spiel.

Like the twinkle in his eye, you simply couldn’t resist the temptation of their siren call and offered yourself up to accompany him on the collection of such rare, precious gems - Kevva knows the fortune was needed on your part - when a scant few turned away unconvinced. Gems that would fetch much more than Aurelac on the black market anyhow.

Whilst some of the gnarly men expressed their keen interest, Ezra denied them, setting his deep eyes on you.

I require a right-hand… woman, Ezra had stated, looking you up and down with something else inside of his vortex gaze as he supped at the foam from his weighty glass.

He’d shooed away the other potential partners in favour of you and your shapely form that he drank in as much as the beer.

You’d discussed with him the terms and your share of the haul, insisted on absolutely no impropriety, (for which you fell short on later that evening) and here you both were now, docked and stationed on the frozen moon and wandering around the intestines of the caves listening to him harp on about everything and nothing, and all that was gassy air in between.

Your teeth ache from all the grinding.

“Can you attach a slurry? I'm irrevocably parched, pet.” Ezra asks you, panting a little. There's condensation frosting around the rim of his helmet and sweat beads glistening on his forehead.

"I'm not your pet."

"Merely a term of endearment. An otherwise befitting compliment may be too fruitful to assume your acceptance into anything more than acquaintance." He shrugs.

"You assume much." Sighing, you busy yourself with the idle task as you attach the pack to the back of his cargo belt and cap it into the feeding tube for him.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” You query, checking your chronometer and scanning the vast dark abyss that presents itself to you.

The green icons and symbols are blurring faintly through the invisible static, fading like emerald apparitions.

Back on the lander, the static interfered with everything as soon as you entered the atmosphere, and it only unnerved you that, if things should go awry, you would be out here by yourselves.

“Shouldn’t be much further ahead, I’d wager.” Ezra breathes around his straw inside his helmet. He licks his lips as he watches your scornful look tossed back at him. He simply offers you a knowing smirk.

“Lead the way,” you instruct with a knitted brow.

You follow him further into the breach of the dark; the strobes from your mutual head lamps making eerie patterns on the rock walls that claw and silently growl as they come to life like shadow puppets.

A while later Ezra stops dead in his tracks, raising his singular left hand. You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped; too occupied with convincing yourself that you weren’t seeing ominous things slithering around in the shadows.

You walk right into the back of him; your helmet bonking against the back of his. You utter some annoyed profanity that fuzzes into his ear piece.

“Kevva! What's that smell?” You question, wrinkling your nose as it seeps through your respirator. It smells like tar, coating the back of your throat in its thickness like amber tobacco as you inhale.

Ezra studies the wall beside him carefully, noticing the ominous sheen and runs his gloved hand through the goop that coats it.

“The stench emanates from this peculiar secretion.” He pries apart his velvet fingers and the sticky substance is stringy between the fibres. He lances you a look with keening eyes.

Your mind is flooded with skewbald images of your cunt slick beading over his lips, making them shine up at you as your thighs cushion either side of his head. Your groans, his lavacious grunts, batter around the back of your skull and leave broken contusions.

The shiny strings snapping on his gloves serve as a harsh reminder, which you're certain he's recalling in all it's sordid vividity too. Your pussy certainly is as it clenches involuntarily.

“Gross.” You declare as he tries to stifle a wolfish grin at your reaction.

“We push on, Birdie.” Ezra announces, wiping the slime down on the thigh of his olive flight suit.

“Stop calling me that.” You mutter, following behind.

“Well, you won’t tell me your name so I have to call you something.”

“No names.” You remind him.

“I recounted mine freely.”

“No names.” You confirm.

"Kevva's sake, you are stubborn as you are loathsome, woman." He mutters.

“That’s not what you said the other night." You smirk.

"I divulged a lot of soundbites that eve." Ezra can still hear the sounds you made around him, not put off by his apparent incapacitation. “As did you. But yet a mere name seems implausible.”

"Do you ever shut up?"

Ezra thought for a moment then smirked brazenly. "Only when a succulent quim takes throne on my face."

You roll your eyes. "Look, we get the diamonds, we leave and I don’t have to suffer your intolerable, repetitive anecdotes ever again. My name is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things." You growl, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

You can hear him chuckling away in your ear piece with a wheezy rasp. “Desperate to be rid of me already? I might flirt with the offended.”

“Pfft. You’ll get over it.” You mirth.

Although a shifty flush creeps insidiously into your already overheated cheeks, as uninvited images of him grunting as you sat on his hawkish face invade your mind like knives at a target board.

He could certainly put that mouth to good use. The thoughts your mind still conjures makes the inside of your helmet stifling.

The smell gets stronger as you meander closer to wherever the heck it is that Ezra is leading you into. A wider cavern opens itself up and you climb upon its slope exercising caution at his instruction to follow.

“One slip and the void will take you,” he warns with a simper rolling around his dry lips.

“Don’t tempt me,” you reply sardonically. You both step slowly and carefully along the ledge as the vertigo sways you towards its jaws. Steadying yourself, you push on behind him.

The tar-like smell intensifies when Ezra announces you’ve both arrived. Although you're hardly impressed - it's just another cavern like the million you’ve already hiked through to get here. You watch as he unclips his helmet spokes and the hiss of his respirator sounds snakelike inside your ear.

“Can we breathe down here?” You question warily at his flippancy.

“Assist me, would you?” He asks as he inhales through a toothy grin, nodding.

Once your own helmet is off, the subtle breeze of clean oxygen hits your face, cooling it. It's incredibly warm down here, considering the moon is in the midst of a deep freeze on the surface.

You watch as Ezra steps forward to another ledge and looks down. “There,” he points.

You step forward yourself and shine a light and are aghast at what you see.

A writhing mass of black, wet tentacles, twisting and undulating in an eerie dance. The glistening surface of each tentacle reflecting an otherworldly sheen, while they move with an unsettling fluidity.

Unfathomable thrumming spirals are spilling out around the pit below the ledge, moving in a coordinated, yet unpredictable manner, in various girths and lengths. Slick as they writhe against one another, pulsing like a singular heartbeat.

“What is that?” You mouth incredulously.

Upon closer inspection, faint iridescent patterns shimmer along the length of the tentacles, creating an illusion of ethereal beauty amidst the stark darkness, like they almost glow in places. The patterns shift and change as the tentacles move.

As the mass undulates gently, it seems to emit a low hum, barely audible, but one that can be felt deep within your chest, resonating with a haunting melody. It's a sound that stirs emotions buried in your subconscious, eliciting a mix of awe and wonder, tinged with an underlying sense of unease as you feel prickles shoot down your spine.

“Our entrance. Hmm. Bigger than I was infromed. No bother. We'll go through it.” Ezra pulls down the zipper of his flight suit and begins shaking it off of his only arm clumsily.

“Wait, what? Through it? What the fuck is it?!” You query, wide-eyed.

The enigmatic display of black, wet tentacles in this mysterious mass is a surreal and haunting sight, one that leaves you captivated by its beauty, while your rational mind reminds you of the depths of the unknown that lie within.

All you can envision is teeth. Sharp, piercing teeth.

“Take your suit off, pet.” He instructs calmly.

“Ezra.” You shake your head concerned.

He rolls his suit over his stump and down to his thermals. “It protects the diamonds. We need to go through it. We’ll pass right through, out to the bottom when they see we're not a threat to them. No harm done.”

“Are you fucking insane?”

“That's yet to be determined officially.” Ezra responds nonchalantly. “Although, I’ve been reassured that this is-”

“Wait, you’re basing this off of hearsay? How do you know that thing won’t fucking eat us?” You're sweating again.

Ezra rolls his suit down to his ankles and begins pulling at the lace of his worn boot. “I don’t.” He simply retorts.

“No.” You shake your head adamantly. “You can go and die if you want. I’ll wait here.” You’d encountered many odd alien-like entities in your time prospecting, but this? This is something else entirely.

You peer carefully over the ledge, seemingly unable to look away at the mass of tentacles that are free of suckers. They're just smooth and slick in their perfection. Lost in the horrific beauty and mystique of the scene, you feel a magnetic pull, as if the mass of tentacles beckons you to join its dance.

A part of you yearns to step closer, to unravel the secrets it holds, and yet another part hesitates, fearing the unknown consequences of such a connection. In the midst of this ghastly display, a heavy feeling of dread envelops you, like an invisible hand tightening around your heart that crushes.

“Nu-uh, Birdie." Ezra warns, darkly. "We go together as agreed upon in our oath. You need to play your part and help me to retrieve the diamonds. Can’t embark on this without you, given my infernal impediment.” Ezra turns to look at you with those muddy eyes, and it's beguiling as it is dangerous.

You stare down at the pit unmoving.

"No harm will come to you under my watch." He reassures, but it fails.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

He simply offers you a small smile. "Can but wait, Birdie. Let's get a leg on."

“I must be fucking insane…” You mutter, shaking your head. Sighing, you take off your own suit and strip down to your undergarments.

“Good girl,” you hear him say.

You catch Ezra glancing at your bare legs as you're dressed in nothing short of flimsy shorts and a thin camisole that barely covers your modesty under your thermals.

His own undergarments are a frayed t-shirt and some fusty long johns that sit awkwardly under the small paunch of his soft belly.

But he seems to pull them off as your own eyes sway towards the memory of his body on the fraying futon as it writhed and shuddered whilst you sucked down the swell of his cock, back in his dingy bunk apartment nestled in the Noki District on The Pug.

For a man of his advancing years, you think him to be attractive in a roguish kind of way; a scummy diamond in the rough. Scummy enough to have let him eat you out, anyway.

Breathing calmly - or at least trying to - you sit beside him on the edge of the pit staring down at the glistening appendages that swam in a hypnotic pulse against one another.

The sounds of their wet slick can be heard as they slide and pass over one another in heaving waves; a wet shine evident on their alien corium that glimmers at you.

You’re not sure why you're doing it, but you reach forward instinctively and feel the skin of one as you run your palm over it gently, awed by the sensation that leaves prickles flooding down your spinal cord.

The electricity creeps up each nodule and into the bottom of your neck. It feels comforting, soothing as the previous hesitation you felt is washed away in a calming opacity that soon melts your eyelids shut.

The tentacle arches up into your palm, bumping it benignly as its secretions coat your skin with a cooling, thin substance that feels miry as it greets you.

As you attempt to retreat, the allure of the scene grips you, holding you in a trance-like state, unable to tear your eyes away from the eldritch horror that unfolds before you. It's as if the entity, sensing your fear, seeks to draw you deeper into its realm, to become a part of its ancient enigma. To whisper it's secrets in your ear.

The luminescence now reveals disturbing images etched into the tentacles' surface - visions of cosmic terrors, nightmarish landscapes, and grotesque creatures. Each tentacle seems to bear the collective knowledge of the horrors of the universe, driving you to the edges of precarious sanity.

A cacophony of unnerving sounds emanates from the mass - the raspy whispers, unnerving wails, and an ominous heartbeat that seems to reverberate through your own veins. The dread within you intensifies, and an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia engulfs you as it reaches its zenith; as if the darkness itself is closing in on you, and it has snapping jaws.

“Birdie,” you can hear Ezra bleed into your ominous tranquillity, but he sounds so far away. Like his voice is at the bottom of a metal wire, sounding tinny and ruptured.

The sudden panic in his voice shakes your foundations leaving you unsteady. But it's not him making you sway as you open your eyes to see yourself falling, face first.

You’re tethered by the tentacles wrapping around your ankles and wrists and pulling you forward into the mass of them.

“Ezra!” You gasp trying to repel them as they reach for you, but the combined strength of the slithering organs is undeniable.

You're both immobilised as you're dragged down into the pit. Ezra disappears first; the whites of his wide eyes are the last thing you see before you're blinded by the black.

The stickiness coats your face, your eyelids. It slicks through your hair; a clear, thin mucus that smells like musky, rich leather and allows you to move freely through the tentacles as you descend further.

"Birdie!" You hear Ezra call out to you and you call back frantically. "Just relax, it will pass you right through."

"Relax?!" You splutter when you feel the prevalent tightening around your waist. It's too tight as it starts to bind and crush against your pelvis.

"Trust me!" He calls again. Oh, if it were that simple, you snarl to yourself.

You try to calm yourself, relax as he so eloquently puts it. But it’s hard; the panic seeds and flowers in you and the coil only tightens under your rib cage in response. It knows your fear.

As it embraces you, tentacles wrapping around every limb and numbing them out, you feel the weightlessness of your body as it travels to the back of your cranium and ignites. You can't see anything, just the never ending void of black that hurts your eyes to try and strain them to reach beyond it.

A sense of foreboding lingers, as if a malevolent entity from the mass of tentacles watches from the shadows; its sinister presence ever-present in the periphery of your senses.

As you sink through the darkness, the very air seems heavy with an oppressive weight, and the pulsing surroundings of the tentacles appear distorted, as if the boundaries between reality and the unknown have blurred.

Each sound in the darkness makes you jump, fearing that some other force might be lurking too close.

A small glimmer fizzes somewhere in the distance, blink and you’d miss it. Purple, maybe blue flashes that spark through a plasma network of neuron pathways that fire and snap ahead. A brain that grows in size and expands. A dying star implodes and blinds you for a moment.

You gasp out in awe and are then fully weightless; floating in the violet nebula that’s haunting in its brilliance, its swirling tendrils stretching across the cosmic canvas like an ethereal tapestry.

As you gaze at the purple nebula, a sense of calm washes over you, momentarily easing the fear and tension that had consumed your senses previously.

The swirling clouds of gas and dust seem to dance with grace, performing an elegant ballet that holds you in rapt attention. You forget everything, you forget it all.

You can't feel your limbs, you can't feel the weight of your bones or the blood in your organs. You can't smell or taste. You're deafened by bubonic silence save for the heavy whooshes of your own breath inside your ear canal.

And then the nebula shrinks, collapsing upon itself into two tiny balls of light that morph and shape into eyeballs with irises the colour of those tasteless Bitz Bars you’d endured on lengthy missions.

The eyes stare at you, they see into you; unblinking and you can feel them rifle around inside the deepest trenches of your mind, picking and rummaging with spidery fingers. And you can only let them as they see all of your sordid secrets and lay them out like sharp medical instruments.

Then thin, wiry nerves root and track from behind them; a skull forms around the eyeballs. Muscles and viscera wrap and coil around a skeleton as the skin grows over it like fungi and tans in colour.

Ezra is before you; naked and plump in his lower belly fat and a thick, flaccid cock hangs between his legs. He’s staring back and floating like you are in this chaotically still space. His stump bears no scars, just perfectly smooth, taut skin around the missing bone like marble.

You can only watch as his cock stiffens and begins to drip mercury. You’re not sure where it comes from, maybe something in the stratosphere, maybe something in your core, but the overwhelming feeling of desire bubbles and courses through your veins making them burn under your skin.

You feel the tentacles again, pulsing and vibrating around you.

There is no other sensation except the feeling of his only arm pulling you towards him and then his lips are crushing against your own, smothering.

You're not repulsed as you taste him; his invading tongue filling your mouth and sliding down your throat that opens willingly for him.

You let him in, you want him to be inside you like this, even though somewhere inside of you, your voice is shrieking and howling at you to resist the ratty bastard. It’s a need that requires satiation.

Any resistance is smothered by the heat between your legs; the wetness that leaks from your swollen cunt lips and mashing into the meat of your thighs as you squeeze them together deliciously to equally appease and chase that desire.

You feel his ever-growing tongue reaching into the back of your oesophagus and expanding; sliding deep down into your guts as you choke and splutter around it as it restricts your airway.

Breathing through your nose is impossible as it fills with the sticky mucus that attaches to the fine cilia suffocating you further.

You try to resist now, to pull away but your limbs still won't work. Your fingers won’t cooperate. You can't feel them. All you can feel is Ezra invading your body through your mouth and licking out every crevice of it with his elongated tongue.

You can feel the cramping in your stomach as he prods around down in there, pushing against your muscles and fat; crushing your offals and lapping at your stomach acids.

You want to scream so badly, but all that comes out around his tongue is moans of abject satisfaction. Your own voice, your own sounds are so alien to your ears. You're enjoying this and you want more, so much more from him.

You feel your mouth fill from your gullet upwards; something warm rising up from the back of your throat from around his tongue as it floods you. Its viscosity bubbles and pools out the side of your lips and down your chin.

Ezra pulls back and you see it; his tongue now black and shiny and no longer pink and fleshy - or human. The flippering tentacle disappears back into his smiling mouth as you gasp for air.

You cough up a thick, white substance that projectiles from you, choking you as you heave it out down your chest.

Somewhere, you know this taste; familiar from your own experiences of swallowing unworthy men’s loads on your knees as they ejaculated into your eager mouth on lonely nights around The Pug.

Somewhere through the heady confusion, you know this is wrong on so many levels as you belch and splutter through bringing up the seminal pearl flow in droves.

A subtle yet unsettling change occurs. The glistening black, wet tentacles from the malevolent mass re-emerge in the scene, twisting and snaking their way into the cosmic display as you splutter.

At first, the juxtaposition of the tentacles against the cosmic backdrop seems incongruous, like an intrusion of darkness into the splendour of the nebula.

However, as you watch, you begin to sense a strange harmony between the two that bleeds into your skin.

The tentacles are back around your body, cinching and curling around your waist, clamping around your wrists. You feel the alluring tickle of something travelling up your thigh and your eyes widen.

“Ezra… It’s-it’s-” you stutter as you feel it snake up your inner thigh and under the hem of your shorts.

“Let us in, Birdie. It’ll feel so good.” Ezra drenches the promise inside your ear, licking and sucking the shell of it. His fingers skim your clit, furrowing inside your shorts and opening your lips for the tentacle to slip fully inside, filling you up. “We’ll make you feel so good.”

You cry out as it slides in, slippery and thick. It stretches you wide, a slight burn from the jarring friction that soon settles into undulating pleasure.

It shouldn’t feel like this, it shouldn’t feel so… good.

You feel a mix of emotions - fascination, fear, and an inexplicable sense of reverence - as you feel it penetrate you deeply. The tentacles, once harbingers of horror, now evoke a different kind of awe.

“Fuck, it feels so good...” You chime falling backwards into the universe.

“Mmm, there you go,” Ezra smiles and you feel his fingers slipping quicker over your engorged clit making you flinch and breathe out dust each time he flicks it. “Let us fuck you, little bird. We’re one now.”

You can hear Ezra; the haunting groans and gasps fill your ears like lead. It’s everywhere around you, echoing and you can’t escape the sounds of his pleasure on loop as you’re fucked by the rogue tentacle stretching you out the further it whelves inside of you.

You can see yourself, devoured by the coils slipping all over your skin; watching yourself get dicked by this entity that knows what you want, knows how to pleasure you like no man could.

Your pussy welcomes the deep thrusts it gives you and you writhe and moan, losing your eyesight. The features on your face dissolve away leaving you a faceless putty for them to remould and sculpt, and you twist and bend to their will.

You’re lost to it; succumbed fully by an invading desire and heat, and the sounds of Ezra’s grunting hammering inside your ears as it rocks through the nebula; a big bang of grunts and heady snarls that rip through the very seam of existence.

But when you finally open your eyes as they grow back into your sockets, he’s no longer there.

All you can see is the nebula again. All you can feel is the fullness between your thighs; the never-ending release it offers as it pumps you full of its seed. The nebula winks back at you and pulses around the edges.

You feel the bunching behind your stomach walls, the fluttering of your pussy spasming and squeezing as you’re pulled apart and smashed back together again, at one with the cosmos.

You cry out; you can see your voice as it shatters into metallic fragments and rains chrome glitter all over you that coats and nicks your throat.

Your gasps birth new stars from your mouth as they find their place in the dust and gases that swirl around your body, completely obliterating it.

And when it’s come and gone, the waves settling as you fall still from the exhausting aftermath, there’s nothing once more; just the never-ending expanse of black.

You breathe out through soaked trembles, and just as he advised, the grip falters and you descend again slowly through the pulsating coils that slide sticky against your face and gums.

You drop and land clumsily onto something solid; the hard, real ground. Your tailbone hits it first and you wince.

Your fingers shakily register the feel of something you recognise and yet it doesn’t seem entirely real as you scrape your brittle nails into the rock beneath your face to be sure.

But your cunt is still contracting; squeezing around a vacant space where you were sure you were penetrated and filled by something thick and binding, and oh so fucking good.

Something that felt indescribable and you mourn its loss irrevocably.

You eye him carefully as he looks back at you with a singular outstretched palm laced with blisters and callouses lanced towards your face.

Ezra helps you up onto jellified legs and above you the tentacles writhe a lowly metre or so above your heads in a hypnotic dance that seems to defy and mock gravity.

Ezra reaches up, his only hand brushing against the swell of the membranes that roll and curl tightly around one another.

"Curious…" He mumbles as the slick glides effortlessly through his calloused fingers; a cosmic ballet of twisting and pulsing.

“What is it?” You ask, dumbfounded and awed.

Your voice doesn't register as your own. You feel like you’ve been swamped in a heavy sleep, plagued by dreams of untold, lucid delights that you can still feel throbbing on your clit.

You’re unsure if it really happened or not and try to shake the delusion, yet you feel yourself pining for it.

You peer at Ezra carefully, looking for any sign that he endured a similar experience, and yet his face is as unreadable in its mischievousness and stoniness as usual.

Your skin feels wet and sticky, your mouth remembers the taste, and his body mirrors your own, coated in the shiny lacquer from passing through the tar coils. His hair is slicked back and darker, almost black, save for the white patch that is stark in its platinum yellow glow; a tiny sun being swallowed in a sea of putrid oily tufts.

The undergarments cling to his skin, saturated and binding and making no attempt to hide the swell of his cock inside of them.

As he glances at you with an astonished smirk, you feel something pull tight in your abdomen; a distant hunger gnawing at the edges of rationality and the sense that you’re unable to get a firm grip on reality anymore.

“A cephalopod of some origin, or many. I've heard tales of Krakens before, but not like this.” Ezra admires bewitchingly as he strokes above him. “It feels…” He closes his eyes and you watch him rise on his tiptoes with a small smile blooming over his mouth. “Sentient.” He concludes through a nasally breath lost inside his thick drawl.

He drops his hand slowly as a lone tentacle feeds down from the others in front of him. You watch rooted as it rubs itself across his broad chest and slithers around him. It runs between his thighs and he moans as it brushes against his cock.

"Uh, this one seems incredibly obliging," Ezra exclaims as he glances at you with astonished mirth bleeding into his ratchet peepers.

You watch it disappear down inside the back of his long johns.

He groans out, his body jars forward but he doesn’t fall; the tentacles have him secured by his arm and back as he becomes weightless in front of you.

“Ezra,” you start forward to assist him, but are stopped when he hisses out, baring his teeth.

He loses his eyes as they roll back into his skull.

“Fuh-uck,” he whines loosely as though his teeth are no longer in his mouth, and you realise you’ve heard this sound before; the sounds of pleasure bursting through the cavity of his chest into your ears.

The same noises he made under you on The Pug with mouthfuls of your seeping cunt.

The tentacle penetrates him and you're drawn into the vortex of his mouth pulling your eyes from their trenches to drink their jelly. You can only watch, body pulsing, skin fraying, as it fucks him right in front of you.

"Kevva, that's deep," he groans, with a blissed out smile.

Then you feel it; it's warm as it glides over your navel and across your skin leaving a moist, sluggish trail. The tentacles bring you together, cocooning you both as Ezra pulls you towards his chest.

And you're not resisting again, instead letting him welcome you into his one-armed embrace.

His body feels good against yours, too good. Like the slats in your rib cages were meant to interlock.

It seems as if he can hear your thoughts and you watch as he opens his chest from the centre; fingers ripping through flesh as he pries open his bony cage and welcomes you into the balloons of his lungs.

Your nose wanders and inhales through his papery bronchioles; they dust into your face like fluffy dandelion seeds and float into the ether.

"Need you inside of me," you groan to him as if in a trance as his sticky heart jostles against your lips as it beats.

You lick across it, sucking on a throbbing ventricle delicately as his blood coays your teeth, and he whines out louder as he ejaculates into his long johns.

“I already am,” Ezra grunts, eyes rolling to the back of his skull again like loose marbles as the crest of his hips buck forward.

You pull back to see him whole once more and glance at the huge, black shape filling you up, fucking into you.

His own cock is hard and weeping pearly globules of come as it rubs against the tentacle with fantastic friction. Your fingers peel him apart; stripping him down to the hard, muscled core of his dick, and he writhes and groans under your touch as you obliterate him.

You look back at his face and he’s swallowing down a thick tentacle inside of his plush mouth before yours is invaded again by the wet velvet.

He fills your holes, all of them. You can feel him stretch out your pussy, sliding in and out with his thick appendage that makes you buck uncontrollably. He feels so plentiful and thick. He slips into the tight crevice of your ass, filling and stretching you wholly and he's inside your mouth; feeling him graze at the back of your throat as he thrusts and chokes you.

He's everywhere, and yet Ezra pulls you close into his scarred chest again whilst he himself is filled in every orifice he possesses and it's still not enough.

He wants to climb inside your skin. You know it, because it's exactly what you want. It’s what you crave. To rest in the sponge of his brain.

You can hear him insipidly rambles to you all the ways in which he wants to devour you for eternity.

His whines set your skin alight; the oil burning you up as it sears and chokes you. That tar-like smell wafting around you both as it smokes you out and leaves you breathless.

“I can see it,” he mutters, but it doesn't come from his mouth, no that’s full of the pulsing thick membrane that fucks him like they fuck you.

Instead, you can see his voice, moving across the nebula as he sings on music scales, lighting up the treble clefs with supernovas.

“Can you see it, Birdie?” He asks you, each red giant twinkling with his din and tone before it dies, and you can. In their dance, the tentacles reveal a deeper truth - that even the most terrifying entities can be transformed by the beauty and wonder of the cosmos.

They are a reminder that in the vastness of the universe, there is a balance between darkness and light, chaos and order, horror and beauty and you understand that now as you approach another climax.

“It’s so fucking beautiful.” You gasp, tears filling your eyes.

You arch your back; your spine cracks through each vertebrae as they pulverise into dust and you collapse in on yourself, boneless and spent once more.

You can feel it and it feels exhilarating to die and be reborn over and over.

You gush around the tentacle and onto Ezra’s soft stomach swell as you come unrestrained, and for what feels like for infinity.

You’ve never fully understood the meaning of the word euphoria until now.

Soon Ezra lets go of you; his own body arching grotesquely and crushing inwardly. His mouth opens as the tentacle ejects, spewing out thick, creamy liquid in a silent scream as he rolls back into the mass of pulsing coils to be devoured all over again.

He twists and turns and you see his left hand come down his shoulder, tugging at the skin below his blade that houses his clipped stump.

Then another hand, and another; more human hands that are his own with the thumb on the left side and all with the tiny bullseye tattoo inked and faded on the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger.

His various left hands are pulling the skin open so you can see his spine through the tears. Small, onyx tendrils move under the bones and he bleeds out that thick, seminal fluid between his contracting muscles.

Ezra removes his skin like removing a sweater and you scream into the void.

Birdie.

You hear him through the sludgy goop inside your ears; a faint rumble of your body as you are gently shaken awake by thick fingers pulling you out of inertia.

You're on the ground again and the pit of writhing tentacles is still a dark swarm threatening to rain upon your heads. You stare at it, watching it pulse and simper. Trying to understand its secrets, its desires.

Trying to detest it with every fibre of your being but not quite managing to.

There's a chasm where that feeling should be.

Ezra's worrisome face pulls your senses towards him and you clutch onto his arm, reassuring yourself that he's real. Real muscle and bone.

You flinch when you think you see something move under his skin, but it’s just his vein as he tenses.

"What did you see?" He asks you darkly. His eyes are as black as the darkest corners of the universe.

"See?" You ponder it dumbly for a moment as it all floods back to you.

“You were screaming.” He explains.

"I... I'm not sure." You mumble.

"I've deduced that this creature can telepathically link itself to our minds in a mere quest of bewitchment. It can show us our wildest, unarmed desires, or toss us into a gully of the most sordid nightmares." His eyes have shifted into something that you’ve never seen on his face since meeting him - fear.

"What did you see?” You prompt him instead, sitting up. Your head feels like it’s been split into two and neither of your brains can comprehend this scenario fully.

His eyes drop to you and he helps you to your feet clamping his singular hand around your elbow as he yanks.

"Felt so real," he utters through a clenched mouth. Or surreal. You're not quite sure what he says as your face draws up to his.

He glances at you and touches your cheek, cupping it gently. You feel the thick pad of his thumb pull on your bottom lip as he admires the wet, pink flesh of your gums with some irreverent hunger.

"So real." He repeats with darker, hooded eyes.

"Ezra," you steer, peeling his fingers delicately from your skin, despite them soldering into your flesh, and he seems to snap out of it.

He recoils back as though he has been stung. "We need to find a way to leverage our exit." He announces flatly.

"What about the diamonds?" You rub at your arms and they don’t feel like they are attached to you anymore. Neither do your legs and it takes you a moment to realise you are standing freely on them.

"They don't appear to be harbouring any gems down here. I fear we may have been taken in by a ruse." He scowls bitterly.

"You mean you were." You mutter. “I just stupidly came along.”

Ezra sighs loudly and sharply and steps forward craning his head up to the tentacles. He mutters something that you don’t quite catch.

"You're expecting them to give us a ride?" You scoff at him.

"Do you have a more eloquent stratagem? I'm all ears."

"Yes. I'm not going in there again." You say with an inherent coldness prickling at your skin. But yet it’s still hot and dense between your legs.

"Tell me woman, what's rattled you with the visions they gave you?"

"It doesn't matter," you say, turning away from him.

Although you’re not entirely sure if they were just visions. You search along the sharp rocky walls and follow them round with your eyes and there is no obvious sign for escape.

The only way out is back up through them. If they will allow you to leave, that is. The thought makes you cold.

“Birdie, I…” Ezra starts and pauses for a moment. “I know this outcome isn’t what we forecast when this expedition matriculated between us.”

“You think?”

“But I must riposte, that we need to find a way out and the only one presented to us is from whence we came. So if you would find it in you to trust me, then I believe I can lead us out of here fully intact.”

“Trust you, you say?” You snort flippantly.

“Yes. A big ask, I am well aware of its weight.” He scowls at you this time.

“We did things.” You breathe. "You and I, we... copulated."

The words roll off your tongue and you want to shove them back into your mouth and suck the fat from them, but he’s already heard them and is mentally clipping them apart in his bank of memories to keep the best of them - the most sordid.

“I remember vividly our foreplay on The Pug, but you insisted on no penetration and I kept my word. I may not be a gentleman, but I'm no cavalier scoundrel."

"Yes, I know-"

"-Was a satisfaction garnered for us both as I recall. No-one has ever... ” His head snaps towards you with intrigue. "Are you keen to indulge the liasion?"

“No. I mean... Here. That’s what I saw. We didn't just play this time. Us. It’s what I-”

“Felt.” Ezra finishes for you and you nod as you realise that’s what he felt too. His cock, still tenting against his undergarments, reassures you of that.

“And then we were apart. Like, pulled apart from the insides. I watched you remove your skin. Was it real or did we dream it or…? Kevva, I have no idea what is fucking real or not right now.” You mutter, running your hand through your damp, disgusting hair.

“Did you hit your peaks of satisfaction?” Ezra asks.

"What?"

"Did you come, pet?"

Your cheeks feel hot and you fold your arms sighing. “Yes.” Your stomach pulls tight and it makes you grit your teeth.

“As did I.” He admits freely. "Felt like I couldn't stop. It was kinda nice. Tingly."

He closes his eyes and you watch as his free hand drifts down his sternum and palms his cock over the wet fabric with a soft squeeze, clearly not deterred by your presence.

“It wasn’t you. I mean you weren’t inside me, but you were all the same. It’s confusing. What does it want?” You ask looking up at the swell that seems to hum again. Your palm is running gentle circles against your gut that feels hot.

“I don’t believe it wants anything insidious. It just feels and thrives like we do. It has cravings.” Ezra explains, wandering closer under the centre of it.

You shudder and ponder the creation of such an organism, that you summarise mentally and agree, is not too dissimilar from yourself or Ezra. It exists in the most basic of forms, to feed, to fornicate, to-

You feel a sharp twinge in your lower belly and groan.

“You creamy?” Ezra asks.

“Yeah just… Aaargh!” You hiss and double over clutching your stomach. Horrific cramping churns inside of you and you watch aghast as watery blood trickles down your thighs and legs.

“Ezra!” You shriek hysterically, but he’s wrenched away from your aid as the tentacles swoop down and grab you up in their clutches.

His frantic voice is drowned out as the black takes you again.

This place is too bright.

It glitters and glares at you in a striking cobalt like you’ve never seen before. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust but when they do, you find yourself sprawled on a never-ending bed of sharp diamond pieces.

Millions of them are scattered over the ground, around your feet; cutting into your buttocks and back as you’re spread over them like you’ve been dumped in here carelessly.

They’re protruding out of the rock walls and you can see them sparkle above you, twinkling like distant stars through a kaleidoscopic blue galaxy.

Your fingers rifle through them and clutch them, squeezing the shards. You watch as your skin is pierced and bleeds, yet you feel no physical pain.

The beauty stuns you for a moment and you forget your predicament for a while as you just marvel in the perplexity.

But you’re soon shoved back into it when you feel the cramps twist up your cervix and you scream out in agony.

“Ssh, it’ll soon be over, dove.” You hear Ezra’s soothing drawl and see a million of his hawkish faces in every facet gleaming at you.

He crunches over the diamonds as he walks, bare feet bleeding and he’s naked. Cock lithe and hard, dripping with a pearly secretion you long to drink from.

He no longer has a stump where his right arm should be, but a long thick tentacle that pulses and squirms excitedly as he strides towards you.

He crouches down at your feet, parting your thighs and runs his tongue up the sweaty streaks of them.

“Ezra, what the fuck is happening?” You gasp and grunt through a fierce contraction. Your insides feel like they’re ripping open and your cervix tightens in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Hush now. You give it what it wants and we can have what we want.” He runs his tongue over the bubbly seam of your dilated cunt and sucks upon your clit hungrily for a beat, pulling a convulsion out of you. “Play your part, Birdie.”

You hum out, head lolling backwards as you can’t help but succumb to the intense sucking on your bud from his lips.

“We knew you’d taste so good.” He whines and the thick black of his arm scales your throat and wraps itself around you, choking you as you gasp.

You cry out as another contraction bears down on your uterus and you can feel a heavy rush followed by a saturated squelch.

Ezra draws back and watches keenly as you birth the pupate azure eggs planted inside you. You scream through it; the agony makes your cunt and womb feel like they’re on fire and he coaxes you through it, lapping up the amniotic fluid each time you disembogue it out.

Sparkling diamonds fall from your hole and Ezra leads you into a jubilant climax as he sucks on your clit and furrows his fingers inside to help pull them out.

The diamonds shatter as the tiny organisms inside birth and slither away into the walls; the glittery shells they leave behind are your trophy.

You watch, astonished and soaked in sweat, as they vacate the discarded diamonds to join the mass of tentacles where they’ll grow and eventually breed another like you who should be so gluttonous as to seek their treasure.

You give it what it wants and we can have what we want.

An exchange. A life cycle. A quid pro quo.

Play your part, Birdie.

“Mmmaaaah!”

Your attention is diverted by Ezra pulling another orgasm from you into his mouth. Then, he’s climbing up your body like an arachnid. His tentacle arm slithers behind you and he spreads you open with his thick cock.

He brutally fucks your spent, stretched hole; his seed soothes the pain, numbs it out almost like a leeches bite.

You cling onto him as he grunts and wheezes inside of your ear.

“You did so good for us, Birdie.” He praises and you can’t help but smile and welcome him in fully as he drills so deep inside of you that you can feel the tip slither out of your mouth between your teeth and into his as he kisses you; becoming an entwined ouroboros of unrelenting pleasure.

It feels like it will never stop as his hips crack and hammer into yours, and you pass out, weighted down by exhaustion of all extremes.

Puggart Bench, 4 cycles ago...

“I feel some convival attraction to you, despite my infructuous emancipation of it.” Ezra says as he sups at his glass of golden suds. "Your pluckiness appeals to my better nature, Birdie."

"That's the beer talking." You smirk.

He eyes you with a slightly arched brow and wet pink lips. The foam of his beer drags along his moustache and you watch him lick it clean with a quick flick of his tongue. "A siren, no doubt... I'll willingly drown in you."

"Stop with the sweet talk, prospector and get to the point." You mirth. Although his carnal wooing leaves sweat beading on your skin.

“You understand the objective?”

You nod. “Seems simple enough.”

You’d discussed it at length despite the slight buzz you’d gotten from the beer intake, and yet the plan came together without as much input from yourself. He knew the route, he knew the place. He knew where the diamonds were.

And he did all the damn talking.

All you had to do was assist him with the manual labour of it all, as he put it. Mine and prospect. Fly you both in and out too. An extra pair of hands where he only had half.

But it seemed a little too good to be true and you went to question him further when you felt someone knock into your chair from behind.

A wayward hand was felt trying to cup your breast and you grabbed it and squeezed it in a tight crush.

“I’d rethink that, friend. Unless you still want this hand to jerk you off tonight?” You spoke over your shoulder to the drunk assailant trying to grab at you.

He dribbled something shy of an apology onto your shoulder and you let him go, not before removing the ring on his middle finger that encased a shiny, expensive looking gem. Might fetch some credits for your inconvenience.

“Fiery one, aren’t you?” Ezra mused as he observed the whole thing.

“Just another night in this squalor. I can hold my own.” You replied, stuffing the ring in your pocket.

"Good. I require you strong. You play your part, Birdie. I'll see that you're rewarded handsomely for it."

"You speak as if mining diamonds is a dangerous art. It isn’t. I’m fairly astute in the work of dirty hands."

"These aren't just ordinary diamonds to cut your teeth on." He leaned in, placing the glass down on the table with a heavy thud.

You could smell the stink of the alcohol on his breath and that putrid musk of sweat wafting from him, mixed in with something else sweet and foreboding.

He smelled like death - sweet, alluring death.

His scruff was oily and scattered across his ageing, tan skin and throat, and his dark brown eyes bore into your own for a few moments, contemplating.

Ezra ran his hand around his grazed chin, rubbing at the stubble there now peppered with scabs and grey whiskers as he mulled over the thoughts about you accompanying him in his mind.

Black gunk was embedded in his nail beds. His hand was large for his frame, like a great big shovel for a palm; one that could crush a human skull with little effort, you thought. Once armed with two, you could only speculate as to what vile menace those hands could have caused.

“Where do you come from?” You ask him curiously as you sup. That stark blonde streak at his hairline catches the light and looks like it shimmers at you with tempting promises and false conviction.

Ezra looks up at you from his position at the table and smirks. “Where do you come from?” He challenges back.

He looks at you with a haggard expression that is unchanging. It begins to creep you out a little bit the more you see it, making prickles rise on the back of your neck. He suddenly has a way of making you feel nervous for no reason at all.

And men usually don’t make you feel nervous.

You draw back with a contemplative hiss. “The less we know about each other, the better.” You taunt. “No names, for instance.”

He's already haunting your blood as you feel it warm under your skin, and the slick bubble of sweat upon the back of your neck makes its presence known.

“Why the ambiguity?” He questions with a glass stare. "My name is Ezra." He casually tosses his name in front of you on the table, expecting you to return.

But you don't.

You're feeling prickles run all over your skin. You just want to wash him away with the grime and murk that coats his breath.

A spooky, amaranthine being regarding you from opposite the table and he smirks crookedly again through those swollen lips, pursed out, yet remains tight-lipped. You wonder what they taste like.

You wonder whether his foreskin his clipped, what his come tastes like.

“Getting cosy isn’t my style, Ezra.” You mutter, gulping back more foam and blinking the wanton haze away.

“Well regardless, what a delightful romp it would be to charter to Narilla with you, pet. I’m in if you’re in.” Ezra says after some time of eyeing you.

“I’m in,” you agree, sealing your fate. “Although, wouldn’t you rather have some strong muscle to offer us some leverage in case things go awry? There’s plenty of dick-for-brains to choose from.” You glance around the bar at the crass prospectors and miners in all their lunkhead glory.

“Nothing will go awry.” Ezra shakes his head. He clears his throat. “You’ll do just fine. You're Kevva sent for it.”

You feel his eyes drink you in as they wander over your body and you consider for a moment if you’ll end up back at his place tonight riding his face.

The idea isn’t as heinous as you’d like.

“A quick expedition then.” You confirm.

“That it is. We needn’t linger on the moon in the throes of a harsh winter.” His eyes dart away as though recalling something execrable as he struggles to swallow his beer. “In and out.” Ezra clarifies. "It'll be over quickly."

You nod once in agreement.

“There is a price for what you seek, prospectors. Especially you, girlie.” A foreign voice comes from beside you on the adjacent table.

A man with one eye glares under the shroud of his hood at you. A horrific scar as deep as a magenta trench replaces his other eye. Encrusted with old yellow skin like scales that were in various decays of flaking.

“Balderdash and frivolous superstition.” Ezra simply rebuts and knocks back the remnants of the amber beer down his throat.

“What do you mean, a price?” You query with a lazy smirk over your own numb lips to the creepy eavesdropper.

“He means nothing. Just trying to rile you, Birdie, is all. Come on now, we’ll drink some more. I insist. Celebrate our impending agreement.”

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" You muse.

"Why? Is it working? Am I attractive enough to you yet that you'll let me…" he looks up and down your body and licks his lips. "Indulge?"

"You're so presumptuous, Ezra" You smirk. "Maybe I'll be the one to indulge."

Ezra sways you up towards the bar with him and you think no more of it.

Later, you do indeed indulge, and ride hard on his hawkish face as he makes you come hard through juddery breaths as he fucks you with his serpent tongue relentlessly.

You can feel that heady pull on your clit as he sucks out your pleasure greedily in droves whilst you fist through his greasy hair in rapture as you grind your cunt against the furry graze of his chin.

As you suspected you would.

But now, that odd stranger is here, in the diamond pit with you; staring you down with his singular ragged eye watching as the glory of Ezra buries himself inside of you, and that man is whispering to you and now you know.

He was right, there was a price for Narilla’s diamonds.

You know everything now.

“You knew, didn’t you?” You question Ezra as his silhouette fuzzes into clarity.

The look on his face tells you all you need to know.

Of course he did. It all makes sense now.

“It’s why you favoured me over the other miners to accompany you; because I have a fucking womb!” You spit. "This was my part to play, wasn't it?"

You throw the diamonds you’d been holding at him, and he flinches as they pelt at his feet; his coveted prize.

“Birdie-” He holds up his palm, open in surrender.

“Don’t. Fucking. Call. Me. That!” You launch yourself at him and you both clatter to the stony ground.

You claw at him, aiming for his bastard face, but his free hand captures your fist. He clamps his legs around you to stop you gaining height over him and rolls, pinning you beneath him with ease.

For a man with one arm, he's still incredibly strong and slippery.

“No harm done.” Ezra sneers as you falter; his grip on your wrist flexing it backward a little until you feel a subtle crack and you hiss. “You fulfilled your part, yes. That is true. You got yourself remunerated. We’re free to depart now. It’s how this arrangement works.” He says, darkly.

“I should kill you, you piece of shit!" You seethe at him.

He looks offended. “Now, now. You weren’t saying that earlier when I was buried deep in the hilt of you.” He smirks sinisterly.

“You weren’t,” you shake him off and he rolls onto his back and snickers though rasps. “It wasn’t real.” You affirm, sitting up and flexing your wrist.

"Are you sure?" He questions you smugly.

"No. It was just-" You shake your head.

“Real enough for you to gestate and birth its offspring in droves.” Ezra reminds you.

“You want to lose your other fucking arm?” You warn through a snarl.

He sighs, the smirk dying. “You can’t simply procure the diamonds; you have to replenish your fill. They won’t let you leave if you just take from them. You have to have something to offer in return.” His eyes fall on your body, hungrily. “As I man, I can’t replenish. But you can.”

“You're not a man, you’re a fucking insect!” You rile.

“If I had delineated you the truth, you would never have accompanied me on this treacherous quest.” Ezra mutters, annoyed with clicked lips. “You were an unwitting comrade in my mournful web of deceit, I admit. I'm the arachnid, and you the fly..."

"Fuck you."

He snickers breathily. "I harbour no ill will towards you. You’re quite amiable despite your folly. I would have never let any permanent detriment come to you, Bir-.” He stops short of the moniker as he witnesses your stony glare.

“That’s fucking noble of you.” You growl.

“You’re still alive, yes? All supple appendages intact?”

You glare at him some more.

“Then we completed our charge fully unscathed and significantly richer for it.” Ezra simply says with a casual shrug of indifference.

You really want to punch him and feel his large nose shatter under your knuckles.

“What we possess now is incredibly rare. So few venture here because of the down payment required. You'll be a queen among mere men. You should think yourself fortunate.” He puts, examining one of the diamond shards carefully.

“Tell that to my insides!" You snap. You can still feel the ache; the rawness from the unexpected birth.

"It's what your glorious body was made for. To bear the fruit of life, is it not?"

"That," you point towards the swarming cluster "is not fucking fruit, Ezra!"

Ezra sighs and reaches for you gingerly. "I am burdened with my part in this. I am a host to belligerent shame. Honesty is a skill I do not possess in its entirety. But you and I, we make a damn hoot of a team."

"The prospector and her pimp!" You scoff.

"I'll make it right, if you’ll permit me?"

His deep, brown eyes bore into you and you feel something wobble inside you.

“I meant it when I said I liked you, pet. That clandestine night on The Pug with you? Kevva, it replays in my mind and won't let me have no peace. Your cunt stink is still all up in my sheets." He licks his lips, sucking on the bottom and recalling your taste for a beat with a satisfied murmur - a groan that your skin ignites to in response.

"Who would desire me like this now aside from the whores on Luxillion who take my credits and don't remember my name? They just remember this..." Ezra glances down at his missing appendage.

"I ponder if it was pity on your part, and I would not linger in offense if it was, but regardless, it was something. To me. And I do not take the pleasure you offered me so freely, and with an inkling of that desire for yours truly returned, lightly and with regret." He finishes.

You sigh and shake your head, unable to ignore fully the fizzing inside your veins as he says it, how earnest he suddenly appears.

Despite yourself, that night with him was indeed... something.

There was something so deliciously unkempt about him. Frivolous around the seedy murk. Something that your better nature repelled against, and yet caved to all the same.

“How the fuck do we get out of here?” You groan, looking up at the swarm of tentacles engulfing the only means of escape.

You're not sure if you can take another mind fucking, or a physical one. But your pussy clenches and it zaps on your clit regardless.

“The way we came in, I have already iterated that escape route to you, despite your reluctance to partake. It seems appeased, I think. Satiated. Might pass us up without further incident.”

"Well, I guess we have no choice." You utter.

Ezra gathers the diamonds and shoves them into his wet pockets until they bulge. He looks at you forlornly. “Thank you,” he notes.

You soften despite yourself. “Hold my hand this time. I don’t want to be separated from you and left behind now you’ve gotten what you wanted. I would expect no less from you.”

You can feel it on your skin. The dread. The desire the pit had for you. The fact that, despite his slimy betrayal, you still feel it burn in your core when he smiles crookedly at you.

"I would gladly leave these treasures here, if it meant not taking you with me." He says through molten brown eyes.

"You're so full of shit." You sigh, smirking.

Ezra reaches out with a timid grin of his own and you step forward, interlocking your fingers tightly in his.

“That's as may be, but I won’t let go.” He promises and you believe him as his thumb strokes over the ridge of your knuckles.

You feel his sincerity crush the bones in your hand.

“Once we get out of here, I think I never want to see your face again.” You warn him, but you can feel that your resolve already has cracks in it as you offer him a small, twinkly smile.

“That might be difficult…” Ezra holds up your interlocked hands and they are no longer hands in a muscled knot.

Instead, they are a singular arm that starts from your shoulder and ends at the ball joint on his. The skin is perfectly smooth and there is no separation on where you begin and Ezra ends.

“What the fuck?” You gasp.

“Embrace it, Birdie. It’s the only way we’re getting out.” Ezra smirks. "One last hurrah." He laughs and his breath suddenly smells like the dead Trogs on Ajaxia, as you inhale it into your stomach where it soils and grows roots.

You feel your toes leave the ground as the tentacles lift you upwards. Your joint appendage with Ezra stretches as you feel them try to separate you both.

Somewhere under the muscles and sinew, you grip onto him and he grips you back just as hard.

The nebula rises above you both and you cover your eyes with your free arm as it swells in intensity and size.

Your hand is pulled out of his from under the skin, like taking off a glove and Ezra desperately pulls you into his lap. You wrap your legs around his waist tightly locking you in and he grunts at the welcome intrusion from the crest of your pelvis crushed against his own.

"Not letting you go," he assures. Or warns. They sound one in the same.

His free fingers now push into your skull, sinking into the soft jellied mass of your brain and your own hands grip onto his shoulders, sinking into the bone beneath his flesh.

They slide in so easily, like fluid and you gasp out as he fills your cunt; that pulsing cock free from his undergarments and pumping his spend liberally into you and doesn’t stop. It floods your pussy, leaking out around his fat shaft and dripping down your thighs in thick globules.

“You taste so good, Birdie.” Ezra rasps and his voice is sulfuric. “We could devour you for eternity.”

He pulls back and his mouth is full of your milky flesh; your blood pooling from the corner of his lips and you hear his molars crunch through your bone fragments.

“Stay,” he wheezes. “Stay with us here and let us live inside you.” He pleads as he takes another bite, consuming you whole; his cock thrusting deeper into you and you groan and wail as he drowns you.

You can feel it filling you, that thick seminal fluid pouring from your ears, your nostrils and your eyes.

You're slipping, fading.

You want to stay but you know you should be somewhere else. Somewhere you’re not sure is real and you only dreamed of it.

But the nebula… it’s so fucking beautiful.

To never see it again wrenches your heart. You pluck it from your chest; a mass of sloppy ventricles and offer it out to the amethyst abyss.

You watch as it disintegrates into ash in your palm. You can still feel Ezra filling you, drowning you and you know this is where you belong.

You belong with them; this mass of tentacles that feeds you everything you could only ever imagine and crave. At one with the universe and home inside of the purple nebula that speaks the same language as you and shares a brainstem and-

“Birdie!”

You’re wrenched and you surface; spluttering as your grapple for the ledge with slippery fingers.

Ezra pulls you over, groaning with the strain as you topple onto him and gasp out. The diamonds spill from his pockets around you both and he pants into your face, his own reddening from the exertion.

“I got you,” he says, his face shiny and wet. "Easy now."

Your shaky fingers around the familiarity of his brackish features as you realise you're back on solid ground and out of the pit.

You can feel his chest heave against yours as you're crushed to him; his arm tight against your back.

“You didn’t leave me in there.” You marvel at him with those pink cheeks around his scruff.

“Do you think me completely unscrupulous, woman?” He frowns.

You lean in and kiss him, planting a deep relieved smooch onto his chapped lips and he’s taken by surprise.

You suck on his tongue and your kiss erupts into something unfinished. He groans back into your mouth as you can still feel how hard he is, how he pulses under you with need and it spreads into you.

“So, I assume by this mere token of affection, you no longer wish to gut me?” He gasps around your mouth.

“No, I still very much wish to,” you smile. “But right now, I just want you inside of me, Ezra. Fuck me.”

His grip on you strengthens. “I can certainly oblige to that,” he gruffs. "Seeing as we almost perished today."

"Almost," you growl.

He pushes his head up to kiss you again. He wastes no time and reaches down as you both fumble around your sticky, cloying undergarments.

He shimmies his long johns down his thighs as best as he can, pulling out his turgid cock that's pulsing with need and slippery with pre-cum.

You pull your shorts to the side as you sit down on him, sinking all the way down to his swollen balls.

“Fuck, Birdie... Better than the visions,” he whines, the cords in his neck straining and pupils blown wide. “So tight..." He gasps as you start rocking on him. "Oh, forgive me, pet. I won't last.”

"I don't care." You grunt wanting him and taking him, as you grind your hips back and forth sloppily.

He feels fucking divine; packing you out and stretching you through this frantic, clumsy fuck you’ve instigated, and you deduce you’re probably still out of your mind on whatever it was that had you feverish and delusional in the pit.

But it's of no matter; you’re too riled up to give a damn about anything else other than your release. And you want nothing more than to soak him.

It’s fast approaching as you grind down harder on him. You can feel him in the places where you’re still raw and tight, but you push through it; the pleasure is your driving force and it bubbles under your abdomen muscles and makes your toes spark.

"In Kevva's name, I swear you're magnificent," he rambles, reaching up with his free hand to grope and palm your breast over your camisole. He watches as you slide up and down on his cock, bewildered and in awe as your slick oils up the dark hairs around the base of him.

"Oh shit," he cants.

You suck on his deceitful tongue as you ride him and milk his cock for all it’s worth. Your peak is so close, quick and bursting like colourful strobes under your eyelids as your clit rubs deliciously against his fuzzy groin curls.

Your walls tighten and flutter around his girthy muscle buried to the hilt in you.

“Mmm fuck, Ezra, I’m going to-” You pant.

“Me too, come for me. All over my cock.” He hisses. “Now! Gah, sweet mother of Kevva,” he groans. “Ohshitohshitohshit… oh-oh shit!"

You tense and shake over him like an earthquake; eyes rolling back into your head and fingers digging into his chest meat.

Your thighs smack against the soft paunch of his stomach as you slow your pace and ride it out until the stars dissipate and that purple nebula fades into the black for good.

A small part of you is sad to see it go.

You feel Ezra pulse and fill you with his own warm heat and it spills out of you as you collapse onto his sternum, your cheek sticking to his wet clothed nipple, satiated and exhausted.

You glance at your discarded flight suits, after what feels like an eternity later of just laying stuck to him and listening to his heartbeat ebb, before you’d entered the creature's pit and realise this was all so very warped and that you actually made it out unscathed, like he had said.

Like he'd promised.

You’re still unsure if it all really happened or if your mind is playing tricks on you. All you can remember is the violet beauty and the feeling of being filled so deeply.

You feel his thick fingers run through the oil of your hair gently rousing your focus. "As much as I'd enjoy staying here with you on this idle precipice, it appears we should make haste to depart before anything else untoward occurs."

You nod and glance up at him, placing a gentle kiss on the scarred skin of his stump poking out under his t-shirt, which makes his eyes glisten at you.

You shuffle off of him and reach for your suit, careful not to eye him and a small part of you wanting to forget it all.

But you can’t forget a man like Ezra so easily - he’s furrowed in too deep already; got those grubby, thick fingers embedded deep into your skin and poisoning you with the dirt that constantly lives under his nails.

He bore witness to your ruining down in the pit, your undoing.

He was there with you as your skin was flayed down to the bone. The complete annihilation of your soul as it tarnished before him. He sought to devour the nerves under your flesh, the depraved delights that the pit drew out of you and into his waiting and willing mouth.

He didn't choke on you like you wanted.

Ezra regards you with a shine in his dark, beady eyes and offers you a small, creeping smile which you can’t help but return as you both dress and reattach your helmets.

The diamonds glitter all around your feet and the euphoria of knowing they’re yours is a little overwhelming.

"I would kill for a shower right now." You say as you follow him back the way you came through the internalised cave systems. Your body stills feels sticky and wet under your flight suit.

You hear him guffaw inside your ear. "Is there not a sanitation pod housed on your lander?"

"No," you frown. "Was too expensive to rent one with luxurious amenities."

"A shame." He concurs. "Although, we can bathe in the waters with the nymphs on Luxillion now if we wish."

"Luxillion?" You snort. "Burning a hole in your pocket already?"

"A man can but dream." Ezra husks inside your ear. "What of your ambition, Birdie?"

You shrug. "Haven't really thought about it."

"You can afford to mull it over some." He crackles.

"Yes I can," you smile, realising that both Ezra and you can simply afford anything you want right now. No matter how ludicrous a thing it is that you desire.

Back in the confines of the lander, you take the controls as Ezra tucks your share of the diamonds into your knapsack.

“If you’ve short changed me, I’ll hunt you down, prospector.” You warn him though a short side glare.

“Perhaps I should recount if you make tempting promises such as those, Birdie.” Ezra quips and smiles at you like a dim light bulb before it runs out of juice.

The thrusters roar into life and the lander pod launches into a frosty orbit. The static still blocks everything out as you fly blind up into the ether. The radio comms crackling and tinny in their off-beat drones.

“Don’t call me that,” you simply say; a small smirk of your own breeding across your lips that you lick away.

“Then what do I call you? I wish to let it roll off my tongue when I fuck you some more back on The Pug.” He simply croons.

You scoff. “You’re so presumptuous, Ezra.” You shake your head with a breathy snuffle of a laugh. “Perhaps, I’ll be the one to fuck you."

And the thought makes your clit throb excitedly, despite it's over-stimulated ache.

"I'll ensure you're held to that bold proposition, pet." Ezra simply clicks his tongue around his teeth, the taste of you still in his gum meat somewhere.

"I would expect no less from you." You quip.

You feel his singular hand creep onto your thigh and give it a good gentle squeeze. Instead of being disgusted, you smile and enjoy the pleasure it evokes through your bloodstream as he warms you.

You then surprise him by caving and finally revealing your name, casually letting it flow from your lips as you release the landing gear.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." He grins slickly at you in some deft accomplishment. "Wasn't such a hard endeavor now, was it?"

Ezra sits back in the nav seat smirking as you launch fully into The Fringe, leaving the delectable nightmares of Narilla behind you both.

MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

I really hope you enjoyed reading this Ezra story of mine. I had a lot of fun writing this and really wanted to challenge myself with this genre. Please let me know your thoughts. I'll be writing more Ezra for sure. 🖤

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loneleegirlee · 11 months

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the beast must die fked me good. going into the first few chapters i instinctively knew this was going to be one fked up manhwa. but no, i was not prepared for how fked up and realistic this manhwa was going to be. the art was mid but towards the end (i think the side stories especially) the art became so good! especially when kirin grew up.

i want to say i wont read this again but i feel like i might because it’s actually impactful. everyone knows the author did a lot of research on the topic and they are so freaking smart like maybe 20 episodes in, i got confused because things were happening so fast and i couldn’t comprehend it.

i am used to seeing the good in the characters because of all the manhwas i read. so i kept convincing myself about kang moo. he is such a well written character and i cannot delude myself into ignoring the facts of his character. he is no saint. he is not morally grey. he is black. that’s why in the first part of the manhwa, he was able to tolerate the shit that was being done to the main character. although kang moo is black, i cant bring myself to say he is a bad person. i really cant. and not in a “i pity him” way, but in a “i like him” way so i cant think badly of him.

i feel my heart breaking for kirin. kirin has been through so much and i want nothing but a happy ending for him but he will not have one because no one will love him romantically. i realised that in manhwas, when the characters don’t explicitly say “i love you” to each other, i think to myself “so, do they know the other party likes them?” (checkmate) i mean, acts of service does work, but words of affirmation are important right? anyways, somehow throughout this manhwa, even though “i love you” was never said, i somehow stupidly thought they loved each other. i feel so damn stupid because it was only kirin and his acts of service are so damn strong to the point that words of affirmation is not even needed? when i realised that, it was so heartbreaking.

i glossed through the final ending and once again, i could not comprehend what was going on. or perhaps this time, i had an inkling but wanted to ignore it so bad. i looked at the author’s replies to comments and i felt sad.

firstly, the first comment hit me so hard because i convinced myself that kang moo loved kirin. but i forgot something important which is that sometimes, yaoi are realistic and there is no happily ever after.

the second comment was an oof. the fact that kirin’s life was entangled with kang moo from then on and how the author said “think”? it’s felt as though the author treated her characters as real people with their own thoughts and emotions so she cannot say for sure how the character felt but she was trying to understand them.

anyways, then my late night thoughts hit. (as if last night with ‘i’m yours, blood and soul’ ending was not harsh enough [honestly, yes it wasn’t as harsh as today’s but still]) and i found myself crying because of kang moo and kirin’s story (the fact that i cant put love before story? fk me a million times over) . i kept thinking about the first comment and the 3 years thing. (how there was no meaning behind 3 years or 5 years besides the fact that it would be cruel to say “the rest of your life”? i’m almost crying again.) then, i decided to whip out my phone and some checks just to make sure there was a happy ending (like maybe kang moo and kirin lived together until they died) but i saw this instead.

what do you perhaps? 😭 it was such a bad feeling but i pretended like the author just didn’t want to say they slept together after.

so, unsatisfied, i continued on my search to see if the author said anything about a happily ever after. i couldn’t find so i just went to see comments about the ending. and wow, this comment by BeliNicole on anime planet made me cry.

i fully agreed with the part that kang moo cares but doesn’t understand it as care or love. but somehow i was convinced that it was love because the manhwas i usually read with characters will eventually realise that its love. even though i knew kang moo was a psychopath and the author mentioned / hinted throughout that he has no feelings, i still thought that kang moo could change. (how dumb because even the person who diagnosed him basically said he was untreatable)

anyways, i read this part a few times and the last few sentences sent me. at first i thought perhaps kang moo would go on a killing spree because he feels heartbroken (because if it’s not love why would he go down on kirin when he doesn’t like it and why would he bring / “force” kirin overseas with him and why would he be jealous when kirin talks to his ex?) but now i realise, it’s not heartbreak. it’s because his grounding is now lost and he has lost all reason (i am not super good at analyzing so i cant say i know whether it was jealously or why kang moo was jealous so i’m just going to attribute it to the fact that kang moo likes to be in control and hates being controlled [kirin did mention about this in one of his dreams when he saw kang moo go to jail]). its so sad because i thought kang moo was getting better once he integrated into life with kirin (the car scene with the manager made me laugh a lot and how kang moo celebrated kirin’s birthday? wow. i cannot. i have teared up again) kirin really loves kang moo so much and i want to say kirin is so handsome he could find anyone else and they would want him but kirin wouldn’t want anyone else. is kirin really lucky that kang moo is loyal to him because kirin will never experience the feeling of love (or maybe he did since he dated before?) anyways, i still feel sad because kang moo will never love kirin the same as kirin loves him. in fact, kang moo will never love kirin full stop.

it just occurred to me that if kang moo knew how sweet he was acting, he would immediately clarify that it was not intentional. perhaps kang moo did not want to lead kirin on because he knows he cannot give kirin what he wants.

this commentor helped me tie the knots about the ending and it broke me because the facts was laid out plain and it made sense why i went so far to find out if there was a happy ending. it also made me realise, kang moo is not morally grey but black. initially there was a part about how he doesn’t kill humans and i kept harping on it so even when he did take lives (especially towards the end) i kept thinking that it was unintentional. but no, i was deluding myself. kirin really loves kang moo and i know i keep saying it but the more i say it the more i realise how much kirin loves kang moo and i feel so sad and i’m crying again 😭. i cant even say i feel so bad for kirin because the author said kirin probably doesn’t regret meeting kang moo. shit, this sucks so bad. no wonder kirin cried in the last chapter.

thank you BeliNicole for opening my eyes and making me realise what a tragic masterpiece this manhwa was. i really never want to read it again because i don’t want to cry this much again but i think i will read it again someday 😭

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kitakashi · 2 years

Note

✨ If you get this ask, tell us more about your selfship(s)! And then feel free to pass this ask around ✨

Iwa 👏 Kita 👏 Akashi 👏 Kuroko 👏 and I know you got more girl 👀

👉👈 I always feel weird talking about selfship… I’ve interacted with some VERY possessive people who 😬 need a reality check. I don’t want to trigger that. But since you asked I’ll indulge you. 🥰 However, my head 🤕 is starting to throb again so it’ll only be the four you mentioned 😔. Also… these got way longer than I thought they’d be 😅.

Iwaizumi Hajime 💪 (mutual pinning) His years being Oikawa’s partner trained him to take care of me and my chaotic personality. He always listens patiently to my rambling with a smile on his face. He’s up for adventure but also completely okay with staying home if my social battery is empty or I have a migraine. Haji is all about quality time. He sits next to me on his laptop reviewing his work documents while I read. Occasionally leaning over to softly kiss me or intertwine his fingers with mine. He’s constantly reassuring me that I’m beautiful and no one takes his breath away like I do. He’s a simp. That’s also what pushed him to confess. Accidentally telling me how in love with me he is when I was in a pit of self loathing. After that he saw no point hiding his affection. My big beefy baby. Haji always makes sure to have time just for me even if we have to schedule a date night because life gets to hectic. He’s reassuring and passionate, doesn’t let me talk down to myself. He’s my top cheerleader. I have no clue how I got so lucky.

Kita Shinsuke 🌾 (acquaintances to lovers) Long time friends with his underclassmen, Kita has always had his eye on me but he wasn’t in my radar for the longest time. It wasn’t until another heartbreak happened and Kita was there yet again to help me put the pieces back together, that I noticed how perfect he is. Shin is service oriented. He says I love you by doing things constantly that I don’t want to/can’t/forget to do. The little things that you’d complain about to your friends - Shin has no faults there. Having him gently wash my hair while I feel terrible is louder than any verbal affirmation for me. Not that he doesn’t say those words, he certainly does. He makes me feel appreciated and valued.

Akashi Seijūrō ♟ (allies to lovers) Two people forced to work together constantly on projects in school. Intelligent conversations that spin off on tangents. Not even realizing hours have passed. Sei was interested as bokushi Akashi but never made a move until after he lost against Seirin. It was then he realized he wanted a partner. I’m not an elegant dignified individual. I’m blunt, sarcastic and choose comfort over style. Even so, Sei fell for my rough edges. Falling for him wasn’t optional after seeing his soft smile. Sei still treats me like a queen empress. When his father objected he made an argument that he argued back leaving his father speechless. Sei just wants someone to treat him as human and not a prince, someone to accept the faults (few as they may be) and love him regardless. He wants companionship. He’s also touch starved. Another clingy baby. I love rubbing the stress from his back and shoulders as he decompresses from the day. I accept all of him and he accepts me. After being together so long simply as class partners it became apparent we were destined to also be life partners. Sei is observant and compassionate, he’s always there before I need him. I never have to wonder or guess where I stand. He’s always sweet with praises and comforting words. He’s just a bit obnoxious when it comes to trying to prank him, it rarely works.

Kuroko Tetsuya 🐶 (notice me/obvious affection but oblivious to it) Sweet baby Tetsu. Unlike the others, I chased him. He couldn’t fathom why I wanted the invisible man but after he realized I was serious he accepted me wholeheartedly. Of the four of them, Tetsu gets jealous the most. He gets pouty and afraid I’ll forget about him. But it’ll never happen. He needs words of affirmation and I am all too happy to acquiesce. I spit out pick up lines until he’s red in the face. Not exactly what he wished for but he wouldn’t change me for the world. I love how open and honest he is, also his quiet passion and strength moved Seirin to win the winter tournament. Without him, Kagami never would have been able to unlock his potential. Although we are both quiet, we remind each other neither of us are invisible and we both matter.

#ev. 💌#precious mutual 💍#self ship #Akashi x me #Kuroko x me #Iwaizumi x me #Kita x me

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dailyaudiobiblechronological · 2 years

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8/18/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

Jeremiah 38 - 40

Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm China. Today is the 18th day of wow, what month? Wow. I'm just gonna, like, skip over August. Skip over September. It's October. Wow, that just happened. It is the 18 August. Thank you. Wow. I don't know what's happening. Wow, it happened. Okay, moving on. It's the 18 August, welcome. So glad you were here. Today, we are continuing in the story of Jeremiah, we are in chapters 38 - 40, continuing on with the Evangelical Heritage Version for this week.

Commentary

Could you imagine being Jeremiah, you are faithfully giving over what the Lord has said. You are sharing what he has spoken. Yes, it is clearly not a glamorous job. I don't even think that it's a job. I don't think he's compensated for it, but it's clearly not a I mean, prophets are revered. They're hearing the word of the Lord very frequently, and it seems like to me that they're not always the most loved people. And I get it. To me, I'm like, okay, but your issue isn't with Jeremiah. Your issue is like, you don't like what the Lord is saying, so shouldn't you listen to what the Lord is saying? Turn from your ways. Yes, it sounds easy, right? It's like, this is what you should do. And I know that when you're in a place of I want to be right. I have this image to protect. Like, humility isn't always the front of your mind choice or decision that you're like, yeah, let me just humble myself really quickly. Although it would for sure switch some things around or change some things and make things happen a little better for you, like not your entire city being wiped out or demolished or your eyeballs being poked out or your son's getting killed in front of you. So again, it sounds like the right choice, and the easy choice would just be like, surrender to the Lord and give these prophets a break. And I also know that I'm not sure what it's like to be a man and to have the hormones of a man raging through my body. I know what it's like to be a female and have female hormones raging through my body. And I know that when my mind is made up about something is really difficult for me to, one remember how to breathe properly. That's, like, resetting my body, let alone be like, what is the Lord saying? What is he speaking? How can I choose Humility? How can I choose what he's saying? Especially if you had a word that was like, you're going to be demolished. Could you imagine getting that word? Hey, you're going to die. I'm going to tread very lightly here. I think the thing like modern day, like, where we are now in gifts of prophecy and glamorizing prophets in a way that's like, everybody wants to be one in this day and age, I feel like maybe it's wrong. I don't think there's anything wrong with it. But I also know that prophets and prophecy typically is more of words of warning, words of caution. And I feel like what's being promoted in the capital C church is, oh, well, if you don't hear anything that's, like, loving and affirming, then it's not from God. And I'm like I agree with that. I do hear that. Right. And I also am reading today's story, and I'm hearing that God is giving them words of warning, words of correction, and there's things being included in words that say, you'll be demolished. You'll be no more. You'll be burned. You'll be turned over into these people's hands. Obviously, if we were to hear someone say that to us in a church setting or, like, at dinner, your servers like, hey, I'm actually like a part time prophet, and thus sayeth the Lord, if you don't, yada yada yada yada yada, you will be burned by fire. I think we'd be like, Check, please. Right, I get it. We're in a very different time. You have to translate those things for sure, because it just doesn't like, we live very Western. Well, I do. I live very Western. I don't know where you live, but these are very Eastern stories. They're very different culture, very different times. So that stuff you have to understand, it's a little different and not coming after prophets, not coming after you get to prophecy by any means. And I am saying, like, it's interesting to me how I feel like being a prophet is a big deal. It's a big honor. You are hearing the word of the Lord, and you are extending that to the people that he is telling you. That's a lofty position. It is no small thing. I'm sure it's exhausting. I'm sure it's tiring. And in Jeremiah's case, he gets put in a cistern. I'm sure it is narrow as all get out. I'm sure it is deep and dark and smelly and nilly, probably humid. Obviously. Terrifying. Terrifying. Oh, I'm feeling claustrophobic just thinking about it, and yet that's how he was treated. Honestly, there's part of me that would be really curious to research more into profits and within that time and age and understanding all of it. Because now I feel like the day and age again, the capital C church, people are like, man, if I could just get five minutes long as a prophet taking the dinner or whatever. And just ask them all the questions that they could give me answers from the Lord instead of it's just very different. Like, the translation where we read about prophets does not translate to the way that we hear about prophets in today's day and age. And maybe that's not true for everybody, but I feel like we definitely appreciate the prophets. We're not throwing them in cisterns anymore. We're not, like, throwing them into jail and threatening their lives. It's just totally different. And this isn't, like, supposed to be a talk on prophets. Who am I to I don't know what it's like to be a prophet, but I am saying it's very interesting to read about them and how they were treated back then and now, how prophets are like super revered almost to an unhealthy point in my opinion, the ways that I've seen it. But also I don't really know any prophets who are like, this is a word of warning. And I don't know, I don't know. Let's just wrap it up there, shall we?

Prayer

Thank you for Your Word and I thank you for Your people and what a beautiful thing it is to hear Your Word. It would have been enough to just have creation and to have community with you and to be in the garden. And Lord, I'm sorry that it's not that way. And God, I also just thank you for the gift that we have to hear Your voice, to hear Your Word and to have Your Holy Spirit. How abundantly blessed are we that we are not alone, that we have you. We have so much access to you and what I pray that we would be using it and we wouldn't be solely reliant on whether it's a prophet or a pastor or a person in leadership or parent or anybody that we would be responsible for hearing from you ourselves. And I thank you, God, that we have a way reconciled back to you because of your son Jesus. And I think that's the good news. That's the gospel and may we live that out an abundance of truth in the way that Your Son came to give us life and life more abundantly. So God. I just pray that we'd be people who are eager to listen and hear from you each and every single day. That Your Word would truly be our daily bread. That we would hunger and thirst for you and the Word that we'd be excited to hear about you. Whether it's for our own sales. Whether it's for someone else. Whatever it is that you are speaking to us. Through us. Would we be willing and with our hearts and ears be strengthened by you and our hands and feet be ready. Even if that follows us like it led Your Son. And Lord, I just thank you for all that you are doing in our hearts and in our lives and in this community. Ask that you would unify it and bless it in Jesus name, amen.

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Dailyaudiobible.com is our website. That's the place of connections, it's where you can see what's happening here in the community. So be sure to check it out. If you have prayer requests and things that we as a community can come alongside of you and encourage you, you can call in 800-583-2164. And if you listen through the app, you can send in your request through there. It gets sent in here and played at the end of every day's podcast. I heard something that was like, if you are stumbling over your words, it's a sign of hunger. So I'm going to go get me a snack. That is all for today. I'm trying to. I love you, and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line

Good morning, family. It's Ing from Denmark. So there's been lots of calls over the past week where I said to myself, okay, I'm going to call in in a second and pray over this situation. But I'm in the process of moving, and I've got a lot of stuff going on, a lot of processes, ongoing things, and I have never gotten back to doing it, so I cannot put a name to them, but God can. But there's been a lot of people calling in despair over how their kids have walked away from the Lord, or maybe it's their spouse or another family member who wants to walk their own way and how that really hurts and worries these callers. And I've just had this imagery in my head of Jesus being the Good Shepherd who has this giant, enormous woollen flock of sheep, and he knows each and every one of them. And despite the fact that he will be looking at 99, he will know that one is missing, and he will not leave the 99. He will not stay behind with the 99 and say, like, oh, whatever, I'll be calling to the one sheep, and maybe you'll hear me and maybe I'll come back. Otherwise, I'm going to count my losses. That's not who he is. He's relentless, and he goes out and calls our name again and again. He does not stop. He does not speak. He does not run out of patience or energy or strength. So just know that Jesus is out there calling your loved ones, waiting for them to return to Him. Note that.

Good morning, DABC. This is Kristen in Louisiana, and I wanted to call in and pray for and encourage Anita from South Carolina. I've been meaning to call in for probably over a week to pray for you because you just been on my heart, and I just kept getting distracted and forgetting to do it. And so I'm sorry, Anita. Forgive me for that. But I just want you to know that you have been prayed for by lots of us. I know. And I just want to lift you up to the Lord and just encourage you to let Him step in and not only mother your children. Fill in that gap where you're not able to be there and heal wounds from the past. But also to let Him step in and mother you. Anita. And just fill in that gap for you and heal wounds that you have as well. So know that you are loved and that you and your children and your relationship is being prayed for. And I also want to pray for Nicole from Dallas. They played your prayer request today for your young daughter who's not living at home with you. And I just want to encourage you to keep trusting that where you're not physically able to be there and protect her and guide her and do all the things that, as mothers, we want to do physically, but you can still mother her in the most powerful way, which is pray for her, which I know that you're doing. So I pray that you're able to just trust that the Lord is going to fill in those gaps for you, too, Nicole, where you're not able to be there, that he's going to surrender.

Good morning, my DABC family. This is Marla from Wisconsin. And it is Friday, August 12. If you could, please be praying for me, especially during this next week. I will be away and with no WiFi for most of it, so I will be behind when I get back. But that's okay. It's easy enough to catch up if you can be praying. Part of this trip will be just a time of reflection with God regarding my husband who passed away. No, actually he graduated to heaven a year ago. The anniversary of that is on the 20th, August 20. And so that's part of what this week is. Plus some concerts I'll be going to. Just a time of deep healing. So I just asked for your price for that and also saving.

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weebswrites · 2 years

Note

hiii I’m really sorry to add on if you have a lot of requests to tend to so please feel free to ignore this if it’s too much! May I ask for some headcanons with the obey me brothers helping mc with very bad social anxiety please?

Idk why but my anxiety has gotten worse lately and it really sucks :( i hope you have a nice day! :)

- 🍓

The Demon Bros Comforting You with Social Anxiety

A/N: Hello 🍓, apologies for making you wait a bit for this, my mental health has taken a dive but I'm dyeing my hair to look like Xiao from genshin impact tonight to try to cheer myself up lol. Sending you all the best vibes and if you need to talk or anything ever you know where to find me ♥

SEE MORE: comforting MC from a nightmare , acting like your big brother , helping MC on a traumaversary

I also feel it'd be very similar to how they react when MC has asthma

Lucifer

• Surprisingly, he has a bit of social anxiety himself

• This makes it much easier for you to talk to him about certain situations that make you uneasy

• Whatever you need, a hand to hold or an excuse to leave early, he'll do it

• He's big on noticing little things about you, so he studies your breathing and learns your habits. If he notices you start to breathe heavier or breaths getting shallow? You're outta there. He's holding your hands in his and taking deep breaths with you

Mammon

• Will do whatever you ask of him to help you feel better

• Sometimes he even takes things into his own hands, if he notices you fidgeting more than usual

• Just wants you to be okay, whatever that means

• Will buy you LOADS of fidget toys / jewelry / etc to help you

Leviathan

• Definitely has social anxiety as well

• The two of you work together, only going to the events you had to and the occasional one you wanted to

• When there would be a dance or event put on by Diavolo, the two of you would devise a plan to check in with each other and make sure you were feeling okay

• Lucifer knew Levi sometimes had panic attacks too, so if either of you needed to step away for a minute he understood, which definitely helped

Satan

• Bitch if you don't take care of yourself 😤😡👊

• No matter how tall, heavy, or hesitant you are, he will pick your ass up and bring you to your safe space if you need it

• Sits you down, wraps you in a blanket (or his arms), and kneels in front of you

• Takes you through breathing exercises he's found most useful and stays with you as long as you need

Asmodeus

• My initial thought was that he'd draw you a warm bath and surround you in warmth until you felt better

• Which he'd definitely do post the event, but during the time when you were out and about he'd have a plan too

• He'd take your hand in his, letting you squeeze as hard as you could to release some of your anxiety

• A fantastic liar, too, so if you needed to leave he'd get you out of there immediately

Beelzebub

• The type to hug you just tight enough it calmed your shaking nerves

• He was never very physical with his brothers, but with you it's normal for him to walk over to you and wrap an arm around you

• So when you needed him to be there for you, his brothers didn't think twice (perfect because they can't make a big deal about you feeling anxious if they don't pick up on it)

• His brothers don't really argue with him much either, so if he walks up and says he wants some MC time, sure they'll complain a bit, but won't put up a fight

Belphegor

• Your mutual love for naps was lovely

• He'd say he wanted a nap, and wanted you to take it with him

• Who's gonna say no to that?

• He also holds your hand when needed, and whispers words of affirmation in your ears

• Will trace little patterns on your hand when you need something external to focus on

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

3K notes · View notes

egcdeath · 3 years

Text

ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it.

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down.

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by.

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin.

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home.

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out.

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself.

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry.

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss.

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends.

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve.

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on.

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine.

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument.

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face.

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in.

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand.

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer.

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him.

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment.

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room.

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you.

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you.

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you.

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace.

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material.

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry.

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth.

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle.

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose.

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony.

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise.

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say.

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change.

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love.

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt.

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious.

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him.

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether.

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back.

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly.

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly.

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested.

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same?

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far.

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so.

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick.

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it.

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note.

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning.

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment.

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness.

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face.

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom.

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep.

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard.

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work.

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier.

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break.

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen.

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window.

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks.

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you.

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool.

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.”

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket.

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Firestone - Steve Rogers smut

The one where Steve is your mobster boss and he’s been patiently waiting to make you his.

Warnings: smut, mob au, gunplay, dirty talk, public sex, possessiveness, oral sex (f)

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: thank you to my lovely @marziwritesfic for looking this over for me! I figured this would be perfect to help @cloudystevie celebrate 4k followers! Congrats, Jasmeen! You deserve many, many more!

“Can you bring me another one, princess?” She looked up to confirm what it was that I needed and nodded, quickly preparing my usual scotch on the rocks. I watched her with captivated eyes. She was such a hard worker, easily the best bartender I had ever employed.

But I had other reasons to like having her around.

“Care to join me for this one?” I asked after she deposited my drink in front of me. She chuckled and shook her head, used to my antics by now. We always did this, me and her, ever since she got hired to take care of the bar in one of my nightclubs. The one I started visiting much more frequently after she became my employee.

“You know I can’t.” But she laughed. I was making progress. Long were the days where she would look for any polite reason to get as far away from me as possible. Now she lingered, and I knew I was close to wearing her out.

I could wait.

“Are you sure? I know the owner!” Hearing her giggle was nothing short of extraordinary. I was always hypnotized whenever she was around, and with the way the clients seemed to drool for her, I knew I wasn’t the only one.

“You know, the second that you give me permission, I’m gonna ruin you, sweetheart.” I found myself admitting, staring hungrily at her wide eyes, following the wet trail her tongue left behind when she licked her bottom lip before questioning.

“For any other man?” The only reaction I could give to her innocence was a low chuckle, carefully watching my most desired prize for any signs of her own feelings.

“No. Just ruin you.” And as the words floated in the air around us, I got up from my booth, approaching her with calculated steps, eyes taking in every little reaction her body granted me.

“You won’t be able to walk or breathe without thinking about me, sugar,” I whispered in her ear once I was close enough to pull her by the back of her neck, her chest pressed tightly against mine, warning me of just how hard she was breathing.

“I’ll ravish you,” I continued, loving how her hands came up to grip my shirt, as if she needed to hold onto something. I’d be her anchor, I just needed her to let me in. “I’ll make you mine forever. I’ll leave you a perfect mess.”

“There won’t be other men.” Gripping her jaw, I turned her face aside so my next words were directly over her ear, lips brushing it and breath eliciting goosebumps when I said, “Ever.”

I pulled away from her to check on her expression, taking in her dilated pupils, the way she was breathing through her mouth. Part of me wanted to chuckle, thinking back on all the times she kept herself at a “professional” distance only to end up here, right where I wanted her to be.

“I know you don’t want to give in to me because I’m dangerous…” I acknowledged, softly cradling her face so I could run my thumbs over her cheekbones. “… but I think you want me precisely because of that.”

The shiver down her spine upon seeing my smirk told me everything I needed to know. So now all I had to do was wait for her to break.

“I know you like what you see,” I teased, a cocky smile on my lips now. “But you’re scared of wanting me.” Her gaze was fixed on me, eyes and body unmoving as nothing on her fought my affirmations. “Let me show you why you shouldn’t.” Slowly, I turned her around to face the table I was in, my hands softly pushing her down against it.

“Lean over the table,” I croaked, voice denouncing my desire. “Yeah, just like that.” My fingers ran down her back until I reached the edge of her jeans, easily wrapping my arms around her to open it and pull the offending fabric down her legs.

She jolted then, suddenly reminded of where we were, but I pushed her down gently, shushing her concerns. “Now, no need to worry about them,” I grinned, loving how she easily gave in to me now. “They know better than to look at what’s mine, huh?”

She looked over her shoulder as my words reached her, but I could only wink. “Besides,” I added, kneeling behind her while spreading her legs to welcome me. “I’ve been dreaming about this for way too long.”

Her underwear was easily discarded with a flick of my wrist, and then her pussy was exposed for my eyes to take, after so long dreaming about its taste. I moaned when I actually dragged my tongue between her lower lips, savoring this moment and her juices, knowing this would forever be imprinted in my mind.

“You have no idea how many times I got off to the thought of you,” I commented, humming against her cunt as she trembled beneath me. Her body awakened a hunger inside of me I’d never felt before, and I don’t think it would ever be satiated.

“You’ve seen me leave the bar with many women…” I chatted almost casually once I was able to let go of her pussy to run my knuckles over her wetness. “I want you to know I’ve always imagined it was you I was fucking, whenever I made them cum.”

Her moan resonated through the nearly empty bar, making me smile as I went back to licking her up. But as much as I wanted to keep on lapping the wetness that was starting to seep from her, I knew I had promised her something.

I had to show her why she shouldn’t be scared of me.

So I got up from behind her, paying no attention to her whines and the jut of her hips, licking my lips to gather every single drop of her taste as I got my gun from my holster. I had plans for her.

“Stay still, sugar…” I rubbed the barrel of the gun between her dripping wet lips, getting it soaked on her essence. “Let them see how well you take it. She hissed as the gun made its way inside of her, but to her point, she didn’t complain. Instead, her body slumped against the table, as if she was truly succumbing all of her to me.

The thought had me even harder, desperate to get her to cum so I could take her back to my place and have my way with her. ”Oh, you look so pretty, princess…” I almost moaned, fascinated by the sight of her tight pussy hungrily engulfing my favorite gun. “Can’t imagine how you’ll look when it’s my cock inside of you…”

“Mr. Rogers…” She whimpered, making me chuckle lightly.

“Call me Steve, sweetheart,” I was quick to address. “I got my best pistol inside of you, I think we’re past the use of titles, huh?” A loud whine escaped her then, like the acknowledgment made her even hornier, and I licked my lips at how her juices slowly dripped from her pussy down her thighs.

“C’mon, sugar. Let go for me, won’t you?” And like the perfect girl that she was, my order had her body convulsing before my eyes, her high arriving just as I thought I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from fucking her right then and there for any longer.

“You’re coming to my place tonight,” I announced, pulling my gun from her only to admire the way it now glistened, covered in her juices. My tongue stuck out almost automatically, and I licked some of her off of it, relishing in the sweet nectar I was slowly starting to ingrain in my own being.

“Still think I’d ever hurt you?” The smirk on my face was almost cocky, I knew, but I was too excited about finally having her to care. Pulling her body up, I held it against me once more, so she’d feel exactly how much I desired her, right against her back.

It was all her fault anyway.

“Go get your stuff,” I instructed. “No need to work here anymore, I’ll take care of you from now on.” And then I turned her around to look her in the eyes, cradling her face with glee at finally holding what I’d wanted for so long.

“Can’t wait to fuck you.”

#cs4kwritingchallenge #my fics #tw gunplay #mob au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #smut #steve rogers reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers reader inserts #steve rogers fanfiction

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHT || BOREDOM

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda + aoi todo + zenin mai + miwa kasumi + gakuganji yoshinobu (mentions of itadori yuji + ieiri shoko) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 02 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 5.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : assault

↳ next episode : small fry and reverse retribution

↳ barista’s notes : hi there everyone! right now i know i haven’t been the most active i have been but i really thankful on how patient you all are ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ�� my procrastination has reach a new all time high since my birthday is on saturday and i am dreading becoming 18 because that means i will be a legal adult and i also have exams soon...ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ moving on from that, i hope you all enjoys today’s episode!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

but the little flick that Y/N does is inspired from this video here

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“You really need to stop with your assaults Gojo,” Fushiguro stated, as he pressed his index and middle finger on the middle of his forehead, as he remembered the pain that came along with your flick as well as complaining about the side head slap he had gained from you.

“Nah, you just got to stop asking stupid questions Fushiguro,” you commented back before asking Kugisaki want she was planning to get.

‘So make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

‘I’m trying mother,’ you thought, as you tightly gripped your phone that was still in your pocket.

ꕥ

“I never really thought you were the type that would go to the beach,” you commented, as you leisurely walked towards the calm ocean with a pair of arms wrapped around yours (that was holding your shoes) since your mother wanted to walk side by side with you to enjoy this tranquil moment together.

“I never thought that about myself either, but it’s better to be surprised then going back to the city again, is it not?” your mother asked with a let out a gentle laugh before instantly halting the moment you both felt the warm water covering your bare feet.

“I guess so,” you stated before using your other arm to partly cover your face due to the sunlight brightly blinding your eyes. However, it seemed like where your mother was standing wasn’t causing her too much irritation - maybe it wasn't as bright from where she was.

Currently, it was sunset at Tatadohama beach - to which surprised you that there weren’t as many people as you thought - where your mother had taken you since she thought you both deserved a bit of a break before you could go back to school since it was the summer break and to be honest, you needed it since you and your mother just came back from a job of exorcising a grade-one curse while trying to escape the scene before any other jujutsu sorcerers came.

“You look beautiful though, your mother has good taste doesn’t she?” your mother teasingly asked in a rhetorical manner, as she took her time to observe you rather than the sunset that was in front of her. Right now, you were some simple jean shorts that were somewhat quite large letting the gentle breeze cool you down leading you to fasten a black belt with a silver buckle which tucked in a simple short-sleeved oversized white button-up shirt that was loose, so you wouldn’t feel tight around your upper body as well as dressing for the warm weather that was approaching.

“It is quite plain, but it’s simple and cute,” you commented, as you peered down at your mother’s clothing choices before looking back up to view the beautiful setting in front of you, as your mother smiled gently before placing her head on your shoulder.

“Promise me that you’ll be okay,” your mother suddenly uttered quietly, leading you to give off a confused look before turning your head down slightly only to discover a small smile on her face with softened eyes as if she was relishing the moment with you.

“You’re acting like you're going to die tomorrow,” you comedically commented, leading your mother to laugh at your statement which caused you to giggle slightly since your mother’s laugh was always contagious when you were with her. Taking a deep breath in to calm down, your mother slowly calmed down before lifting her head up as she sighed.

“Well, anything can happen and I want your word that you will do anything to be safe,” your mother expanded on her previous statement, causing you to turn to her to look at her in the eye, trying to see and understand what your mother really wanted you to know before you nodded at her with a small smile.

“I promise mother”

ꕥ

“Oi Y/N, wake up”

Slowly opening your eyes, you slowly blinks a few times as you try to get a clearer view from what you were looking at before steadily realising that you were at the track field where you were training with the rest of the students.

Shifting your eyes to look up slightly, only to discover all the upperclassmen looking down at you with the tree leaves covering you from the sunlight that was beaming down right now.

‘Oh...that’s right, I’m at Jujutsu Tech’

“Sorry for making you fight with all of us, I bet you were exhausted, but we need you to check up on Megumi and Nobara since they went to do some errands,” Panda expressed with hands pressed together as a sign of forgiveness.

“Kelp,” Inumaki commented as if affirming Panda’s statement leading you to sit up slowly before stretching your arms to get read of the stiffness that was consuming them before taking in Zenin’s outstretched arm to help you up - something you both been doing for quite some time during the week - before picking up the black track top of brought out for today’s training that you were laying on top of.

“Sorry for sleeping, where are they?” you asked, as you covered your mouth to yawn since you didn’t want to seem rude to your second-year seniors.

“They should be getting a few drinks for themselves and us from the vending machines, they didn’t want to wake you up, but we knew they probably need some help remembering what we want,” Zenin answered, as she used her thumb to point behind her the direction you needed to take.

“Sorry, I’ll get going then,” you commented before tying the track top around your waist before picking up your black katana since you didn’t want to leave it alone before waving at them when you were beginning to head off.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you mentioned before Inuamki shouted ‘Salmon’ back at you before you swiftly made your way up the stone steps to find both your classmates Fushiguro and Kugisaki to get the drinks that the other wanted since you knew that they’ll probably both forget or take too long for your senior’s liking.

“I’m surprised she can still run after all those practice matches,” Panda stated, as he continued to stare at the direction that you headed out in.

“She’s strong, there is no surprise Gojo has taken her into his family and out of training to take some missions,” Zenin commented before continuing with, “she comes back really quickly to resume training with us,”.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki mentioned, as he nodded at his classmate’s remark about you before all of the second years went off for their walk, as they gave you time to run your errands before coming back to the field to train for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event.

ꕥ

Looking at her drinks in front of her, Kugisaki was disappointed at the lack of variety that the machines had as she groaned in annoyance before pressing her choice of the cold drink she wanted before checking to make sure there was orange juice in the vending machine since she knew you would want some when she got back to you.

“Couldn’t they put in a few more vending machines?” Kugisaki asked in an irritated tone, as she bent down to collect her drink from the takeout port before turning around to look at her classmate, who was standing behind her.

“They can’t. There are only so many workers who can come in here,” Fushiguro answered, as he turned to look at her only for the female to turn back around to place more money into the coin slot. “What else are you buying?” Fushiguro asked since he knew that Kugisaki as well as himself didn’t know what the upperclassmen wanted - that was usually your job.

“Gojo really likes orange juice, so I wanted to buy her some since she did train with all of us, I bet she’s still sleeping,” Kugisaki commented before contemplating if you wanted to bottle or carton version of the citrus juice since she didn’t know if you always bought the carton one on purpose.

However, before she could come to the conclusion on what you probably wanted, she noticed from the corner of her eye that there were two people standing at the other side of the outdoor hallway they were at. From what she can observe, it seemed like those two people were from Jujutsu Tech due to their uniforms as the male had what seemed to be an angry expression while the other student - who looked similar to Zenin Maki - had a sly smile on her face.

“What are you doing here, Zenin-senpai?” Fushiguro asked in confusion since he wasn’t expecting anyone from Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College to come to their side.

“Oh, she’s one, too?” Kugisaki queried while turning her head to look at Fushiguro before continuing with, “They do seem similar, are they sisters?” as she turned back to look at the female student to get a closer look at her.

“They’re twins,” Fushiguro answered quickly.

“Don’t call me that, Fushiguro-kun. You make me sound the same as Maki, call me Mai,” Mai stated, as she gave the two Tokyo students a wink.

“So there are the pinch hitters for Okkotsu and the third-years?” the male student stated with a hostile tone while glaring at them with a look of pure disappointment.

“We came here with the principal because we were worried about you. Your classmate died, right? Was that rough? Or did you think nothing of it?” Mai asked with the smirk still painted on her face, leading Fushiguro and Kugisaki to tense at her sudden but somewhat offensive questions.

“What are you trying to say?” Fushiguro asked tensely, as he suddenly felt a slight bit of annoyance building up in his stomach.

“It’s okay, some things are hard to say out loud, so I’ll say it for you,” Mai amusingly stated before proceeding, “‘Vessel’ makes it sound nice, but it means he was a half-curse monster. Having such a tainted, inhuman being beside you brazenly calling himself a jujutsu sorcerer must have been revolting right? Aren’t you feeling better now that he’s dead?”. However, her questions only lead to extremely vexed expressions appearing on both of the Tyoko student’s faces.

“Mai, don’t bring up such pointless topics, I’m only here to see if these guys are fit to take Okkotsu’s place, that’s all I want to know,” the large male declared as he took a few steps forwards before throwing his school jacket to the side, leading to the shikigami sorcerer to tense up once again as he began to worry what was about to happen.

“Fushiguro, was it?” the large male asked before shouting in a proud manner…

“What kind of woman is your type?”

Suddenly perplexed, Fushiguro as well as Kugisaki, shifted their heads to the side simultaneously to convey their unexpected confusion to the two Tokyo students especially to the male that had just asked the weird as well as absurd question.

“Depending on your answer, I’ll beat you half to death right here and drag Okkotsu, or at least the third-years, out to the exchange event,” the large Kyoto student threatened as he processed to unexpectedly and violently ripped his purple shirt into shreds, showcasing his large muscular upper body before positioning himself in his usual fighting stance as he then suddenly announced, “by the way, my type is a tall woman with a big ass!”.

“Why do I have to talk about my taste in women with a guy I just met?” Fushiguro annoyingly asked as he began to express an irritated expression on his face at the Kyoto student that suddenly declared a fight out of nowhere.

“He’s right. That’s a tall hurdle for an antisocial guy,” Kugisaki unintentionally comedically commented, as she pointed at her stoic classmate, leading Fushiguro to express a more vexed expression.

“You be quiet. This is confusing enough already. You’ll just make it more complicated,” Fushiguro mentioned as an irked mark became more visible on his right cheek, displaying his displeasure on what was happening right now.

“Kyoto, third-year, Todo Aoi,” the Kyoto Tech sorcerer introduced himself. “Introduction over,” Todo announced as he then continued by saying, “now we’re friends. Hurry up and answer, if you prefer men, that’s fine too,”.

“A person’s fetishes reflect everything about them,” Todo explained, indicating the reason why he was asking his laughable question in the first place. “People with boring taste in women are boring people themselves,” Todo passionately proclaimed, as if he was presenting a speech to the whole of Japan at this moment in time before he exclaimed, “I hate boring men.”

“And I hate drags like you”

Turning his head slightly to view what was going on behind him, Todo managed to get a glimpse of a person that was right behind his school mate. A female standing with her hands in her pockets with what seemed to be a katana hanging horizontally unlike Okkotsu, who had his vertically, with a nonchalant expression painted on her face.

“Also your drag ass friend, she has quite a big mouth for a Grade three sorcerer from what I can sense, is this what I’m really fighting against Fushiguro?” you asked before you started to walk past the other sorcerer as you made your way to the vending machine to grab the drinks that the second-years usually requested when they made you run errands during a break from training.

“Gojo! You’re awake?” Kugisaki asked as she smiled at you before quickly mentioning there was money already in the machine since she was planning to get you your drink.

“You heard everything?” Fushiguro questioned as he turned his view to you, only to discover you pressing on the button that correlated to the carton of orange juice as you mentioned to Kugisaki that you were going to pay her back before turning your head to look at your other classmate.

“Yeah, I heard everything. You guys are loud and to be honest, both of them need to shut up, they’re such drags,” you muttered disrespectfully since you could tell they were at least a year or two years above you in the academic year.

However, it seemed like your insult didn’t stop Todo from explaining his passion for people’s preferences in a partner as he continued to declare his speech with pride, much to your complete dismay.

“As I was saying, the exchange event is where my soul can be free as blood boils and flesh clashes, who knows what I might do if my last exchange event ends up boring me?” Todo rhetorically questioned as he maintained his fighting stance as if he was ready to pounce within a second with a confident smile on his face.

‘Shut up...I have to meet with Gojo-sensei later and I don’t want a massive headache to come in before it becomes worse when I see him’

“Hey, aren’t the Jujutsu Tech schools four-year schools?” Kugisaki asked in an unsure manner as she turned to look at Fushiguro since she was trying to take note from you on what drinks to buy in case you weren’t able to for the seniors. However, she was confused about why Todo mentioned that this was going to be his last exchange event when he was a thrid-year.

“Only third-years and under can join the exchange event,” Fushiguro quickly answered Kugisaki’s question as she then let out an understandable ‘Hmm’ to inform her classmate that she acknowledged what he had just told her before swiftly turning back to notice that you had brought a cold water bottle for what seemed to be for Zenin (Maki) since you and her were looking at your phone to see a note displayed on the screen.

“As a show of kindness, I’ll let you off only half-dead right now,” Todo threatened again before repeating the weird question that instinctively started this whole situation, “answer me, Fushiguro. What kind of woman is your type?”

“Is this some kind of comedy routine?” the shikigami user angrily asked, as he increasingly got annoyed at what was happening right now and was confused on why he was picked in the first place.

“Don’t get into a fight, I seriously can’t be bothered to use any reverse cursed technique to heal your wounds if you do and we need to get back to training soon,” you stated before pressing on the last button for the last drink that was needed to be given for Inumaki when you get back.

However, it seemed as if both of your classmates didn’t listen to you since Kugisaki was now observing the other student behind Todo due to her uniform. “Is that your summer uniform?” Kugisaki asked in a light tone, as she admired the outfit before continuing with “ticks me off, but it’s nice”.

“Are you both even listening?” you muttered in annoyance before grabbing the small bag - that you kept from the time you went to your mother’s grave - in the pocket of your nylon cargo pants to place the drinks after you had got them from the dispenser since you didn't want to struggle to carry them.

Looking to his side, Fushiguro looked at his classmate as he began to analyse the situation that was currently going on. From what he could gather, Kugisaki was unarmed and didn’t have her usual hammer with her like she normally did meaning he was wanting to avoid any confrontation that could happen at this moment in time, while you were armed with your usual katana, yet he didn’t want to risk you revealing your true identity to the Kyoto students - not like he really had to worry about that.

‘Not forgiving people isn’t a bad thing. That’s just part of your kindness, isn’t it?’

That’s what his sister said to him once.

“I don’t have a particular preference, as long as she has unshakeable character, I won’t ask for more,” Fushiguro answered, to which you were surprised since you predicted that he wasn’t the type to reveal that sort of information. On the other hand, it seemed like Mai was pleased with the answer as she smiled sweetly at the boy causing you to shudder.

‘Ain’t...they like….family…?’

“Not a bad answer, if you had said something like ‘big boobs,’ I’d have killed you,” Kugisaki mentioned with a please expression on her face since she was relieved at the fact Fushiguro wasn’t suggestive like the Kyoto student in front of you three right now.

“Shut up,” Fushiguro muttered in an irritated tone.

However, it seemed like not everyone was pleased with his answer, as a tear was shed on a cheek.

“I knew it...You’re boring, Fushiguro,” Todo stated in a depressed manner before swiftly pushing himself to swing Fushiguro violently outside the hallway you were standing.

“DIDN’T I SAY NOT TO GET INTO FIGHTS, YOU DRAG?!” you screamed, as you turned your head to the direction where Fushiguro was struck away.

“FUSHIGURO!” Kugisaki panicked as she began to rush to his aid before a pair of arms was wrapped around her to halt her movement.

“Poor Fushiguro-kun, even a talented second-grade jujutsu sorcerer is nothing more than a first-year against the top-grade Todo-senpai, I’ll have to comfort him later,” Mai expressed with a sickly-sweet tone. However, you already had something to say.

“That may be true, but your Todo-senpai is nothing against a special-grade,” you mentioned with a smirk on your face, causing the female sorcerer to look towards you with widened eyes before suddenly remembering what Kugisaki called you by.

“Gojo…” Mai stuttered.

“Gojo, I’m okay! Just make sure Fushiguro is,” Kugisaki said to you with a proud smile on her face, causing you to drop the bag that you had in hand before quickly untying the red charm that was at the end of your katana.

‘I don’t need to unsheathe my katana, but I can’t use any of my curse spells to restrain him, so the chain will have to do’

“Hold this for me!” you shouted as you swiftly tossed the charm in her direction to which she caught easily since her arms still had movement before you rushed towards the scene where Fushiguro and Todo was.

‘This is such a drag right now…’ you thought, as you made it outside to find Fushiguro kneeling on the ground with a few new scratches on his face as well as his now stained blue track. However, it seemed as if Todo wasn’t done with his first attack since he was talking towards the Tokyo student like he was his prey.

On the other hand, you didn’t seem to care as you looked at him with an annoyed expression - even though you knew it wasn’t his fault. “Didn’t I say not to get into any fights? I can’t be bothered to use any reversed cursed techniques right now and I don’t want to bother Shoko-san since I need to train with her to know how to use it properly!” you raged, yet once again, it seemed like both of the male sorcerer’s weren’t listening to you.

“I knew at first glance that you were a boring guy, but you shouldn’t judge a person by their looks, right?” Todo questioned rhetorically again, causing the flames of rage to increase inside your soul since this situation was getting a little too similar to the one back at the detention centre.

“So I went out of my way to ask you, but you just trampled on my kindness,” Todo whined with a pout on his face while wiping the dripping tears that continued to fall.

“Is your brain as pineapple as your head?” Fushiguro insulted, as he gave the senior a weirded-out look.

“You’re the one to talk, hedgehog!” you screamed in annoyance since you were getting frustrated at the fact that no one was listening to you.

“I heard you don’t use cursed techniques.” Fushiguro randomly mentioned as he got up on his feet causing you to look at him with a death glare as well as suddenly being curious about what he meant by ‘don’t use cursed techniques’.

“Huh? Oh, that’s rumour’s false, I used them against the special-grade,” Todo plainly stated like it was an everyday face before raising his arm to wave his hand side to side as if to ‘slap’ away the rumours that were going on about him before continuing with, “but I heard rumours going around about a girl that went toe-to-toe with Sukuna, she was fighting with you right? Where is she?”

‘MAYBE THE GIRL THAT IS BEHIND YOU, SHOUTING AT YOU DRAGS!’

“That’s a relief to hear!” Fushiguro declared as if he was confident, causing you to look at him enraged with fury.

“THAT IS NOT A RELIEF TO HEAR, YOU DRAG!” you screamed, as you were now handing on an extremely thin piece of thread that was going to snap any second, leading you to attack both of them if this got out of hand.

However, once again, Fushiguro and Todo didn’t listen to you for one second as the shikigami sorcerer began to signal his shikigami to appear with the familiar hand-sign of ‘Nue’ back with you fought with him against Sukuna and ‘Gama’ from when you were training with him - yet, you were completely perplexed on what he had combined when both together.

Suddenly, a familiar shadow began to swiftly emerge from the ground before it suddenly took form into something you didn’t really expect from the Ten-Shadow Technique sorcerer.

“Frogs with wings?” you muttered, as you stared at the sight in complete surprise since you didn’t expect to see a few frogs with wings appearing in front of you - you never thought you see something like this in your life, to be honest.

“Bottomless Well!” Fushiguro chanted before a few of the frogs croaked in response causing you to stare that the creature in a now unreadable expression.

‘They will be weaker than their counterpart shikigami but they do have many benefits....didn’t Gojo-sensei mention something about the Kamo’s family?’

On the other hand, it seemed like your future opponent in the exchange event didn’t seem so nervous about the technique. Of course, from what you remembered from training as well as some knowledge that you had gained just from seeing one movement from Todo, you had come to the conclusion that he was a close-range fighter, probably had some experience with weapons since it would be foolish if a fighter didn’t have any sense it was a risk of them just having knowledge with their hands.

However, before you could even continue to gain more knowledge just by looking at the back of the well muscular sorcerer, there was a quick shift in the air causing you to snap out of your trance only to find Todo behind suddenly behind Fushiguro as he processed to wrap his arms around your classmate’s waist.

“Flimsy and shallow...Both your body and your taste in women!” Todo shouted before lifting Fushiguro upwards like he weighed nothing before aggressively smashing his headfirst into the ground behind him, causing you to discover how flexible the Kyoto student was before he suddenly jumped up into the air to give his opponent a punch, only for Fushiguro to dodge just in time, yet that didn’t seem to last since the second he moved away to gain some distance, he was violently smacked with a fist.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted, before quickly forcing the soles of your sheet to push your body forward to an extreme length, just in time to get in between both of the male sorcerers that were fully ignoring you since the moment you entered into the conversation to grab the drinks.

“Gojo!” Fushiguro yelled out in a panic since he was extremely worried that you were now taking a hit for him.

However, it seemed like Todo was now suddenly the one that was worried since his incoming punch seemed to hit something really small since it didn’t cover all his knuckles, yet it didn’t break like he thought it would, causing him to let the debris slowly clear away as his eyes began to notice the sight of a sleek black wooden scabbard standing vertically from the ground halting his extremely large fist, while you were kneeling down behind it, holding the handle with an extremely displeased look on your face with Fushiguro behind you as your other hand had a grip on the collar of his blue track jacket.

“You know Fushiguro, you are full of surprises but a complete drag when it comes to not listening to me,” you muttered, before slowly letting go of his collar as your turned your now free hand to face Kyoto Student in front of you, who was looking down at you with a shocked expression on his face.

“Todo Aoi right? You see, Gojo-sensei asked me to meet up with him and I don’t want a headache since I know he’s gonna give me one later, so I’ll see you later okay?” you sinisterly stated, before opening your palm to him as you slowly bend your middle finger towards you while placing your thumb on top of it, right on the nail.

“That looks like a nice construction sight,” you nonchalantly mentioned as you looked up at the wooden structure behind you before speedily flicking out your middle finger, causing Todo’s body to suddenly be pushed back with an extremely large force of cursed energy leading to the wooden panels to instantly break once his body made contact before you assumed his body landed on the wooden flooring that was above since you couldn’t see him anymore.

“Gojo…” Fushiguro muttered in shock as he didn’t expect something like that to happen before he noticed the same hand that flicked his opponent away was coming towards him with the same gesture.

Flicking his forehead gently, you turned to look at him with a straight face before you used the same palm to let your cursed energy become slowly positive with some concentration to heal his wound that was on his head.

“It’s not much since I haven’t perfected it yet, but it will deal with the blood loss before you go to Shoko-san, you drag” you commented before sighing.

‘There was no need for me to remove the charm after all, but that’s enough for me to gain information for the event’

“Megumi! Y/N!” someone shouted, causing you both to look up only to find your second-year seniors Inumaki and Panda looking down below you to where you remembered flicking Todo towards, leading you to assume that they went to where there was the most ruckus was happening. However, next to Panda was Todo, who smirked down at the sight of both of you below.

“Fushiguro, let’s train our hardest okay?” you muttered, so only your classmate could hear, leading him to look at your with confused eyes before you turned to him with a smile, “you’re really strong, but I know you and Kugisaki can get stronger, so just follow me when I need you to okay?” you asked, before standing up on your feet once you managed to stop the blood loss from Fushiguro’s head.

“Panda-senpai! Inumaki-senpai! Can you take Fushiguro to Shoko-san, Gojo-sensei said he needs me for a discussion, I assume Maki-san is with Kugisaki!” you yell out.

“Salmon!” Inuamki shouted back before all of the three sorcerers were out of your sights, causing you to turn back to Fushiguro before giving your hand to him to help himself up.

‘Grade-one Todo Aoi and grade-three Zenin Mai ha?’

ꕥ

“Ah Y/N, my daughter there you are!” Gojo cheered in delight once he saw you on the other side of the sliding door before you decided to step in since it was left open, to who you assumed was your adoptive dad that opened it earlier for his own reason.

“Excuse me,” you muttered before taking a quick glance around the room before noticing that there were only two more people with you and Gojo right now. From a side glance, you noticed a girl, probably the same age as you or maybe a year older at the latest, with long blue hair with a slightly slanted fridge wearing a suit that seemed to suit her really well even if her youthful and adorable face.

‘A semi grade two? No..maybe three like Mai…’

However, as your eyes shifted to the sight on the opposite side where Gojo was seated, there was an old man seated while holding onto a wooden cane, who seemed to be somewhere in his late 80s but you wouldn’t tell since he seemed too hollow for you liking, yet something about him gave you an off-putting feeling.

“I wanted to tell you about the two special-grade curses that attacked me the other day,” Gojo happily mentioned with a smile on his face, causing you to look at him with a confused expression since he seemed too happy for someone that got attacked.

“Why do you look so happy? That should be the opposite reaction Gojo-sensei,” you remarked, as you made your way towards him only for his response to be a little pout.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me your dad,” Gojo childishly whined.

“Never,” you shut down his offer as quickly as you could before uttering him to tell you about the special curses he wanted to inform you about, only for him to suddenly pull out a piece of paper with two childish drawings on them, causing you to look at the art in a fed-up manner before snatching it off his hand to get a closer look at the curses that he masterfully drew.

“As I said before, the two cursed spirits were capable of communication and they probably have allies who are just as strong,” Gojo declared in a serious manner, causing you to shiver at the 180-degree personality turn that he had done right in front of you.

“It’s not just our enemies, either. Hakari, Okkotsu, your Todo and now my daughter Gojo. The level of our students has risen drastically in recent years, as well,” Gojo stated as he stared at the old man before he processed with, “then there was last year’s incident with Geto Suguru and now, the appearance of Sukuna’s vessel,”.

“What are you trying to say?” the old man asked, as he looked at your adoptive father with an expressionless look on his face (not that you could ever tell if there was any expression in the first place).

“Hehe, you don’t know? The wave of power you guys have been trying to hold back with your pointless status and traditions has grown bigger than you can handle and is now descending upon us. You won’t be able to measure the coming age with the classification of ‘special grade’ if you think I’m the only one who’ll be fighting back, you’re going to get hurt, old man,” Gojo declared with a smirk on his face as he felt the presence of the realisation that was coming to you now.

‘That man...was the reason why…..Itadori….’

“I think you are getting a bit out of line,” the old man lightly threatened in a lower tone as he glared at the sorcerer in front of him.

“I think it’s you that’s getting out of line,” you muttered in vexation as you glared down hostility at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table as the paper that you were holding began to crumble in your grasp. “If you get to kill someone by using me as a tool, let me return the favour next time with your head,” you threatened in a spiteful manner causing the old man to look at you with the same hollow eyes as he did with Gojo.

“Oh! Scary! Well, that's all I wanted to say, I’ll be going now with my daughter,” Gojo mentioned, as he got up from his seat before placing his hands on each of your upper arms to push you towards the direction of the door, before guiding himself through that gap that was left open.

“Oh, Principal Yaga will be coming in about two hours. Later!” Gojo departed cheekily, before closing the door as he then guided you away from the room the higher-up was in since he knew you were in a state of shock at the discovery you had made about your deceased classmate: Itadori Yuji.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

‘Mother….’

925 notes · View notes

thetaleoflevi · 3 years

Text

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Distance

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Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Content Type: SFW

TW: Season 3 spoiler, Blood, Profanity, Suicide (For a split second), Suggestive

Description: Reader distances herself from Levi, strongly believing her feelings are not reciprocated by him, causing Levi to miss her.

Word Count: 5.3k+

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Please go away, Captain. Or at least end me. I don’t like the way you make me feel when you’re around. I can’t breathe. Please stop walking my way. Stop looking at me with those eyes.

“Y/N, I need that paperwork on my desk by five o’clock today. Not a minute late, understood?” What are you even saying? Stop looking at me like that. His brows creased with impatience at your nonexistent response. “Hey, focus, brat.” He snapped his fingers at you, making you flinch out of your daze. “Yes, Captain! Right away.” You saluted messily and paced toward the door, returning when you figured out that you didn’t know what you were ordered to do.

“What are you agreeing to, brat?” God…that delicious word was cracking your last bits of sanity. “Repeat what I ordered you to do.” Levi demanded, not having moved an inch from where he was standing. He crossed his arms in annoyance. “Um, y-you… You said to-” “I told you to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on.” Your eyes widened, and you felt as if all the air in your lungs got punched out of you. So this was your end. This is how you die? Your Captain found your expression to be almost as funny as a shit joke. He didn’t show it on the surface, though.

“Relax, idiot. I was kidding. I want you to finish the paperwork I gave you earlier and hand it in to me by five. Pay attention, or next time it won’t be a joke.” He walked toward the door of the meeting room and turned to face you you when he heard you yelling your affirmation like an annoying parrot. “Yes, Captain! It won’t happen again!” You gave him your best salute only to have eyes rolled at you.

Levi left the room not having a clue that you almost threw up in front of him. You felt that stupid after the situation. Usually, you always felt like the rest of the world went pitch black, with only a spotlight shining on you and him, whenever he talked to you. Even when he scolded you for not doing something to his liking, you couldn’t help but focus on his devastatingly gorgeous silver eyes and how they squinted occasionally in fury, or his lips that never seemed to curve upwards and spat the ugliest words at you sometimes. It was tough love. At least that’s what you made of it.

“What happened in here? Did somebody spike the Captain’s tea? I’m very concerned.” Armin had walked into the meeting room where you stayed, replaying the conversation you just had with your handsome superior. “What are you talking about, Armin?” You ask curiously, having just seen the man acting as unfazed as always. “He smiled, Y/N. He genuinely smiled.”

You were in just as much shock as Armin was. He smiled? And I missed it?! “What were you guys talking about?” Armin sat in one of the chairs next to you. His crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, wondering what was so great that it could cause the most solemn man in the scouts to crack a smile. “I zoned out while he was giving me an order, and then he told me to kill myself—not in those exact words, but, he told me to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on. I think I made a stupid face or something, but I really thought he was ordering me to die. Then he told me the actual order.”

Armin chuckled at your retelling of the story, knowing he would have reacted the same way as Levi. “Whatever it was that you did, keep doing it! We’ve only seen Captain Levi smile once, and it’s been forever since then. Historia was crowned queen when he last smiled in front of us.” You smirked dumbly and got off the desk you were sitting on. “I’ll try my best. I gotta go, Armin. I have some paperwork to get done before Captain Levi reigns even more hell down on earth.” Armin chuckles and waves a goodbye as you leave.

It was four forty-three, and you had barely gotten anything done. With all the time you were given, you took it upon yourself to leave your work until the last minute—the procrastinating prodigy that you are. You watched everyone do their work with no thought about your own. Four forty-eight. Four fifty. Four fifty-six. Four fifty-nine. Five o’clock.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean. “No, sir. She was sitting with Eren, Armin, and Mikasa when I last saw her.” Connie replied. Fucking hell, Y/N.

It was five thirty-two when you finally knocked on Levi’s door. “How nice of you to show up on time.” You heard directly inside your ear. You gasped with fear and quickly turned around. Your Captain did not look pleased at all. “Can you tell me what time it is?” You checked the clock on the wall. “Five thirty-three, sir.” Your eyes looked at everything but him. “Okay, good. Come on in.” He unlocked his office door and waited for you to walk in before slamming it shut.

You bounced slightly at the harsh sound. “You better have a damn good excuse for why my paperwork is thirty-three minutes late.” He slowly walked over to you and the stack of papers you held tightly to your chest. “Did you even do it correctly?” He snatched the stack away from you, a few papers nicking the area between your thumb and index finger. You were quick to suck on the area that bled. He looked over the work you had done, keeping the compliments he would have rewarded you with to himself. The brat is good. If only she worked faster.

“It’ll do. It’s not extraordinary work, but i’ll take it because it’s not the most important work that needed to be done.” You stopped sucking the blood from your hand and looked at him when he went silent. “Tch, use your words. Ask for a bandage or something.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a white roll of gauze.

“Let me see.” He unstuck the beginning of the roll and returned to his spot next to you. “I can do it, sir.” You reached your undamaged hand toward the roll he held, only for him to pull it away from you. “Let me see it.” He urged, waiting for you to show him the cuts. They were surprisingly deep. You put your hand palm-up in front of you, only for him to adjust the position so that he could wrap the material around your hand correctly. The white wrapping began to turn red when it touched the blots of blood emerging from your open skin. With every layer he wrapped, less color was seen until it was just white.

Warmth was emitted through his fingers which soothed the pain in your hand a little. He let you retract your hand, watching you as you stared at the dressed wounded area. “What? Do you want me to kiss it or something?” He looked at you with an ordinary uninterested expression. Yes, please! Kiss it better. “I-I mean-“ You managed to stutter. Your cheeks flushed with heat when you realized what you had started saying. “Stop that, brat. Just stop talking.”

He walked to his desk and continued to look over the work you had done. He silently admired your considerably neat handwriting. It was as if you had typed it—the letters being all equally sized, no streaks out of line. “Right. I’m sorry.” You whispered, walking in the direction of the door. His words hit harder than usual for some reason. It was nothing to be upset about, yet you felt an unwelcome lump start forming in your throat. Maybe it’s you finally realizing that your love for him would never be reciprocated. Just being in the same room as him in that moment had you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

You mustered up the small amount of stability you had in your voice and said,”Well, if you don’t need me to do anything else, I’ll be on my way.” “That will be all.” He mumbled, not looking at you. No thank you? You saluted and left the room.

Unlike times before, Levi didn’t make your heart soar, he made it sink to the pit of your stomach, despite him touching you more than he ever has. It made you question your reasons for loving him so much. Is he worth the confusion your heart goes through when talking to the different versions of him? You’re not sure.

—

Weeks went by with you treating Levi like he was anyone but the person you longed to be with before. You still gave him the respect he deserved as your Captain, but you only talked to him when he talked to you or when you needed to deliver something to him from another one of your superiors. When he ordered you to do something, you would simply give him an affirmation and walk away. No small talk or questions. You didn’t smile like you usually did for him, and your heart wasn’t beating erratically when you accepted the duties he assigned to you.

Levi caught on to this act of yours when he started missing the way your doe eyes lingered on his as he talked to you. Now you would barely look him in the eyes. He missed the way you would try to make him laugh with a joke that had you in pain from laughing so hard. Now you only talked to him about work-related matters. He missed the way you stuttered after saying something dumb. Your voice is so steady now, and your words are chosen more carefully. He missed the clear adoration you had for him. He missed you.

Another day passed, and Levi had no excuse to talk to you. He didn’t have orders to give you. At that moment, he would’ve done anything to go back to when he would scowl at you as you laughed to your heart’s content. He would do anything to see you for more than two minutes. He would have taken the boring job of completing a pile of paperwork if it meant you were the one giving it to him and he would be able to brush his fingers against yours.

His head rested in his hands, frustrated with his inability to stomp on his pride and just walk over to wherever you were. He missed you so, so much, but he would never let you know that you were the best part of his days.

A knock came from the other end of his door. “Name and business.” He stated with his head still in his hands. “Y/LN Y/N, sir.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and he raised his head, quickly fixing the strands of hair that had moved out of place. “Commander Erwin asked me to get your signature for an important document.” He walked over and opened the door for you. “Come in.”

You entered his office and stood in front of his desk until further instruction. He shut the door quietly and walked to where you were.

“You can set the document down on my desk. I need to get a new container of ink. I’ll be back shortly.” He went to his bedroom, which connected to his office, and went through a drawer that seemed to have different supplies in it. He returned with a clear glass cube filled with black ink. He sat in his chair and read the document quickly before scribbling a beautiful rendition of his name onto the blank line at the bottom of the page.

“Here.” He flipped the paper so that it was upright to you. “Thank you, Captain.” You took the document and saluted. As you were about to leave, Levi’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, can you sit for a minute?” He asked, hoping you weren’t in a rush to get those documents to Erwin.

“Of course, sir.” You answer, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He looked slightly sad. His eyes were completely softened, eyebrows curving inward slightly. “Why haven’t you come to see me as often as you used to?” All you could think was, does it really matter whether you see me or not? “I’ve been busy. I have duties entrusted to me by others. You are not my only superior, Captain Levi.” You were okay with giving him a piece of your mind in the most respectful way possible.

“I understand that, but why are you choosing to completely avoid me unless the subject is work?” Can you be anymore needy? “I’m not.” You simply respond. That is the ugliest lie you have ever told. You are avoiding him. You are keeping yourself busy to avoid even thinking about him.

“I see. I never took you for such a shitty liar.” You suppressed the need to roll your eyes. No answer will satisfy him until he hears what he wants to hear. “Well, i’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I’ll try not to make a habit of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander Erwin said that this document needed to be returned as soon as possible.” You stood up from the wooden chair and saluted before exiting your Captain’s office.

—

The sky went dark without you realizing. You were busy all day and after the talk you had with your Captain, you were both physically and mentally tired.

As you arrived to your bedroom, not caring for the darkness that veiled your room, you let yourself fall backwards onto your bed as exhaustion creeped through your body. With your eyes closed, you lifted each of your legs and removed your boots one by one before tossing them to the ground. “Why does he suddenly care about the amount of times he’s seen me throughout the day?” You whisper to yourself as if someone would hear you.

The sound of knocking fills your ears and you pretend to have fallen asleep. “Y/N, are you in there? Are you awake?” Not now. Please. You stay silent, hoping Levi will leave you alone.

Three more knocks sound against your door. After a few seconds of complete silence, you hear the doorknob turn and the door swings open, shutting after Levi steps inside the room. “Tch, you didn’t even take your straps off.” He whispers in consideration to your ‘sleeping’ state. He sits next to you on your bed and watches your chest mimic dormant breathing. He reaches for the strap that loops around your chest and undoes the small buckle. Your chest was released and moved more freely.

By now, your act of pretending to sleep was no longer an act. You were breathing in a set rhythm through your nose.

He softly and slowly pulled your arms out of the leather that enclosed around them. You stirred a little bit before returning to the position you were in previously, on your back.

“I’m going to take care of you, my Y/N. I don’t want your skin to bruise.” He whispered while he undid your belt buckle and lowered down to work on the bands that curled tightly around your thighs. He slowly slid the rest of the leather down your calves and off completely. He got off of your bed and organized your things neatly so that you would find them easily in the morning.

“Y/N.” Levi called, shaking you softly by your arm. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted, furrowing your brows when you noticed someone else was there with you. “What?” You grumble, annoyed at the inability to go back to sleep. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.” That voice. You tried to spring up off the bed to salute respectfully to your Captain.

He grabbed your forearms and brought you back down to your bed. “Calm down. You don’t have to be so formal after hours.” You weren’t even asleep ten minutes, yet the drowsiness embodying you was extreme.

“Do you want me to light a candle? It’s pretty dark in here. I wasn’t expecting you or anyone else to come see me this late.” “No. I think the dark will allow courage to seep through me better.” You raised a brow in confusion. “Courage? Since when do you lack courage, Captain-“ “Levi. Just Levi between us.” “Le..vi?” He nodded with reassurance. “Since when do you lack courage in anything, Levi.”

He put his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you tensed up against the contact. He didn’t pull his hand away at the gesture, though. “I hate having to admit that I have a weakness for you, believe me, but you’re invading my thoughts every day, all the time.” This isn’t like you, Captain.

“I’m not adjusting well to this change between us. I miss the way you used to be with me. Even when I didn’t reciprocate the energy you gave off, you always managed to make feel better inside. Now that you’ve distanced yourself from me, I feel even more dead inside than usual.” His fingers stroked the fabric on your shoulder of your white button-up shirt.

“I can’t be that way with you anymore. It took me a while to realize that we’re not here to make relationships that last forever. We have the hardest job anyone could ask of us—saving humanity.” You sighed, thinking of a way to prevent yourself from hurting his feelings. “Though the thought of having you by my side is delightful, I don’t think I can go back to worshiping the ground you walk on like I did before. Our relationship should remain that of superior and subordinate.”

Levi’s head lowered. The agony he was feeling in his chest was excruciating. This last attempt to get you was sadly his final one.

“Then I have one final request.” You couldn’t help but wonder what he would want from you that he can’t get from anyone else. “Can I kiss you?” His hand that was set on your shoulder slowly made it’s way to caress your cheek. His eyes softened at the familiar look in your eyes that peered into his soul. Though you felt you should have removed his hand from the side of your face, the warmth was comforting.

“If you don’t feel anything, I promise I’ll swallow my feelings for you and leave you be. We’ll be strictly comrades, no emotional feelings involved.” He swiped your soft skin with his thumb, eyes locking with yours as he seeks a response that isn’t developed yet.

Finally. “Only once.” You whisper. He nods in acknowledgement of your instruction. His left hand attaches to your waist while his right finds your cheek again. You tremble at the foreign feeling of someone’s touch on a part of you that wasn’t an arm, a shoulder, or your back. His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned in. God, he smelled so good. The aroma was dangerously attractive. You hoped to never come across someone that smelled the same way, that way his smell would only make you think of him.

The closer he got, the deeper his fingertips dug into your side, as if trying to pierce holes through your shirt to feel your skin.

Darkness, light—you saw both somehow. The entanglement of lips on lips was a good feeling that both of you felt mutually. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting this moment to ever end. After all, this is the first, and possibly the last time he would ever be this close to you again.

You tried to break the kiss but struggled to when you felt Levi pulling you back to connect again. It wasn’t enough for him. It was never going to be enough.

“Le..v…” You murmured indistinctly, stopping the movements from your lips completely. “No. Please…” He mumbled against your lips continuing his one-sided kiss.

It felt desperate, which was strange coming from a man like Levi who’s never begged for anything from anyone. “Come on. Kiss me.” He said with his lips pressed against yours. The feeling was undeniably good. It brought life back to the heart that stopped longing for specifically his affection.

You started moving your lips again, synchronizing quickly. His bangs tickled your forehead, causing your lips to twitch upwards.

He picked you up and placed you on his lap. Just as you were about to reach for his hair, he broke the kiss.

“I want to touch your skin, Y/N. Not in an inappropriate manner, I just need proof that this isn’t just another one of my dreams. I can’t risk going insane over another night of me just fantasizing about being your one. This shirt is the only thing standing between my hands and your soft skin—reality. I won’t touch you like that if you don’t want me to, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His mouth said something, but as always, his eyes said something else. They were begging for you to allow him to feel you. His hands rested on your hips. Maybe this was going too far. What if you did let him touch your bare skin, and it progressed into something inappropriate?

With that single doubt in your mind, you responded to his request with,“Unbutton my shirt, then.” The light in his eyes was shining brighter than you had ever seen. He was visually shocked at your consent. It was clear that he was grateful to have you that night in his hold.

His hands lowered to where your shirt tucked into your pants and pulled out the fabric. Before he could move onto the buttons, he searched your expression for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. None that he could see—you were that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

He undid every button, not missing his chance to sneak in a brush of his fingertips here and there, on your collar bone or your sternum.

Soon enough your shirt was left wide open, revealing your black bra and newly formed goosebumps brought on by the cold wind. You turned away from Levi, flustered by his eyes on your exposed torso.

He tugged on one of the loose halves of your shirt, signaling for your attention. “Eyes on me.”Goosebumps resurfaced your skin when his knuckles brushed against your stomach. “You’re beautiful.” His soothing voice assured you as his eyes explored the unknown sight.

You were brought close once again, his lips dying to return to where he knew they belonged. Goosebumps rampaged through your body as he pulled your body closer to him by your waist. The feeling of his hands wrapped around your bare sides was absurd. You were now up against his chest. His hands traveled from your sides to your back to keep you pushed against him.

If you had to remain like this for the rest of your life, you’d do it in a heartbeat, if possible, less time.

Though it wasn’t meant to be sexual, he was leaving you breathless—quite literally. His touch made your heart pound in your chest, which he surprisingly didn’t feel, even with you pressed so tightly against him. By the sound of it, he was breathless as well.

“Mmm…Levi.” You mumbled. “Hmm?” He hummed not stopping his lips from devouring yours. “We have…to…mmm...breathe…at some point.” He snickered, smiling slightly, giving you the chance to break your lips away from his. You were able to see a slight shade of pink on his cheeks in the moonlight. Whether it was from the suffocation or the steamy moment remained a mystery.

Soft pants came from both of you, and though he let go of your lips, you weren’t fully released from his grasp. His ring and middle fingers on each hand poked at your back dimples, while his thumbs did light circular motions on the sides of your abdominal area.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I need to know what you intend to do with me, Captain. From now to…” You sigh heavily, not finding it as easy as you thought it would be to fit this conversation into the moment after what had just gone down.

Levi picks up on how tense you’ve become, seeing how stressed you suddenly look. “Hey, I’m going to listen to every word you have to say. I’m all ears, right now.” He squeezes your waist gently.

“Okay, what i’m trying to say is…I don’t want to have to mend my wounded heart every time you push me away.” You look toward the window, looking at how a cloud slowly moves in a direction that makes it collide with another cloud. To be honest, it kind of reminded you of you and Levi. The way your lives collided with each other’s, then separated, only to find each other again.

He held your chin softly between his thumb and index fingers, shifting your gaze back to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded for you to keep going. “I also don’t want to have to apologize for fulfilling my everyday duties that can lead to days of not being able to see you.” His hand released your chin and returned to the spot it was on previously, your side. It was as if he was comforting you and himself at the same time. He was hoping you wouldn’t get off, leaving him incomplete without your body weight on him.

You did exactly as he feared, almost as if you read his mind. You wanted this conversation to be as serious as possible, no distractions. You released your grasp on his shoulders and slowly began lifting yourself off of his lap. He subconsciously began letting go of your body, until he caught himself and tightened his grip, bringing you back to where you were, on his lap.

“Levi? What are you-“ “I want—no, I need you, Y/N. You know how bad it’s been on my end since you stopped talking to me like we’re the two closest people on earth? It’s been hell. Fucking hell.” His hands brushed past your sides and pushed on your back, bringing you to an embrace. Your chin landed on his shoulder and his face nuzzled into your neck. Your arms stayed by your side contrary to his which wrapped around you, brushing past the straps of your bra and settling on your upper back. You felt breaths of hot air tickle your neck as he kept talking.

“You have no clue how sad I’ve been. This is what I need from you. I don’t care if it’s something occasional. I don’t care if I only get to see you once a week, month, or year. I don’t fucking care at all. I just want you, Y/N. Please. Please, just hold me.” You could hear his calm breathing close to your ear. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him. One hand caressed the back of his head, and the other held the mid-section of his back.

He was breathing in your scent discreetly. Black hair tickles your bare shoulder, exposed by your sagging button-up shirt. You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, smoothing down any strands that stood out.

“This feels right.” He mumbled before placing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to feel your heartbeat and your warmth against me like this whenever I can.” His lips continued to brush against your skin slowly.

Minutes went by, not a word was spoken. When you tried to escape his caging hold to continue your conversation, he would just pull you close again nuzzling back into your neck. He was being really clingy tonight—not that you were complaining, it was just a odd.

“We can keep talking like this.” He mumbled. “Okay.” You whispered running your hand across his undercut.

“Are you sure you want a relationship where we won’t have every minute of the day together? I know it’ll be hell for me.” You could feel him smiling slightly against your neck. “Yes, Y/N. I know we won’t have much time in the day together, but we haven’t been taking nights into consideration.” Goosebumps crawled throughout your body when you felt his lips latch onto your neck again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Relax. “I’m willing to be even more nocturnal for you. I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to you every morning.” He dragged his thumb across the damp spot on your neck where his lips rested before. “That s-sounds good.” You stutter noticeably. “What’s wrong?” He holds your face in his hands, clearly unable to fake concern. A smirk tugs at his lips. This man knows what he’s doing.

“Nothing. I’m okay.” You assure with a soft smile. “Okay, just making sure. You know…” He starts leaning in again, aiming for your neck. He knows your weak spot now, and you can’t even hide it.

“…I really like…” He kisses the sensitive skin lightly, basking in the way you shudder. “…spending time with you like this. How about you?” As you open your mouth to answer, he leans in again.

“I…fuck.” You grab onto his arm as he nibbles on the flesh that became more and more sensitive with every second that his lips spent on it. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin. “I didn’t catch that.” He tilted your head to his left to give him more room. More room to litter you with his markings. “I do…” You inhale sharply when he bites the area under the bruising skin he just sucked on. “…too.” He soothes the imprinted skin with his index and middle fingers.

“Good. Tell me, sweet girl, what’s your favorite time of day?” The movement of his fingers slowed, as he pressed gently on the sore parts. His gaze focused intensely on your peaceful features as sighs escaped your lips with every delicate prod of his fingers. He hoped you would say nighttime, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you all the daytime with him that you wished for. Also, nighttime would be the time he would spend with you, making sure you were feeling every good thing you could feel. Happiness, pleasure, excitement, pleasure, love, satisfaction, security, domination, care, submission. You know? The good things.

“Nighttime. That’s my favorite time of day.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “It’s my favorite now, too.” The movement of his fingers on your neck stopped. He looked outside at the moon, remembering the important work he left behind when he decided to look for you. “I should get going.” You frowned slightly which he quickly took notice of. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but I ditched a lot of my work to come find you.”

You dragged your thumb across his half-swollen lips before closing the space between you two and kissing him once more. You released him and said in a whisper,“I understand. Thank you for being here with me tonight.” You got off of his lap and transitioned to a cross-legged position on your bed. He caressed your cheek in an endearing manner, before saying,”I’m glad things are the way they are for us now.” He let you go, and began walking to your door. You fixed your shirt so that you looked presentable again.

“Levi, wait.” “Yes?” He asked, holding onto the doorknob. “Did you take the straps from my uniform off of me?” He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, I did. They would have bruised your beautiful skin if I hadn’t taken them off.” “I could have done it myself, but thank you for that.” You felt cared for. It was such a soft concept to think about. He nodded and continued his exit, a small smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.

I’m the only one who should be wrapped around you and leaving marks in those areas at night.

#aot #attack on titan #captain levi #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #fanfic #levi fic #levi x y/n #levi

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dienamights · 3 years

Text

Road Mishap | K.Bakugou | Drabble

Where Dynamight pays you a little visit when someone is being a little too friendly on the road.

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 1.1K

» Genre: Crack, Prohero!au, fluff if you squint real hard but basically reader being a simp.

» Warning(s): Swearing, guys being assholes, suggestive themes(?), basically Kacchan flexing that he’s getting some ass. Characters are aged up.

» Author’s notes: ahahaha, what are you talking about, this isn't self-indulgent, no I didn't cry for hours after it happened to me today. @tteokdoroki iloveyou come laugh at my pain

I know its too long for a drabble but I HAD FUN WITH IT AND I ALREADY MADE THE BANNER AS A DRABBLE SO SUE ME)

» Masterlist | Requests

“Hah? The fuck you mean you’re being tailgated?” you heard the hoarse voice of your boyfriend through the speakers of your car as you looked through your rearview mirror, the fucking shit-piece of car swerving left and right to irritate you, the heads of five guys swaying with the car and grinning evilly.

“I mean I’m being tailgated Katsu, the fuck else would I mean?” you sneered, sending a glare to the center console of your car, hoping it would reach your dumbass of a hero boyfriend. You honestly didn’t know why you were calling him, Katsuki was busy being on the top 10 ranked heroes and you didn’t expect him to drop everything and run to save your quirkless damsel in distress ass.

But the car behind you sped up, the front bumper of their car kissed the rear bumper of yours, making you screech, a sob escaping your throat when your car jerked forward, hearing the maniac laughter of the douchebags despite your closed windows. You wished you didn’t leave the comfort of your home, knowing that no one in their right mind would even come close to harming the home of Dynamight, unless they wanted their asses blown off.

Katsuki was silent for a few seconds, before you heard frantic shuffling on the other end of the phone as you slowed down at a red light, the car behind you jolting left and right as the boys danced at their loud shit music. Yet, your ears couldn’t miss the deep growl in his voice.

“Send me your live location.” It wasn’t a question, nor a request, it was a demand. And even then, you were pretty hesitant to do as he told. You took a few deep breaths, wiping the few tears that managed to escape during your panic and tried to sound as convincing as possible.

“N-no its alright Suki, I’m almost home a-and besides you’ve got more important things to-”

“Y/N.” You gulped, not used to him directing that threatening voice at you, “I’m not asking you; I’m telling you to send it to me. Now.” No ifs ands or buts, so with a shaking grip, you did as you were told, right as the light turned green, the honks and tires screeching making you whimper as you pressed on the gas pedal to keep driving back home, only then realizing the fact that your boyfriend hung up on you.

“Great. Shouldn’t have called in the first place, real useless of you to call him knowing he’s got more serious things to take care of, people to save! Not just-” your self-scolding was cut short when you heard it, that loud, deafening, awful sound that always made your ears ring for hours on end. The earsplitting sound of your boyfriend, your hero. His explosions blaring and shaking your windshield as he all but flew to you, propelling himself and dropping down on the road between your car and the assholes behind you.

You slowed down and looked back at him through your mirror, watching as he brought both hands in front of him, palms lighting up in that scorching color that reminded you of fires that should never be put out, because they were so damned beautiful, the mesmerizing color of burning sunsets, the entrancing color of those crimson eyes that light up a smidgen, a speck – too quick you almost always miss it – at the sight of your smile.

The car behind you swerved to the left, – whether because of the man popping out of nowhere and standing in front of them or because his hands are about to blow a hole in them, you weren’t sure – crashing into the railing and activating the airbags of the car while stopping all together.

You turned on your hazard warning lights and slowed down to a stop at the side of the road by the sidewalk, getting out to check on your boyfriend – lowkey wanting to see him kick some ass.

You tried your best to hide your laughter as you saw him dropping his gauntlets, biting off his gloves while stomping his way to them and grumbling about ‘tearing their asses up to pieces for coming for his princess’, the – very oblivious – boys’ eyes lit up at the sight of the number 6 hero, cheering at him for being so quick to come rescue them.

Oh, you poor pricks.

Neither you nor the men expected what happened next, as Katsuki blew the door of the driver’s seat up, hauling the guy out of the car and holding him up by the shirt, yelling and swearing profusely at the cowering figure, while his friends hesitantly tried to free him from the hero’s grip. Only to be growled at and promised their turn in being murdered with no hesitation.

“You mean to tell me, that it took Red Riot, Chargebolt and Cellophane to get your punk ass off of these civilians?” The manager huffed, eyes glaring at the scuffed hero in front of him, falling onto the tv playing the news, the header “Hero Dynamight assaults innocent civilians” rolling at the bottom of the screen before looking back at the hero standing in front of him, who wore a scowl and simply rolled his eyes back at him, not caring about the reporter spitting rumors and accusations that were obviously told by the assholes standing behind her.

“Are we done here?” Dynamight huffed back, the shuffling feet of his comrades behind him irritating him because one, they dragged him away from those bastards before finishing beating them up and two, he wasn’t done kicking the motherfuckers’ asses. Yes, they were the same reason and no, he doesn’t give a fuck.

“You’re off of duty for the week, think about what you did and how you could improve as a hero while not harming the innocent.” The man at the desk declared, dropping his glasses on the surface and pinching the area between his eyes and preparing himself for the chaos Dynamight was about to make for being put off duty.

To his – and the other heroes’ surprise – all Bakugou did was scoff, mumbling a fine and asking if there was anything the manager wanted before he went home.

“W-wait a minute.” The man stuttered, “you know that means you’re only to come by next Monday, right?” an affirmative hum met his question and the man could only inquire for the reason behind the absence of the tantrum the hero always threw when it comes to him not working.

“Oh, its just Y/N is waiting for me at home to rail her for saving her life, and honestly I’d rather do that than hang around with you fuckers, later bitches” and then he just… left.

its 3:35 am rn and now i feel better about myself so i can go to sleep without crying, thank you for coming to my ted talk

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chipper-smol · 3 years

Text

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

120 notes · View notes

giuliamarcovaldo · 3 years

Text

You’re Okay, Luca

i wanted to read autistic!luca fics but i couldn’t find any. so what did i do? i wrote my own. this is my first time posting fanfic here! so enjoy this little autistic!luca story (with some luberto fluff and angst)

TW: mentions of violent stimming + meltdown

“I was about to have a meltdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

Summary: Luca gets over stimulated at a fancy dinner party, and Alberto witnesses Luca having a meltdown for the first time.

I want to say they’re 16-17 in this??

100% sfw because they are children

word count: 1580

also please don’t kill me if the Italian words are wrong i used google translate sksjsjaksk

(also note: i am autistic)

——————

Alberto knew I was autistic. I told him about a year ago, when we first became a thing.

“This doesn’t change anything, Luca. There’s nothing in this world that could make me stop loving you.” His words rang through my head as I felt the onset of a meltdown.

Giulia had invited Alberto and me to a gathering with some of her extended family in Genoa. They were all very nice, and Alberto even made friends with some of them (which was no surprise). That wasn’t the cause of my meltdown. It was the atmosphere. It was a bright, loud fancy dining hall, nearly at full capacity. I was wearing a suit and tie that Giulia’s cousin had let me borrow. The collar was scratching my skin in the worst possible way but I didn’t want to be rude so I sucked it up. That was my first mistake. Between the bright lights, loud conversations and music, jam-packed room, a plethora of smells from foods that I had never heard of, and the suit collar, I could feel it coming.

It was sensory overload at first. I tried stimming subtly. I wasn’t out as autistic to everyone yet and the thought of them judging me for stimming made my anxiety worse. But I had to do something. Squeezing my hands into fists under the table. Chewing the inside of my cheek. Running my fingers through my hair repeatedly. It wasn’t enough, but somehow too much at the same time.

I was getting more and more fidgety. It was becoming harder to mask. Would it be rude to just get up and leave without saying anything? Probably. I couldn’t move anyway. I was frozen in my seat. My facial expressions were almost completely gone at this point, along with my ability to speak. Alberto noticed that something was wrong.

“Luca, hey, are you alright?” I couldn’t get the words “no, I feel like I’m about to explode into a violently stimming disaster if I don’t get out of here right now but I can’t move and I feel helpless” out of my mouth so I just nodded and gave him a small, unconvincing smile. I didn’t want to burden Alberto while he was having such a good time. I knew it was ridiculous to think that Alberto would mind helping me calm down, but my brain wouldn’t quit telling me otherwise.

Silenzio, Bruno. Silenzio, Bruno. Silenzio, Bruno. It wasn’t working.

Alberto didn’t look convinced. He knew me too well. Ever since I told him I was autistic he tried his best to make sure I was as comfortable as possible in every situation. I loved him for that but I hated myself for it. It’s like I always need to be babysat and I hate it. I know that he loves me so why do I feel so guilty?

My intrusive thoughts running through my mind was the final straw. It was all too much. Alberto’s face looked more concerned as each moment passed. He was about to witness me having a meltdown for the first time since we met. I didn’t know if I was ready for that type of vulnerability but I didn’t really have a choice. I was about to have a meltdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Luca, we’re going to go some place quiet, okay?”

I shook my head no. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. It had gone from sensory overload, to shutdown, to a full-blown meltdown. I couldn’t hold back my stims anymore. I started hitting my head with my fists and pulling at my hair. Tears rolled down my face uncontrollably, exposing my green-blue scales.

Perfecto.

I didn’t know which was worse: violently and uncontrollably stimming in front of everyone, or unintentionally outing myself as a sea monster. They might have been tied. Most of the guests were too into their conversations to notice the autistic sea monster having a meltdown next to them but the few who did notice started to pass glances and whisper amongst themselves.

“Luca, Luca, you’re okay. I know you don’t like anyone touching you when you’re in sensory overload but I’m going to help you get out of here, okay?”

Alberto helped me get up from the table and escorted me out of the dining room, using his suit jacket to cover my face so no one would see my scales, but being careful to not let it touch my face. We made our way to a long hallway off of the lobby. Alberto sat me down on the ground and flipped the hallway light switch off. Light from the lobby trailed into the hallway but didn’t reach us at the end.

I was out of the environment but still at the height of my meltdown. Tears were still coming from my eyes. I continued to tug at my hair while I rocked back and forth. I couldn’t vocalize anything except for non verbal sounds. I felt so helpless, so defeated, so ashamed.

Alberto tried to redirect my violent stims, to no avail. I’m sure he felt helpless too. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. And I felt bad that Alberto couldn’t help that.

Alberto sat a few feet away from me, probably resisting the urge to pull me into a hug.

“I’ll just sit with you, okay? You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Alberto reassured me that he wasn’t leaving. My perception of time isn’t that great but it felt like at least 45 minutes before I started to come down. Still there, like he said he would be, Alberto let out a deep shaky breath. I hadn’t looked at him the entire time because I was too embarrassed that he had to see all of that. When I finally did glance up at him, I notice two trails of purple scales down his cheeks. Knowing he had cried hurt me even more.

“Are you feeling better?” I was still nonverbal and rocking back and forth but my violent stims had passed. I opened my left hand flat and tapped it with my right index finger.

“Oh! Right,” Alberto pulled a pen and pad from my jacket, which he had helped me remove from my body earlier in my meltdown. He slid them across the floor and anxiously waited for me to write my response.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

Alberto’s face changed as he read what I had written. His green eyes looked sadder when they met my gaze. I could feel my tears starting to well up again.

“No, no, Luca, mio amore, please don’t feel bad. I should have checked on you earlier than I did. I got a little lost with everything going on in there. I’m sorry that I didn’t check up on you sooner...” Alberto was very protective of me. I know that the thought of me suffering while he didn’t know was absolutely crushing him. But it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t anybody’s. I was starting to think rationally again. I shouldn’t feel sorry for having meltdowns, for being autistic, for being myself. But I should have spoken up when I started to feel uncomfortable. That’s something I need to work on, and I know I can do it as long as Alberto is with me. And he always will be.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” I know Alberto was dying to physically comfort me. It was his love language. I nodded my head yes and gave him a warm smile. He crawled over to me and I opened my arms to embrace him. I listened to his steadying heartbeat while he whispered affirmations to me and gently rubbed my back. Warm tears started to fall down my face.

God, I love this boy so much.

“Bontà, there you two are! I’ve been looking everywhere! What happ-“ Giulia’s voice got closer as she made her way down the hallway.

“Oh no, Luca... mi dispiace... I didn’t know you were- when did- where-“ She crouches down next to the two of us. Giulia, also being autistic, could tell I was in post-meltdown. She slaps her palm to her forehead and curses herself.

“Of course! I should have been more aware about- why didn’t I- are you okay?”

“Giulia,” Alberto places his hand on her shoulder. “he’s alright. Nothing that happened is your fault. Or... mine for that matter. We’re alright.”

“Can I get you guys something? A glass of water?”

I nod my head yes.

“Water sounds good, grazie, little sis.” Alberto and Giulia exchange smiles, then she leaves down the hallway, her red curls bouncing behind her.

“Luca,” Alberto cups my cheek in his hand, wiping away my tears with his thumb.

“I love you, okay? I love you so, so much. Nothing is going to change that. Please, don’t ever feel like an inconvenience. It hurts to see you like that, and I know it hurts to experience it. Please, tell me next time, Okay?”

I didn’t even need to tell him that I felt like an inconvenience. He just knew. Like I said, he knows me too well. I nod my head, and pull him back into an embrace. Alberto combs his fingers through my hair, getting rid of the tangles that I made in it earlier.

I feel lighter. I feel safe to be myself. I feel more loved than ever.

——————

that’s it! my first fic! a lot of this is me projecting onto luca (sksakdjsjjsk) but i had a lot of fun writing it! feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism. likes and reblogs appreciated!! :)

#luca #pixar luca #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #autistic!luca #luberto #mine #my writing

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Feeding the Weary Traveler

Mitsuri Kanroji x She/Her Reader

A/N: Warnings for this one are homophobia and a mention of physical assault. Let me know if you think I should mention anything else. It’s a relatively light story considering. I usually like to keep the sexuality of the reader undiscussed so it could be anything, but this time around reader doesn’t seem to be interested in men in the slightest. It’s only a couple of lines but just a heads up. Hope you like it! Sorry if there are more errors than usual. My internet is painfully slow and it makes uploading a chore and a half. Word Count: 6,388

Mitsuri hummed happily to herself as she surveyed the various food stalls lighting up the night around her. She wasn’t sure where she should begin, it all looked so good! She was so lucky to have stumbled upon this bustling little village, and during a festival no less! This dinner was going to be legendary! Hopefully there would be an inn nearby where she could rest between missions and take some time to enjoy it all.

Mitsuri decided that the sweet dango stall was calling her name so she made her way over there first and purchased four skewers. She chewed happily as she walked around and tried to decide what to try next. The dango tasted so good she had half a mind to go back and get a couple more.

The Hashira was about to approach a yakitori stall as she finished her last dango when her crow landed none too gracefully in the dirt beside her. She flapped her wings frantically, her little clover shaped crown slightly askew.

Mitsuri whined as she chewed the last bit of dango before swallowing it down. It looked like dinner was over before it really even started. Well, when duty calls...

She cast one last longing glance at the sizzling meats and followed after her crow out of the village’s well lit valley and into the dark mountains above. Lives could be on the line, dinner could wait.

Mitsuri scaled the rugged terrain, hopping from tree to tree. Her crow flapped erratically just ahead, guiding her to whatever demon was wreaking havoc tonight. Her fingers wrapped tightly over the hilt of her blade as the air became heavy with an overwhelming dense dread that could only be brought on by the demon’s bloodlust.

Mitsuri unfurled her blade and kicked off of the next tree branch particularly hard as a scream ripped through the craggy boulders. A few more leaps and bounds.., she did not slow, a scream could mean many things, it wasn’t over yet. They could still be alive!

Her crow cawed in alarm just as Mitsuri’s eyes locked onto a struggle in the brambles below. Almost on instinct, she cracked her whip-like blade over the demon’s grotesque form, causing it to shriek. The Hashira twirled in the air to land in front of the beast and the young woman trapped and writhing beneath it.

“Get off of her, you miserable fiend!” Mitsuri commanded, readying her blade to lash at the demon again.

The demon wailed again in anger, crushing the dirt beside its hostage’s head before tearing off into the forest in an attempt to get away from the powerful newcomer.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mitsuri called after it, cracking her nichirin blade over its retreating form. The blade sliced into the tendons in the back of one of its legs, causing it to tumble to the ground. Before it could skitter off to heal, Mitsuri swung her blade around again. The specially forged metal curled around the demon’s neck and with one clean yank, it’s head came clean off.

The slayer stayed alert, scanning the area for any other nearby threats. An exhausted caw from her crow alerted her that it was safe to let her guard down. She quickly turned on her heel to asses the young woman’s condition, observing her as she shakily got to her knees.

Her kimono was ripped and dirtied. Blood seemed to be seeping through her cloth of her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and frightened while her breath came shallow and quick.

“Are you alright?” Mitsuri spoke gently, slowly moving into the girl’s line of vision. She didn’t want to scare her anymore than she already had been tonight.

“I don’t know,” she said between gasping breaths, “I, I’m alive. That’s something.” She tried to get to her feet, but something twinged in her ankle and she fell back to her knees.

Mitsuri knelt at her side in concern.

The girl would need some medical attention. “My name is Kanroji Mitsuri. What’s your name?”

“(L/n) (Y/n).” She shakily replied.

“Let me help you home, (L/n)-san. Do you live in the village down below?” Mitsuri asked, helping (Y/n) to her feet, carrying most of her weight for her.

“No,” (Y/n) answered quickly, almost as if the insinuation pained her, “no, I don’t. I live here, in the mountains. My cottage isn’t too far from here.”

“I’ll help you get home, (Y/n)-san. Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands.” Mitsuri assured.

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

Mitsuri eyed the young woman sympathetically. The poor dear was still shaken, but managed to direct Mitsuri in the direction of her home while the Hashira carefully held her up, guiding her through the tough terrain.

Mitsuri frowned at the sight of the worn down shack as it came into view, this couldn’t be it, could it?

“There, I live there.” (Y/n) proclaimed, her voice laced with exhaustion. She must have been able to feel the shift in Mitsuri’s mood at the declaration because she then added, “It’s not much, but it’s home. I built it myself even.”

“Do you live here alone?” Mitsuri couldn’t help but ask, slightly horrified.

“I do.” (Y/n) affirmed, missing Mitsuri’s open-mouthed, wide-eyed shock when she stumbled towards the weathered door. “Thank you again, for saving me and bringing me back home.”

“You’re welcome but...” Mitsuri tried to find words but none would come finally she just shook her head and followed (Y/n)’s stumbling form to the door. “Do you have any medical supplies? Let me help patch you up.”

“I have some things. I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be. You needn’t concern yourself. You’ve done so much for me already, Kanroji-san.”

“Your shoulder could get infected without proper care and your ankle looks sprained or even broken. Let me see what I can do. We might need to take you to the village, there’s got to be a doctor down there.”

(Y/n) shook her head furiously, wincing a bit and grasping her head soon after, “I’m not going into town for anything. I’ll invite you to do what you can here, but that’s where I draw the line.”

Mitsuri was concerned by the girl’s reluctance to go to the village, but she took (Y/n)’s offer and entered the small shack. She was surprised by how homey the inside looked once (Y/n) lit a few lanterns. Not only that, but it smelt heavenly inside.

(Y/n) cursed under her breath as she hobbled over to some kind of makeshift oven and carefully peaked inside before sighing in relief and opened it fully. “It didn’t burn! Thank the gods for small favors I guess.”

“What have you got there, (L/n)-san? It smells very good in here.” Mitsuri said, holding a hand over her stomach in an attempt to quiet its rumbling.

“Bread. Please, help yourself. It’s the least I can offer for all of your help tonight.”

“Really? Thank you!” Mitsuri was practically glowing at the invitation before she remembered why she was here in the first place. “Later! First, let’s check you over.”

(Y/n) gestured to another corner of the space to a wobbly, rustic shelf next to a futon so flat it couldn’t possibly be comfortable to sleep on. Mitsuri’s heart went out to this girl. She couldn’t be too far off from her in age, this was no way to live, and alone no less.

Mitsuri recovered the tin sitting atop the bottom shelf and motioned the girl to sit on the ground as she noted there were no chairs. She kneeled beside (Y/n)’s injured shoulder. A pained grunt rumbled at the back of the hermit’s throat as she painstakingly loosened and lowered the fabric around her shoulders, baring the bloody claw marks to the Hashira.

“Oh you poor dear...” Mitsuri cooed as she gently probed the torn flesh. At least it wasn’t too deep.

“It’s fine,” (Y/n) shivered and looked away, “could you wrap me up now please. Try to be sparing with the bandages if possible.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Mitsuri frowned. She disinfected and wrapped the wound as Shinobu had shown her during her first aid training and managed to only use about a third of the already meager roll. “There,” she gently patted (Y/n)’s shoulder, “that’s all set. Now I just need a look at that ankle. Oh my, it’s swollen pretty bad. We’ll need to elevate it and you should really lay down.”

“I am pretty tired,” (Y/n) sighed wearily, pulling her kimono back up over her shoulders. “Could you help me up?”

“Of course!” Mitsuri eagerly replied, easily scooping (Y/n) up in her arms and standing to her full height.

(Y/n)’s hands scrambled for purchase on Mitsuri’s uniform from the sudden movement. Once she realized Mitsuri’s hold on her was solid and unwavering she relaxed a bit before pulling her hands back to her own chest and jerking her head outwards away from the pale expanse of the demon slayer’s chest. If at all possible, she was sure steam would roll out of her ears like active geysers.

Mitsuri didn’t notice anything amiss and took the few steps needed to lay (Y/n) down in the sad little bed. Then she paid careful attention to (Y/n)’s leg, tilting and rotating it while getting feedback from the girl.

“Well, I don’t think it’s broken, but you should definitely stay off of it for awhile.” Mitsuri informed, feeling anxious. “So you know anyone nearby? Someone that can assist you with your recovery?”

“I’ll be just fine, trust me.” (Y/n) had said.

“That um, didn’t really answer my question.” Mitsuri smiled a bit tightly as more worry settled in her heart. “Do you have family nearby, friends, close acquaintances?”

“If you must know,” (Y/n) weakly spat, “there isn’t anyone. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for nearly two years now.” She finished bitterly.

Mitsuri flinched back at (Y/n)’s tone and the bedridden girl immediately felt bad. She was only trying to help after all. (Y/n) would have been dead without her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

“It’s alright. You’ve had a hard night,” Mitsuri patted (Y/n)’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll just have to watch over you then.”

“Cawww!”

Mitsuri looked over her shoulder at her crow, flapping and comically sweating buckets from her uneasy perch on the windowsill.

“I can take care of myself,” (Y/n) voiced her stance once more, “besides, it looks like your work isn’t over yet. Take a couple loafs for the road as thanks. You’ll need to keep your strength up.”

“I couldn’t.” Mitsuri shook her head. The girl already had so little, it would be a crime to take advantage. She was already paid plenty as a Hashira, she could hold out for a few more hours.

“I insist. I make more than I know what to do with. Quite a bit gets thrown to the wildlife.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” Mitsuri’s resolve crumbled like loose gravel. She was hungry, and the bread smelled really, really good. If (Y/n) was going to insist, how could she say no? Then Mitsuri straightened as an idea formed in her mind. (Y/n) startled as Mitsuri loudly smacked her hands together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, tomorrow before the sun sets!” Mitsuri said with conviction.

“What?” (Y/n) blinked, watching Mitsuri pack three loafs of bread into a rucksack before giving it back to her crow to fly off with.

“I’ll come by tomorrow to check on you.” Mitsuri said before taking a bite out of a fourth loaf of bread. “Mmm, this is so good!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I have to get going now, but I’ll be back! Keep your weight off that ankle and don’t strain yourself!” Mitsuri called as she opened the front door.

“No, wait, Kanroji-san!”

But she was already gone, the door closed tightly behind her before she ran off headlong into the dangerous night.

“And she’s gone,” (Y/n) sighed, “just who is she anyway? She’s practically superhuman,” she covered her face in the crook of her good arm, “and she’s really pretty.”

***

By morning Mitsuri was halfway through her last loaf of bread and standing before the familiar sight of the Butterfly Estate. After seeing the state of (Y/n)’s medical supplies, Mitsuri thought it prudent to visit Shinobu and procure a kit for the girl.

“Mitsuri, hello.” Shinobu greeted upon looking up from her microscope. “What brings you here today?”

“Shinobu, you have to help me,” Mitsuri immediately started in, “I saved a girl last night and she got a roughed up a bit before I got to her. Can you help me make a medical kit for her?”

“Of course I’ll help you,” Shinobu smiled, “but I must ask, why not just take her to a civilian doctor? Surely they would be able to provide the help she may need.”

“She lives alone in the mountains. She seems to have a bad relationship with the village in the valley below, but I don’t know why.”

“Just be careful then,” Shinobu warned, “who knows, you might be dealing with a criminal.”

“No way!” Mitsuri gasped, waving the last couple bites of bread in front of Shinobu’s face, “Could a criminal make bread this good? I think not!”

“Please stay vigilant regardless,” Shinobu giggled before switching gears, “now, tell me what happened last night.”

Mitsuri explained the situation the best she could, detailing (Y/n)’s injuries and what supplies she had left. Shinobu helped her pack up a new med kit that would not only replenish (Y/n)’s supplies, but give her some other helpful medicines that she didn’t have initially. Mitsuri thanked Shinobu with a tight hug that forced her fellow Pillar to dangle in the air for a few moments before being lowered to the ground once more. Then she made her way off the property, running off into the woods. She had a lot of ground to cover before sunset.

After a few hours of travel Mitsuri was feeling peckish. She had unfortunately finished the last loaf of bread before leaving Shinobu’s estate and didn’t have time to replenish her snack sack that her crow carried for her. If she was lucky, maybe the festival she had stumbled upon last night was a multiple night event and she could stalk up once she checked on (Y/n).

With an excited hum, she practically flew up the mountain, making her way in the general direction she knew (Y/n)’s shack to be.

“Oh dear, was it a left at this boulder or a right?” Mitsuri mumbled to herself. The forest was more inviting in the evening light but it looked so different. Cautiously, she tried the left path and scoured her surroundings for anything that looked familiar.

Mitsuri had begun to grow a bit anxious, worried that she had taken a wrong turn. She took a deep breath through her nose to calm herself which was quickly followed by a few more testing scentings of the air. Something smelled delicious. She couldn’t be sure, but it was the best lead she had so far. She followed the hearty aroma and cheered to herself as the rundown, misshapen hut came into view.

The Hashira wasted no time hopping up to the door. She gave a courtesy knock and announced herself before letting herself inside. She smiled to herself as she imagined how happy (Y/n) would be to have such an arsenal of medicinal goods. That smile quickly became a shocked, open mouth of light horror upon seeing (Y/n) up and moving about her small home.

“Ah! I thought I told you not to put any weight on that ankle, you’ll hurt yourself!” Mitsuri worried. She quickly went up to (Y/n) with her arms out in front of her like (Y/n) would collapse at any moment.

“I couldn’t just lay in bed all day.” (Y/n) tried to reason. “You said you were coming back so I felt the need to make dinner for you. You know, to repay you for all you’re doing for me. A little ankle pain can hardly keep me down.”

Mitsuri was touched by the gesture, it made her heart flutter with appreciation, but (Y/n) needed to follow her instructions or who knows what long term damage she would cause herself.

“It smells wonderful, (L/n)-san and I thank you endlessly, but please, lay down right now!”

“I’ve been taking breaks. I’m fine—ah!“

Ah, swept off her feet by the strong and beautiful demon slayer once again. As embarrassing as being doted on in this manner was, (Y/n) was definitely going to revisit this tender care in her dreams. Gods, she was touch starved.

“Really (L/n)-san, don’t be difficult. Let me check on your shoulder, okay?” Mitsuri didn’t even sound strained as she slowly placed (Y/n) down on the futon.

“Oh, okay.” (Y/n) fought through the fuzzy tingles, shaking them from her body as she slid her sleeve off her shoulder.

“Aw, it looks a little infected,” Mitsuri whined as she softly prodded the tender flesh, “but don’t worry! I paid a visit to a dear friend today and I’ve got everything you’ll need!”

“Kanroji-san, this is too much.” (Y/n) gaped in awe at the tightly packed tin Mitsuri presented to her.

“Not at all! Now, hold still while I apply some of this cream.” Mitsuri beamed before swirling the cool salve over the cuts. (Y/n) flinched a bit but the numbing chill soon soothed the pain.

“Wow, that feels really nice.”

“Right? I can always trust Shinobu for the best!” Mitsuri proudly proclaimed as she finished re-wrapping (Y/n)’s shoulder. She then took care of (Y/n)’s ankle the way Shinobu had suggested and looked at her handiwork with pride. “There all done! Shinobu said you’ll want to keep it elevated and free of strain for at least two weeks.”

“Okay, I’ll rest where I can. Thank you.”

“No no,” Mitsuri made an ‘x’ with her arms and pouted, “none of that, you have to rest!”

“I can’t afford to rest. It’s not easy living in the mountains alone.” (Y/n) informed, her eyes shifted over Mitsuri’s shoulder at the burning embers in her ‘kitchen’, “Could you take that off the heat please?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Mitsuri shot up and stole to the dingy pot, her eyes shined upon witnessing the rich, golden broth up close. “Wow, this looks amazing!”

“I’m glad you think so, the mountains are harsh but there are plenty of resources if you know where to look. Please, help yourself.”

“Thank you so much! Here, let me get you a bowl as well. Food always tastes better with company after all.”

Mitsuri tried to prepare another bowl for (Y/n) but quickly discovered she only had one. It seemed like the more she looked at the place, the sadder it made her. (Y/n) seemed to notice the sudden downtick in the slayer’s mood and spoke up.

“Hey, I’ve got a tea mug I’ll happily drink from if you don’t mind my bad manners.” She laughed, provoking a smile from Mitsuri.

“Of course I don’t mind.”

They ate the broth and fresh bread together as they made small talk and Mitsuri was having a great time. It was rare to get to know someone she rescued like this and being able to see (Y/n) while the sun had not yet fully disappeared she got an opportunity to have a really good look at her.

Mitsuri’s face heated as (Y/n) laughed at something she said and she silently praised the forces at hand that allowed her to make it to her in time. It felt good, so very rewarding, to know such a beautiful soul’s time was not cut short by a cruel end. She wanted to keep it that way.

“Something on your mind, Kanroji-san?” (Y/n) asked, breaking Mitsuri from her thoughts with a start.

“Oh! I, um, I was just thinking about how good your food is! You know, the village down below was having a festival yesterday. I bet you could sell a lot of what you make really quickly if you set up a stall there.” Mitsuri exclaimed before diving back in.

(Y/n)’s face soured a bit at the thought, though she sighed wistfully and a sad smile crossed her lips.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She said before taking another sip from her chipped cup.

“Why don’t you go down to the village, (L/n)-san?” Mitsuri asked, her pastel-green eyes gazed at (Y/n)’s downcast face.

(Y/n) stayed silent for a few moments, debating with herself if it was worth delving into her strife with a girl she had only just met the night before and probably wouldn’t see again. At least, she definitely wouldn’t see her again if she were to explain her situation.

“It’s not something I’d really care to discuss. Sorry.” (Y/n) curtly replied.

“No, I’m sorry,” Mitsuri frowned, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. It was an innocent question.” (Y/n) assured, giving Mitsuri’s knee a friendly pat before withdrawing once more.

They continued to talk about anything until the sun disappeared and the stars lit up the night sky and the lanterns were lit to illuminate the hut.

Mitsuri needed to go. The Hashira was reluctant but she wasn’t going to leave (Y/n) completely on her own just yet. She told the mountain dweller she’d come back to check on her in three days time, giggling at the girl’s surprise at the declaration. Mitsuri reasoned that (Y/n) would still need help while she recovered and although she was busy with her duties, she couldn’t in good conscious leave (Y/n) completely on her own. Especially when the girl had a tendency to skip out of much needed rest.

Mitsuri filled her rucksack to her heart’s with (Y/n)’s blessing and set off into the night. She hoped to see improvements in (Y/n)’s health when she returned in a few days.

***

The next visit went well. Mitsuri still had to scold (Y/n) for moving about, but she still, albeit a bit guiltily, heartily ate the meals (Y/n) would prepare for her upon her arrival.

Even after (Y/n) had completely healed, Mitsuri didn’t stop visiting. (Y/n) would always laugh when Mitsuri would show up unannounced, joking that feeding Mitsuri was like feeding a stray cat, she’d always come back for more. (Y/n) was happy for the company though. Very happy.

Mitsuri would also bring little things to make (Y/n)’s shack more bearable, starting with an extra set of dishes so they could properly enjoy a meal together. Before long, they considered themselves close enough to be real friends.

One night Mitsuri came by so late, she had awoken (Y/n) when she knocked on the door. (Y/n) let her in and Mitsuri nearly toppled them both over in her exhaustion.

“Hi,” Mitsuri whispered both shyly and with great exhaustion, “sorry for coming by so late. It’s just been a really long night and I think I’m about to crash any minute now. You were the closest to where I was so...”

“You know better than to think you ever need have an excuse to stop by.” (Y/n) lightly scolded. “Come lay down, are you hungry?” She asked, laying the Hashira down on the new futon that Mitsuri had brought for (Y/n) a couple visits prior.

“I could never say no to anything you make.” Mitsuri smiled, causing a prickly heat to swirl over (Y/n)’s cheeks.

(Y/n) heated up her leftovers and presented them to Mitsuri who ate them with the same vigor she would have if it was fresh.

“So good,” she sighed happily, “really, if this is what you can make in this little hut, I would die of happiness to see what you could do in a proper kitchen.”

“You flatter me, Mitsuri.” (Y/n) smiled shyly. It still gave her butterflies to speak to the demon slayer so familiarly, but it was a good feeling.

“I’m serious, (Y/n)!” Mitsuri swore, “I still maintain that I think you would do very well in the village.”

(Y/n) pursed her lips, which Mitsuri noticed straight away and mirrored before fidgeting with the now empty bowl in her hands.

“Are you ready to talk about that yet? It’s alright if you aren’t.” She hesitantly asked.

(Y/n) would be lying to herself if she thought she wasn’t nervous at the prospect of telling Mitsuri her history with the village, but she found herself wanting to share that part of her story with the sweet woman. Mitsuri had never done anything to hurt her, but that’s what made the aspect of sharing so much more frightening. What if Mitsuri became disgusted with her? Accused her of befriending her with alternative motives? But when (Y/n) met her eyes those doubts quieted and she took a deep shutters breath before blowing it all back out in one harsh breath.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to listen? It might be better if you sleep for the night first.”

Mitsuri seemed more alert already, sitting up fully in the bed and giving (Y/n) her full, undivided attention. “No, I can listen! I want to be able to understand you better and support you in anyway I can! Tell me whatever you are comfortable sharing.”

“Okay,” (Y/n) took another breath, taking a moment to decide how to proceed.

“I was born and raised in that valley, actually. My family owns an inn that doubles as a restaurant to boot.”

“That explains a lot.” Mitsuri commented with a small smile, patting at her full stomach. That earned a chuckle and a nod from (Y/n) before she continued.

“Yeah, my mom started teaching me almost as soon as I could stand on my own. She was strict, but with food that good, she was entitled to that attitude. My father took care of the inn side of things and when he wasn’t doing that, he was drinking his weight in saké.” (Y/n) took note of Mitsuri’s concern and patted her hand while flashing her a reassuring half smile.

“It wasn’t ideal, but that was just life. Incredibly, the business didn’t suffer and he never treated us badly so we saw no need to address it. I didn’t know of any other way of life so I was content where I was. Until...”

“Until what, (Y/n)?” Mitsuri cocked her head to the side.

“Until my parents arranged a marriage for me to be wed to the blacksmith’s son. The union would have brought a large sum of money to my family. The whole village seemed to know about it before I did.” (Y/n) chuckled humorlessly and shook her head while Mitsuri listened, holding herself back from jumping in to ask questions.

“They would talk over me about what I’d wear, who would be invited, even as far as when I should bare a child. I felt like everything I thought I knew was crumbling around me. I hadn’t even talked to the blacksmith’s son before. Even now I don’t recall his name. All I knew was that the idea of marrying him terrified me.”

“Did you tell your parents this?” Mitsuri couldn’t help but blurt, her eyebrows had upturned and creased her forehead.

“Yes,” (Y/n)’s eyes shadowed over as she peered down at her lap, “I admit, the middle of town wasn’t the best place to air my reservations, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They would tell me it was just cold feet or that I was overreacting. Then I had finally had it, and two days before the wedding, I screamed at my mother that I didn’t want to be married to some boy I had never talked to and made a big scene.

She had said then, since I was making such a fuss, that I must have been handing myself out to some other boy while her back was turned and it just made me so mad. I told her there was no other boy, that I didn’t want one.” (Y/n) sighed and pressed her head back against the wall.

“I told her that the only people that I had ever thought of marrying were either the grocer’s eldest daughter or the seamstress’ apprentice who had helped me at my fitting the day prior and then my mother slapped me in front of the whole village.”

Mitsuri gasped, covering her mouth. She was no stranger to the disappointment of a parent, but her parents had never laid a hand on her for any of her failed engagements.

“She was disgusted with me and word traveled fast. The blacksmith called off the arrangement, not wanting his son to have anything to do with my... perversions I think he called them. The grocer refused to sell his produce to my family and kept his daughters inside.

My father, once greatly respected, was humiliated by me and shunned by the whole village. He was furious and drunk which made for a very bad combination as you may imagine. I was severely... disciplined and locked away.

Later that night, I could hear him and my mother discussing selling me to a brothel to be trained as a courtesan. Needless to say, once I believed they were asleep I tore through the paper wall of the room I was trapped in and packed up what I could carry before I escaped into the mountains. I’ve been surviving here ever since.”

As (Y/n) finished her story, Mitsuri sniffed loudly and hiccuped, startling (Y/n) from her memories to try to comfort the demon slayer as she cried for her. Mitsuri pulled (Y/n) into her chest with such ferocity that it cracked the poor girl’s spine.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve such treatment!” The Hashira blubbered. “It was awful of me to ever suggest you go back to that terrible place devoid of love and compassion.”

(Y/n) struggled to breath and patted Mitsuri’s back. “Don’t be hard on yourself, you didn’t know. It’s okay.”

Getting all of that out there, having someone to listen and not judge her for her tale, it made (Y/n) feel so much lighter. Mitsuri kept her close and rocked their bodies side to side and how was (Y/n) not going to cry when she hadn’t been treated so tenderly since she was little. Before long, they were both sobbing messes in the corner of a dingy shack in the middle of the mountains.

By the time their bout had subsided into the occasional sniffle or the loud, gross honk of mucus being sucked back up someone’s nose, the girls had migrated to spooning on the futon with one of Mitsuri’s arms wrapped securely over (Y/n)’s side while the the other alternated between lightly scratching at the nape of (Y/n)’s neck and between her shoulder blades. The fit on the futon was tight, but neither seemed to mind.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed, “the night you saved me I was out because there is a cliff that you can see the whole village from. I knew the festival lights would be up and I really wanted to feel the warmth I used to feel at festival season. Figures I’d be attacked by a demon before I even got there.”

“You’re going to make me cry again.” Mitsuri said, her voice coming out a tad nasally because of her stuffy nose.

“I didn’t mean for that to make you sad. I was just going to say I was glad for that night for nothing else other than I got to meet you. Thank you for sticking around, Mitsuri.”

“Now you’re being so sweet I’m gonna cry again!” Mitsuri sniffled, weakly batting at (Y/n) and making her laugh as she apologized.

“I’m glad I met you too,” Mitsuri whispered softly once they calmed down again. Then they finally went to sleep as the sun was rising.

***

“I just— mm! I don’t want her living in that rundown shack anymore. I never did! But now, I think about it all the time and I just can't stand it!” Mitsuri complained to Shinobu as the Insect Pillar tried to concentrate on the medicines she was measuring out.

“I see.” Shinobu answered simply, making a note before giving Mitsuri her full attention, “Well, if she’s as good of a cook as you keep telling me, I’m sure Aoi would be happy for another pair of hands in the kitchens.��

“What?” Mitsuri blinked.

“You know me, Mitsuri. I have a history of taking in young girls who have nowhere to go. I assume that’s why you have been telling me all of this.” Shinobu smiled mischievously, “besides, you make her sound so cute, how could I say no?”

That got a rise out of the Love Hashira.

“You—! You already have a girlfriend!” Mitsuri sputtered her face as pink as her hair at the possibility of Shinobu trying to woo (Y/n). Worse yet, the very real possibility that it would work! Mitsuri knew just how charming Shinobu could be! But thankfully, Shinobu laughed and diffused the state Mitsuri had worked herself into.

“I was only teasing, but she really can live here. I have plenty of room. I just figured you would want to keep her closer. I didn’t realize your estate was operating at full capacity.”

“Wait, say that again.” Mitsuri said, the wheels in her head turning as she tried to work backwards herself.

“(L/n)-san can live here?” Shinobu tried.

“No, after that.”

“I didn’t realize your own estate was running at full capacity. I thought you would want (L/n)-san to live with you.” Shinobu reiterated.

“Ah!” Mitsuri shrieked, making Shinobu wince ever so slightly. Then Mitsuri roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her around a little bit, “You, Kochou Shinobu, are a genius! I can’t believe I hadn’t realized sooner! Thanks for the talk, bye!”

“Take care!” Shinobu saw Mitsuri off, fixing her tousled fringe as she watched the blur of pink, green and white run out of sight around the corner. Deciding she was due for a break, she wandered down the opposite end of the hall to find out what her girlfriend was up to at the moment.

***

By now, Mitsuri knew the mountain like she knew the back for her hand. The delicious scent of sizzling vegetables and meats never hurt either of course. She didn’t even bother to knock before letting herself in.

“I had a feeling you’d come by today.” (Y/n) smiled as she checked over her shoulder, “I’m not sure what it was, but I’m glad it proved true because I definitely made too much food.”

“(Y/n), live with me.” Mitsuri blurted before shyly hiding her face in her hands. How could she ask that so suddenly? Never mind ask, she definitely didn’t even phrase it as a question!

“Huh?” Was all (Y/n) could get out before she forgot how her voice worked.

“Would, would you maybe, possibly consider maybe living with me?” Mitsuri tried again, her voice raised almost to the point of cracking with every word.

“...I wouldn’t want to impose.” (Y/n) nervously replied after a few moments, busying herself by stirring a pot that was in no need of attention.

“You wouldn’t be!” Mitsuri said with more conviction. “I really want you to come with me. I know you are proud of what you have managed to do for yourself, it’s better than anything I could ever make, but the more time passes, I can’t help but hate how you still live in this rundown, rickety, shack that I can clear in four strides!” Mitsuri demonstrated her point by walking from one wall to the other before turning back to (Y/n) with pleading eyes.

“Please, come live with me. I love you and you deserve more than this.”

“La, la, lalala, lov, love... love me?” (Y/n) quickly turned back to her cooking as the fire cracked so loud it made her jump. Why was she acting like this? Mitsuri loved a lot of people, she obviously meant a friendly, platonic kind of love and now she had just made it even more awkward!

But then (Y/n) jolted again when Mitsuri’s strong arms wrapped around her middle and her chin rested against her shoulder. The Hashira hummed an affirmative as she slowly began to rock them side to side. Between the heat of the low fire and the heat of Mitsuri’s front pressed against her back, (Y/n) was sure she was going to pass out.

“Please (Y/n), live with me?” Mitsuri asked softly. She kissed (Y/n)’s jaw as she moved.

“?!??!!” (Y/n) short circuited, lost in Mitsuri’s softness. Mitsuri merely giggled and rested another to (Y/n)’s cheek, then her ear, her temple, until—

“Oh dear!” Mitsuri gasped as (Y/n) fell limp in her arms. “(Y/n), are you alright? Are you sick? Why didn’t you say something? You shouldn’t be up!”

“I, I’m not sick,” (Y/n) mumbled, smoke rolling off of her like a steam boat, “It’s just a lot of touching that I’m not really used to yet.”

“Oh! Should I stop?”

“Gods no.” (Y/n) sighed and gripped onto Mitsuri’s haori so she couldn’t back away.

Mitsuri beamed brightly before resting a kiss over (Y/n)’s forehead and rubbed her back. “Come with me?” She asked again.

“I’d follow you to the bottom of the ocean if you asked.” (Y/n)’s eyes slipped shut as she enjoyed Mitsuri’s scattered kisses.

“Great! I can’t wait for you to meet all my friends! Iguro-san and Kabumaru will love you, Kyoujirou-san too! He’ll love your cooking. Just watch out for Shinobu though, she’s flirty.”

“Okay, I’ll stay vigilant.” (Y/n) laughed.

“Good girl,” Mitsuri nodded, “now let’s pack up all that you hold dear. We should be able to make it to my estate by dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” (Y/n) nodded excitedly in return. She took the little pail of water from the floor and doused the low flame, “maybe you’d like lunch first though? I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

“Yes! Lunch first and then the beginning of the rest of our lives!” Mitsuri amended, skipping over to the meal (Y/n) had prepared.

As they are together (Y/n) couldn’t help but grin. Mitsuri was right, food really did taste better when sharing it with people you love. The kisses and nuzzles throughout the meal didn’t hurt either.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #kny x reader #mitsuri kanroji #mitsuri kanroji x reader #mitsuri x reader

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