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itadorey · 1 year

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𝐒𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: becoming a jujutsu sorcerer was never part of your plans, and neither was falling in love with gojo satoru. genre: angst, not-quite-lovers to exes notes/warnings: spoilers for hidden inventory, introspection, mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, arguments, there's some moral dilemmas but like no more than usual, reader throws up bc of news they receive (non graphic, literally just says "emptied your stomach".) wc: ~4.6k song inspo ♫: so young by portugal. the man

You never planned on becoming a jujutsu sorcerer.

Being a jujutsu sorcerer was something your parents had trained you for, but you always seemed to be more enamored by the thought of living a safe, normal life. In fact, the thought of attending the Tokyo Jujutsu High had never crossed your mind until the day your family sat you down and begged you to consider spending the next four years of your life there. You had reluctantly met with the school's administration, and your family was enthusiastic to find out you had been accepted immediately.

You weren’t as excited.

Truthfully, you shouldn't have been surprised that you were accepted. You had a powerful cursed technique that guaranteed your spot as a Grade 1 sorcerer as soon as you enrolled into Jujutsu Tech, but the thought of going through with the training made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

As soon as you arrived at Jujutsu Tech, you had immediately asked your teacher, Yaga Masamichi, to meet and discuss your standing. It was in the teacher’s lounge that you came clean to him about not wanting to be a part of the class before politely asking them if there was a behind-the-scenes role you could fill, getting nothing but a surprised look in return. He had stayed silent for a few seconds before pouring you a cup of tea and motioning for you to take a seat on one of the couches.

Yaga wasted no time before he began to explain to you why you had been placed accepted in the first place. In addition to your cursed technique, you hailed from a small, yet respectable family of sorcerers. You would be a great asset to your classmates and the jujutsu world as a whole, especially because you seemed to think rationally even in the heat of danger. You couldn't deny that Yaga's words had given you a sense of purpose.

But no matter what they said, you still couldn’t help but long for a sense of normalcy.

Yaga was able to sense your unchanging feelings and after a few minutes of contemplation, he made a deal with you. If you agreed to stay and hone your skills for at least a year and still decided you wanted to leave after that, he would let you do so with no complaints. After a few minutes of contemplation on your end, you agreed.

Falling in love with the boy you sat next to had never been part of the plan, but then again, you supposed that your plan had been thrown out the moment you submitted your application to Jujutsu Tech.

Gojo Satoru was an annoyance to many of his classmates, but not to you. No one knew how, but over the course of a few months, the two of you had managed to break down each other’s walls and become closer than anyone expected. In your presence, Gojo seemed to appear more good-natured, his teasing remarks toned down as he slung an arm around your shoulders. In return, he managed to bring you out of your shell, helping you form solid friendships with Geto and Shoko.

Perhaps it was because the two of you truly understood each other; just two students who were thrust into the jujutsu world, forced to become sorcerers due to the power that flowed through your veins. Or maybe it was because your seemingly apathetic nature helped you get along well with the loud boy. Whatever it was, it made Yaga happy. As long as you remained close with Gojo, he knew that the chances of you dropping out or simply disappearing were slim.

Of course, there were still times when you regretted accepting Yaga’s proposal. Too many bad things had happened over the course of a few months for you to truly appreciate the fact that you were training in order to be able to help people. The incident that had caused your apprehension to grow the most had been one where you had been sent on a solo mission, assigned to take care of a grade 1 curse that had been residing in an abandoned apartment building.

The curse had been mislabeled, and you had found yourself fighting for your life against a special grade. In a moment of panic and desperation, your cursed energy had flared up more than usual, causing devastation to both the curse and the neighborhood surrounding you. It was only then that Gojo and Geto had burst in, having been sent by Yaga as back-up just in case. The curse had been disposed of by then, and Geto had barely managed to approach you just in time to catch your unconscious body.

The image of you, limp in Geto's arms, had remained seared in everyone's minds for months.

It was after that incident that the higher-ups had started to take closer note of you, and you found yourself retreating from your friends in an attempt to make yourself seem unimportant. You spent more time with the underclassmen, hiding away with Nanami and Haibara and listening to their stories about their classes and missions. You found Haibara's energy endearing, and it was always entertaining to watch him interact with the more stoic Nanami. It was only when Gojo started showing up outside your bedroom door that you finally returned to classes, his never-ending stream of questions about your cursed technique and abilities annoying you until you could no longer stand to be in the same room as him.

It was hard to ignore the way your eyes lit up at the sight of Gojo, regardless of how annoyed your expression seemed. It was also hard to ignore the way that Gojo would sneak glances at you over his glasses, breathless laughter leaving his lips whenever you pushed him out of your way. Geto and Shoko would always exchange knowing glances when you'd hang out all together, the two of them often going ignored as Gojo poked and prodded at your cheeks in an attempt to get your attention.

Yaga had also taken it upon himself to start assigning you missions once again. What had originally been a team of made up of you and Geto eventually grew to include Gojo, simply because he followed Yaga around and complained about how bored he was without you around. Geto had given you a look you had chosen to ignore when the two of you overheard Gojo say that.

The three of you turned out to be a dream team, especially once you had spent more time training with your cursed technique instead of ignoring it. The cursed energy you had displayed against the special grade curse was something that had always been at your disposal to use, you had just never concerned yourself with learning about it.

Everything seemed to be working out for you once in your life, especially with Gojo by your side to help motivate your growth.

But it all changed when the three of you met Amanai Riko.

At first, the mission had been a piece of cake.

Amanai Riko wasn't difficult to locate, and the people that were after her hadn't been hard to deal with either. It had been an easy mission, especially considering that the three of you were some of the best that the jujutsu world had to offer.

You had grown to quite like Riko, and your time with her in Okinawa had only helped you come to terms with your role as a sorcerer to a greater extent. For once, you felt like you belonged. You had a clearer purpose, and you were determined to succeed in every aspect of your life if it meant getting to keep living such a rewarding life.

And then Fushiguro Toji struck.

All you remember is seeing Riko get killed right in front of your eyes, your distress and panic immediately being pushed down in favor of facing the new threat. You barely processed the conversation between Geto and Toji, only catching bits and pieces but feeling your heart drop and stomach twist when he declared that Gojo Satoru was dead.

After that, everything was a blur. You remember fighting alongside Geto, the two of you in sync as you tried your best to survive. You could remember choking on your fear, the situation much more severe than facing that special grade curse a couple of months ago. You remember closing your eyes for a brief moment, your lips moving as you said a silent goodbye to Shoko, Haibara, Nanami, and Yaga. You remember watching Geto get struck down, leaving you alone to face Fushiguro Toji.

There was a determined glint in his eyes when he stared at you, and you did your best to push down the bile crawling its way up your throat as you studied him. It was a tense fight, and you had managed to land a solid hit on Toji, catching him by surprise. You used that moment to your advantage, but no matter how hard you tried, you were overwhelmed by his physical strength as he flung you out across the courtyard.

It was then, with him towering over you and ready to deal the final blow as you looked up at him in defiance, that Gojo Satoru reappeared.

There was something different about him as he looked at you, his eyes a little more focused than usual as he turned to face Toji. You had only caught bits and pieces of what he was saying, and you had scrambled to Geto's side in an attempt to reassure yourself that everything would be okay. By the time you had regained your composure and looked behind you, Fushiguro Toji was no more and Gojo was ambling towards you.

That was when you truly realized just how much power Gojo Satoru truly held.

His eyes had been wide and bright, hands trembling with leftover adrenaline from his fight as he knelt down beside you to cup your face in his hands. You could feel the warm blood on his fingers streaking your face as he scanned you from head to toe, his face breaking out into a grin when he realized you were relatively unharmed.

"You and I," he had said, leaning forwards to press his forehead against yours. His stare was intense, and you found yourself shutting your eyes in an attempt to avoid it. "We're gonna live forever. I swear it."

His words rang in your head even as he pulled away, a weak groan from Geto drawing Gojo's attention away from you. You were on autopilot from that moment on, repeating the incident in your head up until you were back at Jujutsu Tech being treated by Shoko.

You fell into a slump after that, wanting nothing more than to leave Jujutsu Tech behind until you bumped into Geto one evening. All it took was one glance at him to realize that he understood you better than anyone, and the two of you spent many a late night sitting in the dark with a cup of tea in hand. There was never much talking done during these times, and occasionally you would find yourself sitting close to him, hands intertwined as the two of you sought out some comfort.

Gojo continued to grow at an incredible rate, and no matter how much you wanted to be by his side and support him, you couldn't forget about the day that Riko died.

So while Gojo flourished, you and Geto withered. You rarely showed up to class, sitting alone in the corner when you did. Gojo joined you whenever he wasn't off on a mission, which meant you spent a lot more time without him than you'd like. You also grew paranoid, refusing to go on missions and spending all your free time either training in hand-to-hand combat or laying in bed. The rest of your time was spent with Geto, and you found yourself admitting to him that you had never wanted to become a sorcerer in the first place but had been asked to stay by Yaga.

You had hit him when he had absentmindedly commented that you had also stayed for Gojo.

Whenever Gojo wasn't on a mission, it was almost certain the two of you would be together, your heart aching as he tried his best to be there for you despite your dull demeanor. You would often find sweets hidden in your sweaters and bag, and you would occasionally get to your room to find a basket of your favorite snacks waiting outside your door. He understood that you needed space, but seeing you so lifeless, with dark circles carved underneath your eyes, just made his concern grow even more. The thing that eventually pushed him to finally confront you was Shoko's incessant nagging.

And Geto's betrayal.

The news came as a mild shock to you.

Geto, the person who had quickly become your closest friend and the only person in the world who truly understood you, had become a curse-user.

It was silent for a minute after Yaga told you the news, and within an instant, you found yourself sprinting to the nearest bathroom before emptying the contents of your stomach. You shut your eyes tightly as you leaned your head against the wall, trying to ignore everything that was happening.

First, Haibara had been killed due to a mission going wrong, leaving Nanami as the only first year at Jujutsu Tech. Now, Geto had gone rogue and left without telling anyone. You felt another wave of nausea wash over you and leaned back over the toilet, flinching when you felt a warm hand rubbing your back. You turned your head to see Gojo kneeling next to you.

Sobs overtook you and you let him cradle you against his chest, feeling his fingers weaving through your hair as he held you close. You remember being silent as you eventually unwound yourself from him, walking over to the sink and brushing your teeth before letting him guide you towards his room. He followed you like a shadow, silent but close as he tried to hide his concerned expression. He took a seat on his bed, leaning back on his palms before glancing at you and patting the spot next to him.

You sat down next to him, closing your eyes as he reached for your trembling hand. It was awful how something so gentle could remind you of Geto, and you found yourself pulling your hand to your chest as you tried to control your breathing.

"I never thought this would happen," Gojo muttered quietly, watching you closely as he let his hand rest next to your thigh. You shook your head as you opened your eyes, giving him a distressed look before kicking off your shoes and bringing your legs up.

"I did," you replied hoarsely, sniffling as Gojo gave you a bewildered look.

"What?"

"We had this conversation after everything that happened with... Fushiguro and Riko," you admitted. The names were whispered, and Gojo found himself realizing just how big of an effect the incident had truly had on you and Geto. "He spoke with Yuki as well."

"Tsukumo? The other special grade?" Gojo asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You nodded in response.

"There was this hypothetical scenario," you began, pausing to collect your thoughts. Gojo couldn't help but notice the way you tensed, and his fingers twitched with the urge to pull you close. "We spoke about how non-sorcerers release cursed energy at a higher rate than everyone else, and how that contributes to the essentially all the problems we have to face as sorcerers. I didn't know where I was going with that theory. Education, maybe, spreading knowledge about cursed energy in an attempt to contain it. But after Geto's conversation with Yuki, he mentioned getting rid of non-sorcerers as the best option in the long run."

You avoided Gojo's gaze, blinking rapidly as you tried to keep your train of thought. You felt Gojo's fingers brush tentatively against yours once more, and you resisted the urge to take his hand in yours.

"The notion was so ridiculous that we never entertained it," you whispered, freezing slightly before continuing. "Or at least, I didn't."

There was a heavy pause as you finally looked up, meeting Gojo's stare with one of your own. He blinked slowly, trying to read all the emotions in your eyes as they flitted past one by one.

"I knew, Gojo," you whispered, your eyes haunted as you reached over to tug at his sleeve. Your actions were frantic, rushed in an attempt to make him try to fully understand you. He gave you a questioning look, and you pressed yourself a bit closer to him as you grabbed a hold of his shoulders. "I knew that Geto wasn't doing well. Hell, neither of us were, but he was coping even worse than I was and I didn't do shit but sit with him and hold his hand and occasionally listen to him vent. I could've done more. I could've stopped him."

"This isn't your fault," Gojo said firmly, reaching up to grab your arms. He pulled them upwards, settling them behind his neck before letting his hands trail down to your waist to pull you closer. You end up half in his lap, face tucked into the crook of his neck as he pressed you into him. He could feel your breath against his neck, and he held you more tightly as he reminded himself that you were still here with him.

"Yes it is," you mumbled, drawing your arms back to your sides. You made no effort to move away from him. "If I wasn't so caught up in my own fucking wallowing, I would've been able to catch it."

Gojo sighed softly before tucking his fingers under your chin, angling your head up to make you look at him. You felt your heart jump up into your throat, and you swallowed harshly as you reminded yourself that this wasn't the time nor the place for you to be getting all moony-eyed over your friend.

"Your feelings are valid too," he said softly, leaning forward to place his forehead against yours. His eyes remain bright and you find yourself reminded of that horrible day and the words he had spoken to you back then: "You and I, we're gonna live forever." You closed your eyes before ducking down to tuck your head against his collarbone, the thumping of his heart calming you down.

"The two of you were dealing with things I can't even begin to imagine," Gojo continues, unaware of the way you tensed up in his arms. His words just helped to remind you of just how much fundamentally better Gojo was at being a jujutsu sorcerer. "I wish you would've come to me."

There was a moment of silence during which you tried to control your racing thoughts. You thought back to Fushiguro Toji, to Haibara, to Riko, to the special grade curse you had fought way back when, and even to the deal you had made about a year ago with Yaga. Life hadn’t been fair, especially not to someone as young as you were. Gojo looked down at you when you finally went limp, and he found himself studying you worriedly before opening his mouth to speak.

"I'm leaving."

Your whisper sounded a lot louder than it was in the silence of your small room. Gojo's hands tightened around you as he processed your words, and you refused to look at him no matter how hard he tried to catch your eye. "What?"

"Look, I never even wanted to be a sorcerer in the first place," you admitted, taking note of Gojo's confused expression out of the corner of your eye. He didn't respond, and you took the opportunity to elaborate further. "I only enrolled because my parents were afraid of letting my cursed technique go to waste, and I only stayed because I struck a deal with Yaga."

"What was the deal?" Gojo asked uncertainly, his heart feeling a lot heavier than it had mere minutes ago.

"That'd I'd train for a year. And that if I still wanted to leave after, I'd be allowed to. No questions asked."

"No," Gojo stated, squaring his jaw as he took a deep breath. "No, no, you can't leave. You have to stay."

There was desperation hidden in his words, his fingers tensing against your skin as he looked at you imploringly.

"No, I don't," you said, your tone equally as firm as his. There was no hesitance or reluctance hidden in your words, and Gojo felt his stomach twist as he choked on his breath. "I don't want to be here anymore. I didn't even want to be here to begin with, Gojo! My life here has been nothing but pain and grief and utter despair and it's only gotten worse! I'm speaking with Yaga first thing tomorrow morning and transferring out."

"You can't," Gojo responded immediately, his words strangled and heavy with desperation. "You can't leave me, or Shoko. There's so much more left to do, are you really going to give up? It's just you and me and—"

"And what?" you snarled, eyes narrowing as you finally met his gaze head on. "We're gonna have a happy life? Grow up, Satoru. Riko's dead, Haibara's dead, Nanami is falling apart, and Geto is gone. There is nothing here for me anymore and honestly, sometimes I wish Fushiguro Toji had just finished it all before you arrived. You think you're the strongest and maybe you are, but you can't save everyone. We can't save everyone, clearly."

You paused briefly, a bitter laugh leaving your lips as you took in Gojo's wide-eyed stare. "The jujutsu world is a joke. And I want no part of it."

"You can't leave," he repeated, taking one last shaky breath.

"Yes. I can."

"You can't leave me," Gojo breathed, his eyes uncharacteristically soft. "I know you're in love with me."

"Well, you're wrong," you said quietly, your words getting caught in your throat as you took a deep, rattling breath. “I didn’t come to Jujutsu Tech to find friends, much less a lover.”

"I'm in love with you too," he declared in a loud voice, leaving no room for skepticism. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, and you found yourself conflicted as you finally heard the words you had wished to hear since the moment you had met Gojo Satoru.

"Frankly, I don't care," you said after a moment of silence, pushing yourself away from him and crawling out of his lap. You took a couple of steps away from him, looking out your window in an attempt to avoid looking at him.

"You're lying," Gojo said confidently, standing up and getting closer to you. You jerked away from him, gasping when you felt his hand reach out and pull you toward him. He wasted no time before reaching up to cup your face, causing you to breathe in sharply as you screwed your eyes shut, all the fight leaving your body as you leaned into him. "I'm going to be by your side no matter what. It's you and I."

"We're gonna live forever?" you asked softly, receiving a nod from him in return.

"Exactly," he said, grinning widely as he studied your face. There was a moment of hesitation before he looked down, fingers tensing against your face. "Can I kiss you?"

There was silence as you opened your eyes to stare at him, hesitance in your eyes as you studied him for a few seconds before giving him a weak nod. He wasted no time before leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. It ended with a soft laugh from you, dissipating into sniffles as tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," Gojo mumbled, wiping your tears away as they fell. "Everything will be fine, I promise. You have me, and Shoko, and Nanami, and we're going to be okay. We'll get through everything together, okay?"

There was another soft nod from you, and Gojo finally let go of your face to intertwine his hand with yours. Within seconds he was pulling you down into his bed alongside him, pulling the covers over the both of you before reaching out to tuck you under his chin. His fingers ran soothingly over your spine, the tension in your body dissipating as your breathing evened out. It was when you were on the verge of passing out that he spoke once more, his voice soft and tender as stroked your hair.

"I'll never leave your side, I swear it."

You closed your eyes.

The early morning sun woke Gojo up, bright rays of light shining directly into his eyes.

He shuffled uncomfortably, realizing that the two of you had fallen asleep in your school uniforms the previous day. He reached out with a groan, eyes shooting open when he realized that he was alone in his bed. He sat up, leaning on his elbows as he glanced around, seeing no sign that you had even been in his room in the first place.

The first pair of shoes he was able to locate were his slippers, and he found himself wandering through the halls of the school as he made his way to your room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Yaga standing outside your door, hand rubbing the bridge of his nose as he turned away.

"Satoru," Yaga greeted, turning to face Gojo when he heard his footsteps. "Good morning. What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for—"

His words died down as he looked behind Yaga, being met with an empty room. There was no trace of you having ever been there, and if he hadn't known better, he would've thought that it had always been empty. Gojo swallowed harshly, his throat unnaturally dry as he looked back at Yaga.

"Where is—"

"Gone," Yaga interrupted, shaking his head and scoffing lightly. "They left this morning. I trust you knew about our deal?"

Gojo nodded.

"They said it was time for me to hold up my end of the bargain."

He waved vaguely at your room, stepping aside to give Gojo more space. A loud sigh brought Gojo's attention to Yaga, and he raised an eyebrow as his teacher looked up at the ceiling. "I'm going to go finish their transfer paperwork."

He left Gojo with a nod, hesitating slightly before lowering his head and walking away. It was silent as Gojo walked into your room, eyes taking in the empty walls and naked bed. He perched on the edge of it, his fingers running over the bare mattress as he tried to control his breathing.

"Gojo?"

A quiet call of his name had him looking up to see Shoko, and he found himself holding back tears as she shuffled closer. She was holding out her arm, a white envelope clasped in her hand as she reached out towards him.

"They uh, they left this for you before they, y'know."

Gojo took the envelope from Shoko with trembling hands, his fingers running over the seam of it before he crumpled it in his fist, his emotions getting the best of him as Shoko gave him a concerned look.

You had given Shoko the envelope before leaving. You had seen and said goodbye to Shoko before leaving.

"You know, they really—"

"Don't."

Gojo's voice was hoarse as he interrupted Shoko, and he briefly shut his eyes as he felt them burn with unshed tears.

It was only then, with Shoko giving him a sympathetic stare, that he realized that although he promised to never leave your side, all he had received from you was silence.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagine #gojo imagine #gojou imagine #satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojou angst #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo imagines #jujutsu kaisen angst

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konigsrose · 2 months

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König x unhappily married reader PART 1/5

(AO3 Link)

(I said I’d post this next week but I’m super hungover and need to feel I’ve achieved something other than puke this morning… so here it is a day early, because I’m a filthy little liar.) 18+ MDNI!!! (Naughtiness beneath the cut)

You had been working at KorTac for years, but your recent promotion meant far more interaction with higher-ups in the company. You’re good at dealing with people, at least professionally, so this never worried you… until you realised just how much time you’d be working with a certain infamous Colonel. Colonel König was so many things: a giant of a man, yes; terrifying and aggressive at times too; a ridiculously hard-worker who didn’t like to see anyone shirking their duty… but something about him attracted you, even when it seemed to turn all others away from him. In the field he had always worn a mask, and you were glad that now he split his time between training recruits and desk work he spent more time out of that mask; he was surprisingly handsome, for one who covered his face so often. His nose may have been broken too many times to fix, and he may have been covered in scars from head to toe, but his icy blue eyes, strong jawline, and most obviously his huge, muscular frame were all incredibly attractive to you. The contrast with your husband was all too obvious, König was everything your husband wasn’t. König was, in all senses, a strong man.

Perhaps that was why you found yourself unconsciously going to König’s office a little too often. Of course, you always took some paperwork, some procedural question, found some excuse - you weren’t stupid enough to go in there on a social call, and waste the Colonel’s precious time - but you probably didn’t need to go to him every time you did. You didn’t need to linger at the edge of his desk, standing close to his chair, as he showed you on his screen whatever it was you had asked about. You never touched him, or said or did anything that could be construed as inappropriate; you were the height of professionalism. You just enjoyed being near König, near enough to smell the scent of him - tar soap, clean and almost clinical, with a hint of something almost spice-like, perhaps a cologne? He didn’t seem like a cologne kind of guy though, so maybe it was just his deodorant? Either way, that scent became a part of him, a part of your fantasy of König… you would smell it when he walked by you, or surreptitiously enjoy it when you stood at his shoulder behind his desk.

You would never tell anyone the thoughts you had about König in the dark of night, when your husband had fallen asleep in front of the TV, and you lay alone in bed. How you’d dream of that scent enveloping you as you kissed your way down König’s neck, or even left a bite mark on his huge chest… The thoughts had even begun invading your days, unable to be contained and restricted to the lonely nights. Sometimes when you stood at his desk you imagined it, how you could slip behind the desk, straddle those vast thighs, and grind in König’s lap until he needed more from you. Maybe he would snap, and have you splayed out on top of those open files of paperwork, looming above you, taking whatever he wanted from you. It was only when you became so lost in the fantasy that König had to repeat his instructions that you managed to drag your mind back to reality with an earnest apology for your distraction. You listened to the instructions the second time around, and returned to your desk desperately trying to ignore the wetness between your thighs, determined to make König proud of your work, at least, since you couldn’t possibly make your fantasies a reality.

You had no idea that König, the silent, stoic colonel, all business and manly agression, was having similar thoughts about you. When you’d first been promoted to his team, he had hoped you would be a useful asset, no more thought in his head about you than that… and then he had actually met you. It was your eyes, that was what had done it. That first day, as you stood in front of him, so much smaller than he was, gazing up as he shook your hand in welcome… the way those pretty eyes had widened, your pupils all wide, making your eyes dark and sparkling. He had wanted to drop to his knees that very moment and beg for you to be his… and then he had seen the thin silver bands on your finger, the tiny little diamond in one of them… and all those dreams he had begun the moment he’d looked into your eyes had come crashing down.

He tried to resist it, but unwillingly, his eyes kept flickering towards you whenever they could. König used to keep his office door closed, not wanting to be disturbed while he worked. He had realised though that if the door remains open, and he angled his chair just right, he had the perfect view of you at your desk. Of course, now that he knows you’re married, König wouldn’t dream of trying anything… but he could still look, couldn’t he? He watched with greedy eyes as you walk across the room to another woman’s desk - König couldn’t quite remember her name, now, and probably never would - especially when you laid your forearms on her desk to speak quietly, bending over, and giving him a view of your perfect curves presented for him. Unbidden, the image of you similarly bent over a desk filled his head; his desk this time, and preferably with that tight skirt you’re wearing pushed up around your waist… the door would definitely be shut, but that wouldn’t be enough to muffle the moans of pleasure he’d draw out of you, while he fucks you over the wooden surface. He can almost see the scratch marks from your nails in the desktop.

König cleared his throat, shook the filthy images from his head, and tried to ignore the sudden tightness in his clothing beneath the desk. He opened a file on his computer, and did his best to focus on the words on the screen, rather than the pornographic movie that refused to stop playing in his mind. His gaze flickered back to you briefly as you stood up from your colleague’s desk, flipping your hair back over your shoulder as you straighten up. Sheiße! What he wouldn’t give to have his hand tangled in that hair, dragging your head back to expose your pretty little throat for his lips, his teeth. He would love to mark you with bites and bruises, soft skin that declared all over that you belonged to him… but you didn’t belong to him, did you? And you never could. This was a passing fantasy, an infatuation, just a result of sexual frustration; he couldn’t remember the last time he had fucked so much as his own fist, let alone an actual woman. Fists clenched on the desktop, König drove those filthy thoughts of you from his head, and returned to his work.

You would never cheat on your husband, no matter how neglected you might be by him, and no matter how attractive your colonel is. König would never touch another man’s wife; there is honour among assassins, of a kind, and he’s not about to sully that. Perhaps, if you ignore the feelings bubbling within you both, eventually these silly crushes will fizzle and fade… Until then, you’ll have to keep your dirty little fantasies to yourselves, won’t you?

#konig call of duty #könig call of duty #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x you #konig x reader #unhappily married

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dontcallmebree · 7 months

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Savage God by PottersPink, binding by DCB Bindery

Summary: Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. The Asset was only with Steve in 1942 for a few days, but it’s enough to change the course of Steve’s life forever; the journey to becoming Captain America is coloured with urgency, with an undercurrent of fear and determination that in the end he just can’t manage to hide from everyone — But it was all for nothing. Steve saves Bucky from Zola, just to lose him on the train. Their second chance, wasted. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

Specs: Square back bradel, red edges, marbled patterned endpapers and endbands, A6, with slipcase.

A gripping read from @potterspink, undoubtedly one of my all time favorites. I’ve revisited this fic over and over again and it is no less satisfying to read each time!

On the process: I knew I wanted to base the design of this binding around a matchbox, and decided to go with Diamond matches. Really liked how it turned out, especially with the striker design on the spine of the book. Had a lot of fun bringing in elements of the story into the slipcase design too, and the slipcase construction was so much simpler and easier than I expected!

I’m quite pleased with the matches marking parts one to three as well, adding a little pop of red that ties everything together. I’m binding three editions of this fic for Binderary so check out the paperback & collector's edition for a more in depth look at the typeset!

More DCB Bindery Projects

#binderary2024 #dcb bindery #bookbinding #ficbinding #fanbinding #potterspink #stucky #fic #dontcallmebree

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danaewrites · 1 year

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you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part i: and while you were asleep, i was surely awake

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 2.8k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: hii y'all, sorry for not posting in a year :P my only excuse is that i didn't feel like taking the energy to actually write out my story ideas. also perfectionism. anyway i somehow wrote this in two hours while procrastinating my college app essays and have plans to make this a multi-chapter fic despite intending to write an angsty oneshot request for a completely different fandom (i see you, beloved anons, and i raise you this completely unrelated fic <3)… the brain of a writer works in mysterious ways.

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

You were in love with James Potter.

It was a fact of life, just like how the sky was blue, or that his favorite dessert was treacle tart, or that you were the only person he’d ever let see him cry besides his mother. You’d loved him from the moment you met him on the train to Hogwarts as a shy, anxious muggleborn unsure of the new world of magic and prejudice you’d been thrown into without so much as a warning. He hadn’t cared at all about your blood status- didn’t even think to ask about it. He had launched himself into your compartment and began talking at you a mile a minute, beaming with every tooth showing once he found out you were hoping to get into Gryffindor, his hazel eyes alight with the joy of making a new friend. And friends indeed you had become; you were proud to remember that you’d known him before Sirius or Remus or Peter did, though it took only an instant after the Sorting for him to become best mates with the rest of them, too.

You and James were inseparable from that moment on, giggling at Professor Binns’ failure to notice Sirius’ antics in the back of class and reassuring each other when home seemed too far away for comfort. He stole sweets from the Slytherin table for you at meals, and you covered for him when the teachers almost caught him pranking Snape– after all, who would believe that sweet, innocent Y/n would ever be involved in such shenanigans? The soft-spoken demeanor and love of everything pastel you’d thought would eventually oust you from the close-knit Gryffindor boys’ group proved to be quite the useful asset when affirming their ‘innocence’.

Not that they only wanted you around because you were helpful, of course. You had quite the talent for exaggerating stories until even Sirius fell off his seat laughing in disbelief, and your creative mind made for some glorious pranks and entertaining mistakes. Peter would blush for an hour straight if anyone mentioned The Great Plum Pudding Incident of Christmas 1974, all thanks to your clever meddling. And Remus– well, he was eternally grateful for your mother-henning during the worst of his moon cycles. You’d been the first to figure out his “furry little problem”, and upon learning that enjoying chocolate was his favorite method of escapism, showed up every month without fail with an armful of Honeydukes sweets. The little ways in which you loved each Marauder meant the world to them. They would do anything to protect you and make sure you were okay, James most of all. You often teased James that he was more bodyguard than friend, with his deep glares at too-forward Hufflepuff boys masking the big softie you knew he was underneath. You remembered fondly the summer days he spent chasing you around your house, scaring your mother half to death with his colander-and-pot ‘armor’ as he declared that as a chivalrous knight, he was meant to save Princess Y/n from the terrible Acromantula King. Privately, you thought James had a few too many Arthurian legends for bedtime stories as a child, but what could you do?

Even now, as sixth years, the bond between you and James never changed, your love for him ever-growing. Your heart melted every time you glanced over your shoulder in the hallway, only to find him chatting softly with a sniffling first-year and guiding them to Professor Sprout’s office for a hot cuppa and a biscuit. You cheered at his Quidditch victories and were euphorically lifted up onto his broad shoulders afterward, whooping as he galavanted through the common room in celebration. You were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on when his grandfather died, softly stroking his hair as he fell asleep in your lap with tear tracks still running down his face. And he adored you in return– braiding your hair while you worked on Herbology essays, racing you on his beloved broom when you stayed with him during the summer, distracting you from your rants about Slughorn’s unfair grading with a trip to the kitchens and a blissfully soft blanket.

James was your lifeline and you his– and nothing in the world could change that.

Except, perhaps, one tiny little complication. A complication with vibrant red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a natural affinity for Potions. A complication that had sparked your jealousy since the first time you noticed James glancing dreamily at Lily Evans in second year Transfiguration, jealousy that had only gotten worse with his grand declarations of love every week. He’d begun to announce his affection for the muggleborn to anyone who would listen in third year, and it didn’t stop there. No, when James Potter loved someone, he loved hard, and that meant that you had to watch as beautiful bouquets appeared on Lily’s nightstand nightly while the rest of the girls in your dorm whispered and swooned. You were a wallflower when he sighed about how lovely her skin was and how bloody talented she was at everything she did during one of your late-night chats in the common room, curling in on yourself with every word he spoke. When he asked her to Hogsmeade the first time (and the second, and the third, and the fiftieth), you observed as she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, despite the small smile on her face.

It wasn’t that Lily wasn’t smart or pretty or talented– far from it. She deserved every good Potions grade she got, and even the pureblood Slytherins begrudgingly noted how she was the darling of Hogwarts society. But you thought that the way she treated your best friend, refusing his advances quite harshly but sending him flirtatious glances and making a show of wearing his flowers in her hair, was rather unkind and misleading. She had James wrapped around her little finger and didn’t seem to want to let go of his attention anytime soon, despite Snape’s protests about how much time he was spending with her. You disliked Severus, but didn’t think he deserved Lily’s bad treatment either. Sometimes you’d see him staring at James and Lily deep in conversation, and shoot him a glance of communal disappointment– before realizing who you were sharing the moment with and resuming an expression of disgust, at least.

At first, you ignored your growing angst about his new obsession, chalking it up to sleep deprivation, stress over your upcoming exams, and even your monthly. But when you started to run out of excuses for the despair slowly overtaking your heart and flashes of his dark curls began to appear in your sweetest dreams, you were forced to admit that your feelings for James ran much deeper than a platonic friendship. From the way he spun you around in the snow to the way he snorted at Remus’ awful puns, you were head-over-heels smitten with your best friend.

The way he’d filled out since the end of fourth year hadn’t escaped your notice, either; you were pretty sure that his pecs should be considered a traffic hazard, with the way you’d fallen flat on your face after seeing him shirtless after a match. He’d rushed over to clean up every one of your injuries, of course, with a touch so gentle it released a whole menagerie of butterflies in your stomach. You’d barely managed to mumble a coherent thank-you before sprinting to take a very cold shower and scream into your pillow with embarrassment. How on earth did Lily Evans even think around him?!

Alas, you’d read your fair share of romance novels, and you knew how this story would end. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.

That was the state Sirius found you in, broody and lost in thought in a quiet corner of the library. He grinned rakishly, planting a well-polished boot on a nearby chair and leaning over to tap your forehead. “Lots going on in there today, huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, Siri, didn’t mean to ignore you. Just, er, thinking about my Potions essay, do you know how many uses there are for mandelwort? Quite fascinating plants, hones–”

Sirius winced and slid back far across the table. “Oh, no, you are not discussing horrid Potions work with me today when there are so many other wonderful topics.” He gestured to a table of swooning fifth-years gazing dreamily at his backside. “For example, those lovely ladies,” he crooned, sending an exaggerated wink towards them and smirking when they sighed.

You wrinkled your nose and scoffed. “Oh, please, as if I haven’t heard enough about your conquests already. I’m already scarred for life from your stories about that Belgium Veela, let alone the muggle sailor you nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy for.”

He waved a hand, dismissing your allegations of the mental injury caused by his excruciating attention to sordid detail when slightly tipsy in the common room. You made a mental note to charm his shampoo to turn his hair bright lavender for the next week for that little snub. Although, being Sirius, he’d probably just use it as an excuse to sway the rest of the Hogwarts population into going to Hogsmeade with him. “Ah, but darling Y/n, that’s what I’m here for!” He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in mock consideration. “However, I can’t seem to recall a time when you–” here he poked you in the cheek for emphasis– “confessed to a little tete-a-tete in the hallway. Ever. Which means we have a problem,” he grinned.

You felt rather like prey being hunted for sport. “That would be because I’m not interested in anyone, you dolt!” Crossing your arms, you turned your face back towards your homework. Maybe if you denied romantic interest for long enough, Sirius would leave you alone and go flounce off to flirt with the noisy table of fourth years. “Anyway, I heard Marlene’s been circling Dorcas like a lovesick pigeon lately, so perhaps you should be putting your matchmaking efforts to her benefit instead.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon doll, I know you weren’t actually thinking about Potions when I arrived. Who’s the lead actor in those fantasies, mm?” He snatched up your favorite pink gel pen, twirling around his fingers as he looked at you expectantly.

Drat. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted with the latest gossip. You opened your mouth to protest yet again when you caught a flash of red over Sirius’ artfully tousled locks. You watched as James strode up to the alcove where Lily and her friends were studying, transfigured a sheet of parchment into a butterfly clip and held it out to her with a grin. Her laughter pealed out through the library as she let him lean over her shoulder to place it in her hair. He seemed oblivious to the titters of the girls around him while he gazed at Lily adoringly. You felt your heart clench as you recognized the expression on his face; you’d seen it on your own in the mirror after spending time with James, after all. And it seemed like maybe Lily was finally starting to be swayed into accepting his starry-eyed proposals, if the pretty blush on her cheeks was anything to go by.

Sirius tracked your despairing gaze to the couple and immediately paled in realization. “Oh, shit.”

Shit, indeed. Your face turned bright red as you scrambled to pack your bag and leave the area as fast as you possibly could, not sure how you could face Sirius knowing your deepest secret now. The boy had no self-control, fueling the Hogwarts gossip mill with the wild stories he overheard, and he had even less discretion when confessing things to his friends around the common room fire. It’s no wonder he wound up in Gryffindor, you thought miserably. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a secret like the rest of the Slytherins, and definitely not from James. It would only be a matter of time before he let it slip about your feelings to the rest of the Marauders, and— well, you’d just have to face losing your best friend for good once he heard.

Sirius broke your train of thought by wrapping his hands around yours, looking up at you with concern. “Hey, doll, wait— I didn’t know—“

You sniffed and wiped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes away fiercely. “That’s exactly it, Sirius, you didn’t know because you won’t be able to keep it from James.”

He looked guiltily down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a git with keeping things private lately, yeah?”

You nodded, covering your face with your hands. Sirius reached out, placing them back down on the table, and softly said, “Listen, I shouldn’t have pried so hard. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He broke off, pausing to scramble for a handkerchief from his bag to wipe off your rapidly disintegrating mascara. “And I promise not to breathe a word of this to James,” he finished.

You looked up at him, startled. “Are you serious?” At his answering grin, you groaned. “Don’t answer that. But really, are you sure that you’ll be able to resist telling him everything?” You fiddled with the now-soiled handkerchief and whispered, “You two are so close, I don’t want to drive you apart. If James thought you were hiding something important from him, it would destroy him,” you sniffed.

He frowned. “Doll, you know you’re just as important as James is to me, right?” At your answering slump, his jaw clenched and he continued on with more intensity. “You’re like my sister, Y/n, there’s nothing you could do to make me care for you less. Especially not asking for your privacy. Clearly, I haven’t been treating you as well as you deserve if you doubt that.”

He walked around and took a seat in the armchair next to you, pulling you in to lean on his shoulder. “And I can be discreet, you know. I might not show it often, but growing up in a family of the most intensely secretive purebloods ever to exist taught me a few things.” You glanced at him doubtfully, the tiny quirk of your mouth the only sign that you were joking. “Hey, I’m being serious!” He laughed, then quieted suddenly. “This thing with James— you really love him, don’t you?”

You gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of your eye. Sirius released a breath and gazed deeply into the space in front of him. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay?” He poked you in the side. “If he’s too focused on the smell of Evans’ hair or whatever to see that he already has the perfect girl in front of him, he’s not as smart as you think he is.” You giggled slightly, his words warming you. Sirius smiled, happy to see you cheering up a bit.

“Why don’t we go raid the kitchens? The coolest person I know once told me that elf-crafted mint chocolate chip ice cream is the best way to heal a broken heart,” he teased. You groaned, remembering how you’d told him that as a last resort to get him to stop complaining about how he missed his sailor ex-boyfriend every time you two went to Hogsmeade. At least your random advice wound up benefiting you now, you thought as you collected the last of your stationery and exited the library.

Neither you nor Sirius saw how James watched you smile up at Sirius as you walked away, holding his arm and laughing loudly at something he muttered. Anna Dumotier, a Hufflepuff fifth-year and one of Lily’s friends, would remember later that night how he seemed to tune out Lily’s voice for a moment and stared at the doors to the library with a strange expression on his face. His brows were furrowed like he was trying to decipher the answer to an unfamiliar puzzle, his eyes widened with confusion and a glint of something she could only identify as jealousy before Lily brought him back to the conversation with a graceful flip of her hair. But no— she shook her head— that couldn’t be right. What could James possibly be jealous of when he finally had the girl of his dreams in his arms?

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #sirius black #bisexual sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #fem reader #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #marauders #marauders x y/n #lily evans #harry potter #hp fandom

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undercover-smutlover · 1 year

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Multiple Characters x Reader...

main masterlist📌

*·˚Don’t forget to reblog, follow, like, and comment on the authors’ or artists’ pages. Show them some love!

*·˚Broken link or @? Pop a note in the comments or my ask box.

Works by @miniwheat77

Sizes. 141+Alejandro x Reader: Who has the biggest dick?

By Nature, She’s Naughty: Y/n was a wild one

Works by @mistydeyes

Hunk-o-mania Pt.1: The boys thought wrong, now they’re performing

Playboy Bunny Pheonix Edition Pt.2: The boys are very pleased with the solution

Opposite Occupations Pt.1: They realize that all the long hours are worth it

Take A Walk In My Shoes Pt.2: A day in your life

Almost Military Wives GC Pt.3: What goes on when the boys are deployed

Works by @sprout-fics

Afterburn: Just 6 dudes taking care of their girl

Poly 141 x Reader: It takes weeks, month for you all to put the place in order, and by the end of it all, you’re exhausted

Works by @loveindefinitely

Need To Listen To Me: that was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room

Lust for Life: You’re suddenly all too desperate to get back at your father and experiment a thing or two

Works by @the-californicationist

They Help You Practice: You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons.

The Window, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7:

Works by @charliemwrites

From SpecGru With Love

Men at Work

Works by @tojisun

Nosy Neighbours

Sugar, Spice, Everything on Ice

Keeping Him Quiet

141 + König First Word Reactions by @starstruckmiraclekitty: Reactions to their babies’ first words

Be Gentle Man Pt.1 and Be Gentle Man Pt.2 by @rileyslibrary: Etiquette training

Breeding Team by @sirenmoth: AU where reader is an omega who took suppressants

Strip Poker Pt.1 by @catsnkooks: Soap’s CO brought out some cards

Cachorrita Pt.1 and Cachorrita Pt.2 Los Vaqueros x Reader by @lxstfathier: Caught in the middle of narco violence, you are taken in

Four Big Guys by @antigonusyuki: And oh, all the blood rushes to John’s cock

Civillian Asset by @cuckoo-on-a-string: There’s blood under your nails and a threat to your life

Price’s wife = the wife of 141 by @ghosts-cyphera: and you managed. of course you managed. you were price’s good little wife

Sparrow by @diejager: Their tense shoulders slouched, finally knowing where you went

Mafia!141 by @groguspicklejar:

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star by @vellichor-of-the-solivagant: Now, he made music out of you

Home is Where You Are by @1-ker0sene-1: "Taking good care of our boys John…You always do…Making sure you all come home to me again”

Cook!reader x 141 and The Assistant by @bookbrokelibrarian:

Lift Me Off My Feet by @lovifie:

Cherry Bomb by @swordsandholly

FFS Riley Collection by @dozeydaisy

Dad!141 x Mama!Reader by @baduzzxy

Mafia!141 AU, Ext. by @ghouljams

Suite 141 by @mangowafflesss

Contractors!141 by @kyletogaz

Down the Hatch by @syoddeye

Frozen Hearts Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7 by @lushrve

Can’t Stop Thinking About Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Pt.8, Pt.9, Pt.10 by @a-b-riddle

Free Use by @bzurk

Really Good Neighbours by @dragonnarrative-writes

Whole Other Notebook by @auspicioustidings

Retired!141 x Rancher!Reader by @purple-moonbeam

Lifeline by @indigosunsetao3

Ranking by @gardenthatneversleeps

You’re Only Sixteen by @siddyyyyyyyy

On The Run by @devil-in-hiding

Hair Series by @kyletogaz

Secret Baby by @gloomwitchwrites

The Office AU by @flowerfreya

Loop by @eevee-of-eternity

Restaurant Pt.1 and Pt.2 by @disgustingtwitches

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#undercover-smutlover #call of duty #modern warfare #cod smut #favorite fics #fic recs #fluff #slow burn #smut #angst #x reader

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hxltic · 5 months

Note

i have this idea of gymnast! reader and bokuto that I can't get put of my headddd, like her going to his practice and him going to readers as well 😫 cute

Omgomg this is so cute!! I used to be a gymnast😼

The power couple. Y’all do everything together.

Before he went pro, you both attended the same college. He was captain for the last two years he was there, well known throughout campus, but mainly for reasons other than his volleyball talent. Innocent reasons, of course.

But I mean can you blame them? Look at him.

Big bright eyes, expressive and sweet. Huge too. On top of practically towering over everyone he meets, his vivacious nature makes you comfortable and him a likable person overall. It’s not surprising seeing all of the girls that would attach themselves to him.

He’d politely decline, and looking over his show-stopping smile, it provides enough comfort after being rejected to ask if they can recruit themselves as friends instead. He can’t say no to friends, especially after already saying it once, so he internally sighs and nods his head. It was awkward the first few times but he’s come to learn they never actually call. And if they text, it’s just basic conversation that he feels they don’t actually care to know about him.

You met at a meeting for the athletes held by the school, basically congratulating the hard work and achievements of the individual teams and important players. He went up in ranks for his hitting accuracy, dependability, and being an accomplished six rotation player. An overall asset to his team. He shakes the hand of his coach and an older man, taking his certificate, and standing up on the stage for the picture.

After entering the transfer portal, you were elated when one of the top scoring colleges for Women’s Collegiate Gymnastics gave you an offer. Of course you took the chance. With the sport being more of an individual achievement, even though the scoring is all added up in the end, you consistently dropped incredible numbers for the team. You like vault the best, but your teammates are in love with your floor routine and music.

So you go up next. Your hair moving behind you as you step up to your own coach and shake her hand, then receive the frame, ordered to stand right next to Bokuto.

His weight might be shifting, and his eyes may be flickering back and forth from you to the clapping audience of your peers, but he can’t help it. You’re the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

You’re only a few centimeters shorter, your skin glistens, and your pretty eyes are hid from him when your side profile leaves curly hair fallen over your ears. He forces himself to look forward for the last group picture of the ceremony, making a mental note to look up the name he’s heard called by the announcer more than once.

And he does just that. It was a little creepy at first but that was how you met. Now, you both go to the gym in your free time. He powers you through your sets, promising different motivators (new shoes) and food, while you try your best to do the same to him. Most of the time is spent giggling, but hey. Y’all work out with your respective teams on the days you’re supposed to, so does it really matter?

You mainly watch his games because some of your practices are on the same day. Watching these men swing with all their might knowing people on the other side are intended to receive the hit is insane to you. Watching who he explained is the libero throw himself around or get behind balls that seem to be barreling toward his face. You would literally shit yourself.

Meanwhile, when Bokuto comes to watch you, he admires the technical training and physicality that goes into running full speed at an inanimate object and tossing yourself around. How you manage not only to balance, but make it look pretty, and stay pretty doing it. He claims he gets sweaty and gross.

Sometimes after a workout, he’ll walk into your practice and finds a seat somewhere. He hears fast steps, vault boards going off, mats caving from being landed on—it’s all music to his ears now. He’s unironically close with your coach (as he is all the others, and the dietician), mainly because he’s around for you. You try not to get distracted by his slumped figure eyeing you from afar. It gets hard when you do full out routines at the end and you stick it.

He doesn’t truly understand the scoring and how meticulous it is, just that a fall is bad and you have to try your best not to wobble. Which is exactly why even if it wasn’t your best routine, it looked all the perfect to him, and he celebrates when you land your dismount.

There’s nothing more he loves than watching you get ready before meets. Braiding your own hair or letting your teammate do it, putting glitter of the school colors in spots on your face to match the leotard, doing the makeup, and putting the colorful bows in the bun— it’s all a process to him. You look gorgeous after, even when you’ve tucked yourself away in the school tracksuit that hides those thick legs he knows you has.

That’s what he loves most. God, your legs. Your whole physique really. Long, strong legs and thighs that could crush him. Arms that he has to remind you are sexy when you’re looking at yourself in a dress.

Bokuto is strong, he knows that. He’s been athletic and probably has never been out of shape a day in his life. To be with someone that matches his lifestyle and is amazing at her sport? He considers himself blessed. There’s nobody that understands him like you do.

©️hxltic

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shannonsketches · 9 days

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Aside from Geets' entire career off the battlefield being Management, I bet he fell right in love with domestic life after the Cell saga because it gave him back the sense of stability and control and genuine confidence he lost the first time he visited Earth.

Being a professional strategist, managing a small team, and aiding with a larger operation was his bread and butter. So managing a household and helping his CEO wife and father-in-law out with dealing with Earth Technology on One Planet is terrifically small potatoes. And because the Father-Daughter duo are both creative geniuses, he has full access to top tier training facilities that don't exist anywhere else in the universe.

The difference is now nobody cares that he's a saiyan, nobody's trying to remove him from the operation for spite revenge or power, and only time he ever gets threatened with execution it's hyperbole from someone who will probably end the conversation by kissing his face.

Domestic life is just Vegeta getting to do what he's very very good at, all the time, and having people around him be constantly impressed because nobody expects a Warrior Type(tm) to be good at all the other stuff he's been doing for a living since he was five years old.

However annoying it is for people to be surprised you have other skills....Ideal Circumstances for a recovery environment.

Bonus/What Prompted Me Thinking about Vegeta's seamless transition into domestic life:

Every day I laugh about how Bulma was So Mad that Vegeta volunteered her to give 17 a capsule corp yacht because I know she had to explain the concept and serious crime of embezzlement to her husband one hundred and fifteen times and he still doesn't get it because he worked for Freeza and what do you mean the company's money and assets don't belong to you and your family yes of course Freeza used them as a personal piggy bank why else would he have them what do you mEAN

#dbtag #silly hours #headcanons #you thought this was going to be angsty but hAHA we stay sILLY

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dulcewrites · 2 years

Text

Fool Me Once (part 8)

Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (once again.. kind of lol)

Summary: Daella achieves a feat, while you reach your breaking point. Startling discovery is unearthed in King's Landing (wc: 5.5k)

A/N: ok… so a lot happens in this part. We have some shit we need to handle. And we are officially getting into the political stuff. I don’t really have much to preface this with but I hope y’all enjoy lmao. Please reblog, like, and follow. Also come and chat if you read anything you like.

Fmo masterlist

Young Landyn Massey turns out to be a much-needed addition while at Dragonstone. Terribly shy but extremely useful. Unassuming, clearly in need of a friend and quiet as a mouse; the perfect person to have to suit your needs.

His fascination with you had seem to spiral itself into hero worship for Quinton. A young member of the Kingsguard that stood out against the few older ones that occupied Dragonstone under Rhaenyra’s behest. He had even gone as far to ask for lessons from him.

“I am sure you can learn something from watching Prince Daemon,” you say over breaking your fast. “He must be tending to Jacaerys and Lucerys’ swordsmanship.”

Landyn shakes his head, blonde curls flopping with him. “He does not teach the princes.”

Quinton and you exchange a look.

“Their good father has not been continuing their training lessons?”

“Most of the training has been overseen by Ser Darklyn, but it is few and far between,” he shovels more bread and jam into his mouth.

For all the faults Daemon has, he is skilled with the sword and an accomplished warrior. Former leader of the Gold Cloaks that has also seen actual battle. Not taking it upon himself to help his sons after they missed years of training is an inditement on their relationship to you.

Dragons to their names are of course assets, but that does not mean their dragons will always be around. Protection for them seems of no concern for them. No protection for the boys, no attention for the girls. It makes you wonder what Daemon and Rhaenyra have been doing the past six years; the priority seems to lie in creating more heirs. Heirs that ironically bluster and hinder Rhaenyra’s claim. She has true born Targaryen sons that stand in clear contrast to ones she had before Daemon.

“I am sure Ser Quinton can show you something.”

Quinton raises his dark brows, and you raise yours back. He sighs, but agrees, nonetheless. Landyn leaves the two of you in the hurry once his lady mother calls for him.

While pouring more tea, you notice Quinton staring at you incredulously.

“What,” your shoulders slump. You lower your voice a bit. “I know it may be a bit much have a kid follow you around, but I think it is from a good place. If you really do not want to teach him anything, I can tell him.”

He shakes his head, before scratching the scruff on his face. “It has nothing to do with him. I want to know what you’re up to.”

You try to put on a look of confusion.

“I know you, and I know where this is going,” he frowns softly. “All I can ask is that if you confront him or ask anything or him, you do it with me in the room.”

Quinton’s distain for Daemon has been well documented since being at Dragonstone. He doesn’t seem to trust him nor Rhaenyra, but he manages to hold his tongue about the named heir. You lean over and grab his hand.

“I will not do anything with Daemon without you knowing.”

He nods slowly, choosing to believe you despite knowing how your impulses and restlessness seems to be carrying you these days. You received a long lecture from him when he could not find you in your chambers one evening. His tone softened when told him that you walked the halls of the castle after not being able to sleep. It was a particularly fussy night for Alaric, who you finally lulled to sleep.

It was not exactly a lie, the same way telling him you would not deal with Daemon without him was not a lie. You did walk the halls, not able to sleep. Since coming to Dragonstone, you have had the most vivid dreams. Fire, blood, rich black hair attached to a faceless woman. It keeps you up at night. Who is she, and what does she want with you?

You left out that you tried to get into Daemon’s study just to realize it was locked.

You don’t plan on confronting Daemon. He is too much of a wild card for that. Why confront him for the truth when there are other avenues?

———

The day flies by and by the night, you find yourself in Baela’s apartments. The two of you in your dressing grown, all ready for bed. She sat at her vanity while you stood behind her. You gently oiled her silvery blonde curls. It was a soothing pastime that you did with Daella too. There was even time that Aemond let you brush his hair before bed. You were always envious of how soft it was.

“May I ask you something a bit… personal,” Baela’s voice cuts through the peaceful silence within the room. You nod, meeting her eye in the mirror.

“How did your labors go?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. Being a mother is such a large part of your life but having your children is something you push out of your memories. The whole experience was scary enough, not even mentioning everything going on in your life at the time. When you had Daella, there are was excitement but debilitating fear of being a mother. With Alaric, your mind strayed to bringing another child into this mess of a family.

You knew Baela lost her mother lost to do child birth; the last thing you want to do is make her more scared.

“They were hard and painful,” you admit. Upsetting her was not your intention, but lying does no one any good in a life-or-death situation like labor. “But the septas and maesters that tended to me were helpful, and in the end, it was all worth it. Daella took longer while Alaric came fast.”

She nods slightly before looking down at her hands.

“I understand if you have reservations about marriage and children. Perhaps you can speak with Rhaenyra about it. I am sure she had similar worries.”

The suggestion is sincere on your part. If anyone could quell the anxiousness of childbirth and fear over your life being expendable for heirs, it would be the Princess. Baela looks up, something dark flashing behind her eyes. You had always scoffed at the notion of her being like her father. Baela is all warmth and good-natured wit that you assume she got from her mother, but you see him in the look she gives you.

As if she is one bad day away from burning a place to the ground.

“You feel unprepared for it all. That is not unusual.”

You comb through her curls with your fingers. “But on the bright side, you will be our future queen.”

The smile you put on fights to be earnest. The realm will sooner burn than having a clear bastard running it. Jacaerys taking the throne means Rhaenyra managed to get through her reign. Both things seem like far-fetched aspirations.

“Rhaena and I always joke that she has the temperament to be Queen, far more than me,” she laughs, then a mirthless look comes over her face. “We also talked about ruling Driftmark together… when we were young.”

She waves her hand as if to swipe away memories floating around her.

“Well, it technically could be your birthright,” you walk a tight line. “You are the first born twin of the eldest daughter of you grandparents. Of course you would imagine yourself as Lady of the Tides. Especially after your wardship with your grandmother.”

She finally turns to you as you pick up a damp towel to wipe the oil off your hands.

“It is not that I mind Lucerys, not at all but…”

Baela trials off.

“I understand. I am not naive to enough to think that if my lady mother and father were able to conceive another child, a boy, that I would be able to inherit whatever my father leaves for me,” you try to steer the conversation in the direction you want. “It is why when the time comes, I hope that Daella and Alaric are both able to take advantage of the fruits of my families’ labor.”

You brush a stray curl behind her ear. “You are allowed to be upset at father, Rhaenyra, the order of things, or at your situation. You are owed that at least.”

A part of you doesn’t know if you were saying that more for her…. or for you.

Aemond is going to choke his brother to death. It would leave his mother down a child, and his nephews and niece fatherless, but he thinks it would be a necessary evil.

The beginning of the day was spent placating his mother and trying not to strangle his siblings. First, Helaena let Jaehaerys get a hold of one his books on the First Men. He confronted her about the missing pages, and all he received in return was a shrug.

“That is not my problem, brother.”

He was sure he was in one of her moods. Helaena, who normally had the patience and will of several people put together, all but snapped at him. Looking back on it, he should have asked if it has to do with something she saw. She hated to be disturbed immediately after a dream.

The rest of the morning went just as bad. His mother had forced him to break his fast with your parents and her. It might have been nice if Aegon did not show up. Chipper, cheeks flushed, and a letter in hand. He does not say who it is from, but the smugness permeates from him. The whole meal is filled with Aegon making pointed comments, and Alicent trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

There was a sense of relief when both him and Aegon were excused from the table. The older adults chatting about remedies for the cough your mother had mom down with.

“Do you want to go train,” Aegon began to follow him from the dining hall.

“No.”

All he wanted to do was lay down.

“You know, when we were younger, I always hoped you grow out of the moodiness,” Aegon fakes a wistful sigh. “But here you are, a man grown who pouts and sulks his days away.”

Aemond snorted, that was rich coming from Aegon. If it was something he had in common with not only his siblings but with his mother, it was the ability to wallow when they want to.

Alicent used to tell him that certain people were meant to have lingering, lifelong happiness while others had to cherish their fleeting moments. She always said it in the tone that implied that they were the people with fleeting moments.

He ignored Aegon despite his brother following him into his apartments. Helaena was sitting on the couch, large black book sitting in her lap.

“I came to replace the book,” she holds it out, blank look on her face. “It is from grandsire’s collection, but I do not think he will notice.”

She goes to leave, but Aegon stops her. “Please tell our darling brother that he would be so much more handsome if he smiled more.”

Helaena shrugs off the arm he placed around her shoulder. She looks at both at her brothers in mild annoyance.

“Do not mind him Hel, he is just excited his weekly dose of sympathy and attention flew in.”

Aegon’s round eyes narrow a bit. “And where is your letter, Aemond. Or must you get updates on your children from other people.”

“She told me she was not going to right,” the words burn on his tongue and lips. You did tell him it would be better to limit communication. That you would always check in on your and kids’ safety through other avenues. But he feels like an idiot explaining it to Aegon.

His brother has a special way of making him feel that way.

“You two-“

Helaena tries to interrupt their argument.

“I know you worry about what I would do to your wife if given the chance, but have you ever thought about what your wife wants to do to me?”

“Aegon-“

Helaena tries again, more forcefully this time, but it is too late. Aemond shoved his brother, and received an equally rough one in return. He does not remember how they ended up on the ground, but he does remember feeling Aegon’s teeth sink into his flesh.

Helaena stood there for a moment, wondering how this was her life. The sight before her made her feel like she was four and ten again, watching her brothers fight each other in the training yard. Like then, the only thing she could think of was finding Criston. The only saving Grace being the master apartments are near Aemond’s.

Criston sighed at the sight of them but pulled them apart in easy fashion. Years of practice under his belt. The look of exhaustion that he gave them was nothing compared to the berating tone of the lecture their mother gave them afterwards. Auburn curls bouncing as she paced around the room.

It was the typical spiel that Alicent gave her kids when she felt the arguments had gotten too personal. Reminding them that they are family; fights will happen, but there is always a line. They are brothers they will need to depend on each other more than they know. She made them apologize to each other. Aegon and Aemond mumbled out apologies to each other, then ones to Alicent.

Now Aemond laid in bed. A cloth filled with ice lays over his head. Your perfume still lingers on the sheets.

Little does Aegon know is that Aemond does laugh and smile a lot. In the privacy of his own space, he is endlessly amused at how his life has turned out. The irony of the situation is not lost on him. It sits dip in his stomach daily. His days are spent rotating the same thoughts and people in his head.

You, the kids… her.

There was a time that meeting Alys was considered a breath of fresh from the monotony that plagued his life. He knows you would never believe it now, and perhaps he cannot blame you, but it did not start off as affair. Or even looking for one. The map was something that sat in the back of his mind for years till one day he just needed to get out. The day he met Alys gets fuzzier and fuzzier as time goes on. As if someone asked him to draw someone he had not seen in years from memory.

He strangely started to understand Aegon’s attempts at getting out of the castle. Having something that was just for himself. But in the end, nothing is ever just for him. There were moments he should have noticed something was not right. He is smarter than that. Maybe it was the common sense that ironically kept him so dense.

If he admitted it was too good to be true, if he questioned it the way he questioned everything else, the happiness would be ephemeral. And as manufactured of the kind he was used to.

Alys asked about you. He always chalked it up to sheer curiosity. He was curious about the men she had been with, why would she not wonder about the woman he had children with.

“At first I thought it was the blonde woman I kept seeing,” she comes and stands behind the chair Aemond was sitting in. “Then the more I saw her, the more picked up on the resemblance.

A gentle hand works up his back, and dances across his neck.

“She is pretty.” The hand worked its way into Aemond’s hair. “But the other woman I saw… oh, she is much more my type.”

Alys tugs his head back gently. A languid smile traced across her face. A smile he has grown accustomed to. Alys saw and knew so much; there was a slight thrill of not knowing what she was thinking all the time. But the biggest rush came from her honesty with him. Though knowing she thought about his wife left his throat feeling tight.

She lets go of his hair to sit near the fire, green eyes trained on the flames.

“If I only I could see her more…”

He wanted to ask what Alys saw when you showed up in her fires. Aemond is so selfishly interested in his wife through the eyes of other, even now.

The three of you will forever be deeply intwined. The roots of a dead tree bonded together till the rot finally takes over.

As days begin to blur together while at Dragonstone, you notice how restless Daella has become. Her energy and ability to strike up interest anything and everything was nothing new, but something felt different.

She begged and pleaded to see a different part of the island. You use it as an excuse to get away from it all.

Daella chats away, while skipping down the steps. She enthusiastically points to dragons flying around the fortress. It something you had have to get used to. At least at King’s Landing, to see any dragons you would go to the dragon pit; a secure place. Here, they fly and move amongst themselves. They are the true inhabitants of the island, everyone else are the guests.

She rattles off fact Rhaenyra had told her about Syrax. A bright look in her eyes.

Your daughter is so painfully good natured, it makes you wonder what a cruel image of fate for her to be born into this family dynamic. You like to believe she will grow up to be the good parts of you and Aemond. Same with her brother; praying that your mistakes will not eventually be theirs.

Once you two clear a rocky path, you swing towards the back of the castle. It was a back passage that Jacaerys had shown you one day.

“I want to see the flowers, please.”

You laugh a bit. Septa Margery had been trying to instill in Daella that being a lady requires saying please and thank you. Now most of her orders are at least followed by one of the two.

“We can see the garden, but you need to promise me you will eat all of your f-“

A guttural roar breaks up the conversation, and you freeze. It sounds closer than comfort. The ugly and throaty nature of it reminds you of Vhagar. A cry to send fear through those who hear it.

A large breath of hot air hits your back. It takes a moment for you to finally turn around.

“Oh, fucking hells,” you breath out.

The dragon has to be almost as large as Vhagar. Bronze scales with large tan wings. Golden eyes lock in on you and your daughter. You feel the tiny hands tug on your dress, and a face burying itself behind your thigh. The dragon begins to stalk slowly towards you, like a cat cornering a mouse.

This is not how you want to die, at the behest of a dragon. It would be twisted fate for that to happen. Far from home, on an island you hate with people you try to tolerate. Your children need you but you need them alive more than anything. She does not budge. Instead, she peaks her head from behind you.

The dragon stops in its tracks for a moment, and stares. Yellow eyes zeroing in, gray teeth shows as it pulls its mouth back.

“Daella, I need you to go,” you reiterate once the dragon begins to walk again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Caraxes’ distinct red scales circling around the scene in curiosity. You cannot make out his rider on top of him.

The bronze dragon in front of you comes closer, as you try to take small steps back. It extends his neck, and you close your eyes expectantly. This is it you think. Your demise. You say a small prayer for everyone. For Alaric to grow up well, and your parents to not mourn you too deeply. You pray that Helaena lives a happy life, and Aegon finds his purpose. That Alicent’s life gets a bit easier. You do not want Quinton to beat himself up over this. You even send a thought out that Aemond finds some peace in his life so can take care of his son. You especially pray the Mother forgives for putting your daughter in this situation.

A loud screech blares out from the dragon as you feel the wind of breath brushing fiercely against you. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, waiting for the inevitably to come but it never does. By the time you finally have the courage to open your eyes the dragon has flown away. Rush past the castle and towards the mount.

The tears that welled in your eyes fall as you watch in confusion. You know little about dragons and chose to keep it that way. But from small doses you do know, you had never heard of a dragon pausing when it could likely eat you if it wanted.

A sense of dread pools in your stomach as you look down at Daella who had come from behind your leg, and stares towards the Dragonmount.

— — —

The event earlier has been on your mind all day. To the point where your palms inched to write Aemond. If anyone would tell you want you should do, it is him. But you worry a letter addressed to him and sent to King’s Landing would not go through proper channels. You had managed to keep all your letters back there almost farcically lighthearted in fear someone was watching you the way you are watching this family.

An idea pops into your head as you search for parchment to write on. If you cannot write to King’s Landing, perhaps a letter somewhere else may work.

A soft knock breaks you away from your writing.

“Come in Quinton.”

He always checks in on you before you go to bed. When the door opens, it is not inky brown hair that catches your attention, but instead bright blonde.

Daemon is still in his dragon egg gathering gear. Stipes of red and black adorning him. Quinton’s words ring out in your ear. Where is he?

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he smiles softly. You pull your changing gown around you and shake your head.

“I heard the most interesting story about something that happened earlier today,” your heart sinks as he sits on the bench in front of the bed. “It seems that one of the dragons that normally inhabitants the Dragonmount has gotten out.”

You know you have two choices. Lie or admit to what occurred.

“Oh Gods, well I hope nothing bad has happened.”

The mirth on his face only grows. “You are odd little bird aren’t you.”

He gets up and comes behind you at the desk. Your eyes instantly go back to floor. He sighs as if he was hoping this conversation would go better, that you would choose diffently.

“Vermithor will notnstop till Daella acknowledges him as her dragon. He has not been around people for quite some time.”

A lonely, unruly dragon could wreak havoc if not claimed properly.

“She is just a girl,” it sounds pitiful as soon as it rolls off your tongue. But it is the truth. She is a little girl, your little girl.

“She is a Targaryen,” Daemon rebutted, “Being a dragon rider is a part of her blood. Not many get this opportunity.”

Your mind strays to Rhaena, and how much she hopes for a dragon. How much she hopes it will manage to make Daemon into a better father.

“You do not have to give me the ‘it is privilege to have the blood of the dragon’ speech. This is not about my daughter embracing something. It is about another dragon being accounted for.”

Daemon chuckles at your boldness, softly then louder. The laughing goes on longer than is comfortable.

“I am sure you have noticed how fond our future queen is of you. It would be of your best interest, and the best interest of your children, to understand what advantages can come from that,” Daemon’s voice lowers. “Creating the best future for your children includes aligning them with those who can properly take care of them.”

There something left unsaid in the air. Daemon speaks in riddles and tones that makes everyone feel like they are not in the plan.

“Daella and little Aegon could be betrothed,” his words make your head snap up at him. “And in the future, mayhaps that will benefit her and you.”

You flitch when you feel his hand brush your hair from your shoulder. The urge to let out blood curdling scream creeps up your throat.

“I trust that in the end you will make the right decision. It would be such a shame if something… bad were to happen because of it.”

Daemon leaves without another word. You had never felt colder in your life. A wave a nausea rush over you.

That night when you try to sleep, it is not the faceless woman who haunts your nightmares. It is Daemon, covered in Rhaenyra and Aegon’s blood. Crooked smile on his face and Dark Sister in his hand.

Aemond wakes to commotion in his room. He feels fingers pitch his nose, leading him to gasp for air. He expects to see Aegon standing over him, instead the figure is taller, skinner. A deep frown on his young face.

“Daeron?”

He is wearing Hightower green riding armor, hair askew from what Aemond assumes is the wind. Aemond glanced outside the window and sees the sun just starting to come up.

“What did you do?”

The question makes him stare at Daeron for a fraction too long. He’s sprouted up like a weed the way Aemond did when he was that age, all limbs. With blonde curls he makes no effort to tame like Alicent. Aegon’s smile and Helaena’s nose. Aemond likes thinking of his younger brother as a sum of all their parts. All their best parts, not muddled by life.

He thinks about Daeron of all people being upset with him, and a bile works up his throat.

“Because you can imagine my confusion when I get a letter from my good sister saying she is at Dragonstone, without you, and that she is now worried because and I quote ‘her little girl might have claimed a fucking dragon’.”

Aemond’s trance seems to be broken at that.

“Daella what!”

Aemond reaches for what is it Daeron’s hand, but he moves his hand away.

“What did you do,” Daeron asks again, this time softer.

“We are having problems.”

It is the simplest way he can explain it. It is too early in the morning, and his mind is still on his daughter possibly claiming a dragon. There is a feeling of relief of one of the kids reaching that feat. He knows the situation is not the same thing, but he would never want either of them to feel the inadequacy he did growing up without one.

Daeron sighs and sits on the bed next to him. “Apparently she claimed Vermithor.”

Aemond brows shoot up in response.

“Even your kids can’t do anything small,” Daeron laughs, before growing quiet again. “You need to fix this. All of it. Whatever it maybe.”

Daeron also inherited the light spirit Aegon had as a boy. Anger and frustration are not things that bog down the youngest child. Aemond knows he is upset by the serious look on his face.

—— —

Alicent was woken up by guards alerting her of Daeron’s arrival. The joy of seeing her son was quickly replaced by confusion and worry. Daeron always wrote before he came to visit.

“I just missed my siblings, and you of course,” he said brightly, giving her a kiss on the cheek before scurrying off to see his brothers and sister.

She knows there is something more, there always is with her kids. But her mood had only improved even more since seeing him. She naively wanted to embrace her son, who she misses dearly, without having to fret over why he was there.

Alicent always felt like she had to fight to keep her head above water. Lately, she felt like she could breathe a bit easier. She tried not to lend it to the letters Rhaenyra had been sending her. It made her feel like a girl again, in the worst and best ways.

Rhaenyra would mention something baby Viserys had done, and it was easy to forget the years of bad blood. Other days, she would mention Viserys the elder or slip in Daemon’s name, and Alicent could not help but think - sometimes I have not fully forgiven you.

She cannot fully put aside the years she spent alone at court. A young mother without her father. She cannot fully put aside the blatant lies. Alicent knows Rhaenyra does not make these mistakes or steps over others for malicious reasons. At least she convinces herself of such. But Rhaenyra does expect others to go along with the lies, even at the expense of their own safety. Some days, Alicent is sure selfishness is the only thing Viserys decided to pass onto his daughter.

But then Alicent thinks of Rhaenyra’s smile, and one always manages to spread across her face.

Their relationship is not perfect, but then again it has never been. Even in the throes of innocence when they were girls. So, she takes the letters in stride and writes back with the enthusiasm she reads in Rhaenyra’s.

Alicent goes to make her rounds to see Viserys. Over the years, she had assumed it was her sole duty to take care of him herself. The reigns had been lessened over the past few weeks. She let the maesters tend to him more, as she tried to prioritize her time to other avenues she lost over her girlhood.

She had begun drawing again, reading literature that had nothing to do with the Seven Kingdoms or diplomacy. It was nice. Entirely too nice. She should have known the Gods would punish her because of it. When she walks into the King’s chambers pass the lint covered model.

“Viserys,” she calls out softly. He is flat on his back, eyes closed. He is always irritable after being woken up, but he needs to try and get something on his stomach.

“My King,” Alicent tries again, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Viserys had not smelled right for over a decade, but something felt different this time. Slowly, Alicent leans her head over his chest, trying to her the murmur of a weak heartbeat. Seconds of silence go by before Alicent snaps her head up in shock. She covers her mouth as a choke sob fights its way up her throat.

Their were times she dreamt of this day. Of being the one that finally ends this cycle, smothering him in his sleep, slipping some poison. Even something with gore like a knife to his good eye, as revenge for her Aemond. But now that it is here, all Alicent feels is cold all over.

Viserys is dead, and she is once again alone.

You do not remember when the sleep walking started. It feels silly blaming your sleep problems on Dragonstone. A building you have no connection to changing your mood. The trip you insisted you must take leaving you debilitated.

The first time you catch yourself in the hallway. The next time in the dining hall. Quinton had insisted on making his night shifts longer, but you refused, not wanting him to lose precious sleep because of your bad habits. Your lack of sleep had made you snappy, and even more paranoid. The nightmares do not help. All you see when you close your eyes is black hair, and green eyes. The faceless woman image started to become clearer.

Shocking chill is what makes you wake this time. A flush of panic watches over you when you look down to find the bottom of your night gown in the water of the beach. The sun in beginning to rise over the horizon. Drudging yourself through the water is paused when you notice a figure on the beach.

The figure is wearing a flowy grey dress. Black hair, red lips curled into a smile. You blink wondering if you were still in the nightmare.

When you open your eyes, you then notice the sharp blade in the woman’s hand. It is a familiar knife. Sparking silver handle with a big sapphire on the end.

Aemond blade… the knife you got him for your first wedding anniversary. It all dawns on you. Who the woman in the nightmares is. Alys.

Your vision blurs red. You are tired of being someone who bad things happen to. Perhaps it is time to make bad things happen.

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wpiamau · 1 year

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flowersandbigteeth · 2 years

Text

Your first day with your alien husband

General Plot: You finally get your glasses fixed and begin sorting out matters of becoming an archduchess

Word Count: 3.5k

Kherae alien x female reader with glasses

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

W: a bit of angst, sfw alien fluff

Tags: @almostoriginalartisan @lizzhearthz

“I want you to teach me more about managing the family estate, brother,” Dessin said as Idreod choked on his morning coffee. It was one of the few human inventions he really admired. It was bitter and earthy. Delicious. He was annoyed his brother was spoiling it.

“What are you talking about?” he asked sharply, setting down his mug. “Why this all of a sudden?”

He set his jaw.

“I’ve been useless in the past, but I’ve grown up a bit. I want to be an asset to our family. You don’t think I hear the way the staff snicker about me? They think all I’m good for is perfume recommendations for their girlfriends. That was fine when I was young, but now I want some responsibility,” he said.

“Dessin, this is work,” Idreod said, “not a game. If you want to play around I’ll give you a hundred million credits and you can invest in human cryptocurrency or the stock market. I’m told it’s amusing.”

He growled.

“You are always like this!” he snapped, “how can I grow if you are always treating me like a child?”

“Don’t throw a tantrum. Why don’t you visit Gedra for a few days? Get your dick sucked and meet a new plaything,” Idreod said, already bored with this conversation, “I’ll send all your friends this time in celebration of my engagement, all expenses paid. You can call it my bachelor party, isn’t that what human men have?”

He made a noise in the back of his throat.

“You are not taking me seriously, Idreod!” he growled.

Idreod barked out a tight laugh.

“Of course I’m not Dessin. You’ve never done anything serious in your life and that’s fine. You’ll never have to want for anything, so why are you so upset?”

He stood and glared at him.

“You are so sick, brother. You get off on being superior to everyone but deep down you’re just a lonely fool. Someday you’ll find yourself alone with a knife in your back,” he hissed.

Idreod rolled his eyes at him.

“Will you be the one to put it there? Then who will pay your pleasure house bills, Dessin? Don’t be foolish. The humans have a saying. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you little brother.”

He jumped up from the table, knocking his chair to the floor and stormed out of the room, which was just like him.

If he really wanted something he would build it for himself, not beg his big brother for a position. He thought. Idreod could give it to him, but then he would just get bored in a few months and return to his lifestyle. He wondered for a moment if he should just indulge him a little. He would get bored after all.

Perhaps he was still a bit bitter from the day before because he shook the thought away. I am too soft on him already. He behaved with impunity, despite how it tarnished their family name, spent money lavishly without a thought for how it was made, and was generally a poor representative of the Zovith family. He didn’t owe him little kindnesses.

He picked his coffee back up, determined to retrieve his good mood. In a few minutes he would meet his lovely fiance and begin her training.

—

“That was so fast,” you told the optometrist as he handed you your new pair of glasses.

“Yes, Kherae manufacturing technology is much more advanced than human,'' the Kheraen doctor said.

You pulled on the pair and blinked at him as your world came into focus. Like most Kherae he was handsome, but quite a bit older than you with heavy lines in his face and silver tipping his once jet black horns.

“You know we can have your vision corrected,” he offered, “it is a simple procedure. You’ll suffer a day of blindness while the nanites restructure your lenses, but after that your vision will be perfect.”

You smiled at him, just happy you could see.

“Actually, that might be nice,” you said.

You’d always wished I had good vision, being legally blind was such a limitation. He smiled at you.

“I will have a consultation added to your schedule,” he said gathering his tools, “we’ll be in touch soon.”

You thanked the doctor and finished the breakfast the maids had brought you when he left.

A few minutes later Airies appeared and you got a proper look at him for the first time. He was a lean Kherae, with their signature purple skin and spade tipped tail. His horns were short and stuck out of neatly cropped black hair in delicate arcs.

“Archduke Zovith will see you, my lady,” he informed you, gathering you up and leading you down the hall to his office.

You were impressed with the decor now that you could see it. Everything was done in tasteful neutral tones with pretty Kheraen art hung on the walls. Aries noticed you looking and stopped.

“If there is anything not to your liking, my lady, please let me know and we will change it,” he said, “the archduke has given you free reign to decorate as you like. He doesn’t really care about such things. This office looks the same as every other office on Kherae, it would be nice if you would freshen it up for us.”

You nodded and hurried along after him. Your heart pattered in your chest. You were about to see your husband for the first time.

“(Y/N), you look lovely this morning!” you looked up to find Dessin standing in front of you. He was taller than Airies and a bit bulkier with messy golden hair that just covered his ears and black eyes. His horns delicately curled back on themselves in smooth rolls. He was certainly more good looking than you imagined and you blushed a little remembering that you’d kissed him on the cheek.

“Good morning Dessin,” you said, trying to hide your blush with a little bow.

“Are you on your way to see my brother?” he asked, seeming a little flushed and out of breath.

“Oh yes,” you said, “he wants to teach me how to manage the estate.”

Dessin’s face turned chilly for a moment.

“So he will teach you but not me,” he growled.

You frowned.

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” you asked.

He shook the dourness away and smiled, revealing bright white teeth.

“No, not at all (Y/N). You can’t say anything to offend me,” he said, taking your hand suddenly and kissing it. Your cheeks felt like hot irons.

Airies cleared his throat.

“I think we should be going now,” he said tightly.

You nodded and pulled your hand away.

“See you Dessin,” you said and followed Airies into Idreod’s office.

Golden eyes gripped you when you walked in the room and you stumbled into Airies’ back.

“My lady!” he exclaimed, catching you, but you were looking at the Archduke.

He was a beautiful male, looking like some kind of god out of a fairy tale.

His skin was deep plump, making his bright golden eyes shine like polished coins. His hair was spun gold, that fell in a thick sheet down his back. Large, black horns curved backwards in a shallow bow. He had a painfully handsome face. You could see the resemblance with Dessin, but he was so much more, the kind of face that broke spirits. His aura leaked complete power and esteem.

Large hands splayed across the desk as he rose.

“Are you well?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. You felt the urge to brush his delicate, gilt eyelashes with your fingertips. With Airies’ help, you steadied yourself and nodded shyly.

“Do your glasses work properly?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you for sending the doctor, he was very nice,” you replied.

“Leave us,” he said to Airies, waving at him sharply.

When we were alone his eyes inspected you from top to bottom. He smiled coolly and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

“You are dressed befitting an archduchess,” he said, opening a drawer in his desk.

You looked down at the purple dress the maids had given you in the morning. It was a scalloped, boat neck, A-line that fell neatly at your knees. They’d even done your makeup and hair to look pristine. Being fussed over would take some getting used to, but you could appreciate having your eyeliner done perfectly every time.

“You should look like this every day, because you will show up to do business every day,” he explained, “but as a Zovith you must be even more extravagant. Our title is recognized and our rank must be easy to identify when we enter a room.”

He crossed the room holding a square box, opening it to reveal a platinum and diamond brooch with a large emerald at the center. You swallowed thickly as his large fingers manipulated the delicate piece of jewelry and fastened it to your chest.

“I’ll give you a new one every day, ” he said, quietly, his eyes intently searching yours.

You felt your cheeks burn.

“That’s really too much,” you mumbled.

He frowned and stood up straight.

“It is not,” he said, curtly, returning to his desk, “you will have something new every day. My wife will exude a certain status.”

You crossed your arms.

“Idreod, isn’t that a bit wasteful? New jewelry every day? Wouldn’t it be just as impressive to open an orphanage or start a food pantry? You can put your name and glitter all over that if you like!”

He glared at you, but you were becoming more immune to his intensity by the second. You weren't sure why, but he didn’t exactly scare you. He was a lot for sure, but not frightening. Seeing that you weren’t backing down, he blinked and tapped the button on his desk to call Airies.

“Send in Mr. (Y/LN)!” he barked.

Your heart fluttered as your father entered the room.

“Daddy!” you squealed, jumping on him. He held you tightly in his arms, breathing into your hair.

“I was so worried about you ladybug,” he murmured, “you shouldn’t have done this. Please, let’s go home. I’ll sell the shop and we’ll get out of town together. It doesn’t matter.”

He inspected you carefully.

“He hasn’t harmed you, has he?”

You shook your head.

“No, Idreod has been very…thoughtful,” you said diplomatically.

He glared at your fiance.

“Look Mr. Zovith. I know my daughter is very headstrong and foolish, but I’m not okay with this. I’m taking her home right now. This deal is off.”

“Daddy!” you shouted indignantly.

He looked at you.

“Well you are! What were you thinking selling yourself to an alien?” he snapped, “did you think I was just going to give my only daughter away? I’d rather die!”

“You would have died!” you countered, “Typhon would have killed you!”

“Which would have been preferable to this!” he went on.

“Mr. (YLN),” Idreod broke in, “I didn’t bring you here to negotiate. As the father of the future archduchess, you have a role to play as well.”

Your father’s mouth dropped open.

“A role to play? Let me tell you-” he started.

Idreod held up his hand.

“Mr. (YLN), what kind of future do you want for your daughter? Do you want her to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder while you scrape together enough to keep the wolves at bay every month? Who will that loanshark try to sell her to next? Did you know someone attempted to kidnap her on her way here? Who do you think that was? Together, we can provide her a life and I can promise protection. The life she deserves, as royalty.”

He tapped a tablet on his desk.

“This is an employment contract. Last night I bought a chain of laundromats. I can’t allow you to keep the one you own, but if you sign this, you will be president of this company. You can see your daughter as much as you like as long as you agree to appear at necessary functions. You also agree to sign a sworn statement saying I met your daughter after I hired you as president.”

Your father gritted his teeth.

“I’m not selling my daughter,” he said.

Idreod gave him a cool smile.

“You are not,” he said, “you are becoming a Zovith.”

You took your dad’s hand.

“Daddy, please. Just do this…for me? I wish I could have saved the laundromat, but I won’t let you die if I can do something to stop it,” you said.

He looked at you and rubbed his eyes.

“Ladybug. It’s not about the-”

He sighed and crossed the room to Idreod’s desk.

“Fine,” he said, swiping his finger across the screen, then he glanced up.

“If you hurt her,” he said, “I will do anything and everything I have to do to end you.”

Idreod seemed unmoved by his threats, but nodded anyway.

“Of course,” he said, “I wouldn’t assume any less, but I assure you (Y/N) is in the best hands. I don’t just see your daughter as a means to an end, Mr. (L/N). She will be my precious wife and will be treated like fine china.”

You weren’t sure if those were placating words, but they shocked you just the same.

Your father nodded, seeming a little defeated, but still suspicious.

“If you don’t mind reviewing your new role with my assistant Airies,” Idreod said, “(Y/N) and I still have business to attend to today. There will be time for you to reconnect after work hours.”

You gave your father an optimistic smile as he clutched the tablet in his hands like a lifejacket.

“Everything will be alright, daddy,” you assured him.

It took a few more minutes, but you finally convinced your father that you were safe and he could leave the room to go on with his day.

“Thank you for saying those things,” you said, when he was gone, “I think it helped.”

I nodded at her.

“We are a team,” Idreod said, “I only act to benefit both of us.”

Your eyebrows bobbed up, but you nodded.

“Oh…okay,” you said, folding your hands and looking down at them.

“There’s something we need to do,” he said, “follow me.”

Idreod was hesitant to do this, but it needed to be done. As Idreod led you past Airies’ empty desk to the first floor of the building, his subordinates couldn’t keep their eyes to themselves, all curious about the new Archduchess.

He called his personal driver and had you carted across town to the local botanical gardens.

“What are we doing here?” you asked as he helped you out of the car.

“We have important business,” Idreod told you gravely.

He led you through the garden, which he’d reserved just for you the night before. Ahead of you, clouds of butterflies flitted here and there from where he’d had them released for this occasion.

The roses were in full bloom and the air was sweet with their fragrance.

“When I came to Earth, you know what stunned me the most?” he asked.

You looked up at him, pushing your glasses up on your nose.

“No,” you said.

“The varieties of flowers,” he commented, brushing a finger over a fleshy bloom, “the foliage of Akhet is mostly purple with few flowers, but Spring here is like its own festival, full of life and color.”

He looked at you. A flower petal had fallen in your hair.

“No flower here is quite as lovely as you, though,” he said, plucking the soft scrap from your head.

Your cheeks burned and he kneeled in front of you, removing the little box from the pocket he had hidden there.

“(Y/N), will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Idreod asked, presenting you the ring inside. He hoped he was doing this correctly. Aries had suggested some movies to watch for this moment, but he wasn’t sure if it was having the desired effect. Your face darkened and your mouth fell open as your eyes widened.

“Ah…”

He frowned.

“Did you change your mind?” he asked.

You blinked and then your eyebrows jumped up.

“Yes!”

His face looked suddenly, actually, quite horrified. It was shocking on such a usually composed alien.

“...I mean no! Wait..I mean. Yes…I will marry you,” you said, straightening your dress, nervously.

A genuine grin bloomed on his face for the first time that was not related to someone else’s death. Your acceptance was far more satisfying than he expected. He felt warm and tingly all over. He reached out for your hand and you shakily held it out to him.

Your fingers were trembling while he slid the ring on to the right one.

He stood and took your arm.

“Come, let’s take a moment to celebrate before we have to return to the office.”

You nodded up at him, your face flushed.

He led you to a pagoda in the center of the gardens where he’d had his staff set up a violinist and some champagne.

“You arranged all this?” you asked, seeming stunned.

He looked down at you.

“Of course, is it not traditional for human brides?” Idreod asked. It was possible he had misunderstood some cultural nuance.

You blinked at him.

“Um…I guess so…Usually the groom does something special,” you mumbled.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked.

Your eyes became a little wet.

“It’s just all so lovely. I never expected…I’m sorry, I’m getting a little emotional,” you said.

“Have a glass of champagne,” he offered, releasing your hand and popping the bottle for you.

He handed you a glass and you took a thirsty sip before giving him a wet smile.

“Maybe I’m just a little sad,” you said, sighing, “this is so perfect, almost like I had always imagined it, but I thought it would be with someone who loved me.”

You gouged him with your honesty, but there was something so pure about it, he couldn’t really be hurt.

He tipped your chin up to him.

“You are so lovable, (Y/N),” he told you, “do you believe in fate?”

You blinked at him.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had any reason to,” you said.

“In Kherae culture it’s believed that the goddess guides us to our fated mate, our perfect counterpart,” he explained, unsure if he should even be saying it, “I never put much stock into it to be honest, but if it’s true and I have a fated one. I hope that it's you.”

Your cheeks darkened again, but he refused to let your chin go and instead leaned his head down to press his lips against yours.

Idreod had never kissed before. It was some kind of magic.

Your heart exploded in your chest as you felt his soft flesh grazing yours. He tasted sweet and tart with champagne on his lips. His fingers flew to your cheek, drawing you closer. You wanted every ounce of him. His tongue slipped past your lips, exploring you and you welcomed it. You had no way of knowing this but you could have taken whatever you liked, as fast or as slow as you wanted it. From that moment forward, everything that was his became yours.

When you parted, you stared up at him, your fist clutching his chest while he panted.

Airies cleared his throat and you both looked up to find him standing patiently to the side.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Master,” he said in his usual polite way, “but the schedule demands we move on, unless you would like me to cancel your afternoon appointments?”

Idreod straightened himself and collected the glass from your hand.

“No, you’re correct. There’s a lot to get (Y/N) caught up on.”

#alien fluff #sfw alien fluff #monster fluff #sfw monster fluff #exophelia #x reader #monster x reader #alien oc #alien x reader #yandere male #yandere fluff #yandere x reader

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ninapi · 1 year

Text

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Frantically in love ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Nanami Kento wasn’t one to fool around with girls like his fellow first year classmates, yet one girl managed to drive him crazy enough to do things he never thought himself capable of.

Word Count: 3821

Note: This will be a two part story~ ✨

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Chapter 1: Classmates

Nanami Kento was a man of few words.

His team consisted of only him and one more guy, Haibara Yu, just the two of them and they couldn’t be more different. The moment they were assigned into their team on their first day of their first year at Jujutsu Tech, they didn’t really get along, yet they could work together very well, hence, they ended up in the same team and no less than assigned as backup for the strongest sorcerers just weeks after their arrival at the school.

Yu was a very well mannered, soft natured man. He always tried to cheer Nanami up and push him out of his comfort zone, something Nanami didn’t really appreciated much, yet it helped him quite a lot in the long run.

Though, their team was incomplete.

There’s a reason why the teams are composed of three members at the beginning of every sorcerer’s carrier, and that is to guarantee everyone’s safety and the success rate of every mission.

So the news of the new addition to the team later that year didn’t come off as a surprise to any of them.

The surprise was the fact that you were a girl, as pretty and graceful as one can be.

The rumor was that a very fat ugly older man was to join their team, he was a senior businessman who had recently awoken his powers out of nowhere and was in need of training.

However, he ended up being sent out to the Kyoto facility for Mei to train. His technique was closer to her own and she would be a better fit to develop the new abilities of said asset.

You on the contrary, were a beautiful young woman, seemingly the same age as they were at the time. Your eyes glowed with enthusiasm, your skirt a little shorter than it should probably be.

Nanami’s eyes were on you the moment you opened the classroom door.

It wasn’t a special day, just a random Monday at the beginning of the fall season. The wind was starting to get chilly, the colorful leaves on the background making your lovely face shine even more, it was like being in a museum admiring a highly rated piece of art.

“Oh my God! Hi! I’m Haibara Yu, are you our new teammate?” he was on his feet within seconds, smothering you with attention. Right behind you was Gojo Satoru, who had been entrusted to deliver you safely to your new team.

“Back down, will you? Isn’t it too early for you to be this loud? Yeah, she’s your new classmate, be nice to her, she could actually kick your ass easily.” you smiled shyly at both of them, waving your tiny hand.

“I’m (L/N)(Y/N), I will be joining you as of today. Please take good care of me.” bowing politely, all that could be heard in the background were Yu’s screeches and wails. “You’re so cute! Oh my God. We are the luckiest in the entire school, aren’t we Nanami-kun?” he had been quiet since your arrival, not a sound could be heard leaving his lips, yet you could feel his eyes on you from the moment you stepped into the classroom.

He just grimaced at his obnoxious outburst, eyeing you up suspiciously.

“Nanami Kento.” the moment he graced you with his name a blinding smile adorned your beautiful features, causing him to choke in his own spit. He just gave you his name, it wasn’t something important enough to gift the world such a lovely sight, but it did anyway, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanami-kun. I’ll be on your care.” to this he scoffed, while Yu felt like a bucket of icy water fell on his head. “What about me, (Y/N)-chan? Are you happy to meet me too?” his outburst made you chuckle, dropping your bag on an empty desk while waving Gojo goodbye. “Of course!” that was enough to get his spirits back up.

The beginning of a wonderful friendship.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

A few weeks after your arrival, your first mission had been already assigned to you, panic was visible in your face since you’ve never really had to fight a curse in your life. You were excited about it as well, but fear won the battle.

Yu had been assigned to a reckoning mission, nothing fancy or dangerous, all he had to do was gather information for Geto, nothing he needed your assistance with, so Nanami volunteered himself to train you personally that day, his hopes were to ease your nerves, to make you realize you were ready to fight, that there was nothing to worry about, your first mission would be a success.

But it wasn’t working.

You were very much distracted, getting a few hits from him along the way, you were meant to avoid them and counterattack him, but your head was just not present.

After getting beaten down for a third time, he suggested you take a short break, go for a drink or so. Since you didn’t react, he grabbed you by your wrist, gently pulling you towards a bench that was covered by the shadow of an old enormous tree while he jogged over to the vending machine. He grabbed a black iced coffee for him and brought you a can of your favorite drink along the way.

When he got back to the bench you were still spacing out, not even noticing you were now sitting down, and the practice time came to a halt. Worried, he rested the cold end of the can against your cheek, making you look back at him startled by the icy sensation on your soft warm skin. “For me? Thank you, Ken-chan. I really needed this.” you started calling him by that ridiculous nickname a few days back, the first time you had really spent some quality time together in the training grounds. He got to learn your back story, the way your powers awoken at a very early age, how being born out of non-sorcerer parents felt like and the insecurities that came with.

Even if he couldn’t relate to your story, he got to understand you more, made you look more of a normal human in his eyes and less like the fairy tale princess looking sunshine that got into their team not long ago. And to you, he also felt less constipated and more like a regular boy his age. It was an eye-opening experience for the both of you, one that had gotten you closer without any of you noticing.

Yu did notice, though.

And even if that meant he would probably not get a chance with you, he wanted his friends to bond and explore that feeling of belonging both got to experience that day.

“Why are you so stressed out? It’s a lesser curse, (Y/N). It’s probably not even necessary for the three of us to be there. It’s more of a mission for you to see how a real one goes and for you to be ready for later. You won’t have to do much.”

“But what if I mess up? What if one of you gets hurt because of something stupid I did? What if I just can’t move and the curse comes right after me even if you guys were the ones fighting it?” your palms were sweaty, your face pale as a ghost. Nanami could see very well how this was causing you to lose sleep and wanted to try and ease your mind once more.

“If that happens, I will cut it in half before it dares to even breathe the same air as you. I will be there; I won’t let anything happen to you.” there was so much conviction in his every word, his eyes were showing you how serious he was about this, how he really would protect you even if the worse came to happen. Your eyes began to water, your cheeks tinting of a lovely shade of pink at the implications of his statement.

“Y-you will?” you mumbled while sniffing, Nanami’s thumb coming over to wipe a stray tear from one of your cheeks acting on its own accord. “Yeah…so don’t worry, ok? Everything will be fine.”

You’ve never seen him this soft before, yet so assertive. You could feel his resolution, protecting you was more like a promise, not just to you but to himself, he’d do what was necessary for you to be out of harm ways, for you to feel comfortable with your own techniques and to feel safe at all times.

Smiling adoringly at him, you opted for resting your head on his shoulder while sipping on the cold drink you still held in your hand. The sunset that afternoon being one to remember, mixed shades of orange and pink hues turning the sky into a beautiful work of art for your eyes only. Taking off his uniform blazer, he covered your bare legs with it, making you snuggle closer onto his side. It was a chilly fall afternoon, but there was nowhere you would rather be at.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Your first mission went out well, even with Nanami’s attempts on hurting Yu as he kept on pushing you towards the curse; exposure training was the best in his eyes, he wanted you to gain experience, to learn through failure, while Nanami wanted to keep you safe and have you just look from the sidelines until you felt ready to participate in the missions.

You were still new to this and so, they wouldn’t take you to every single mission, just the ones Nanami deemed safe enough.

Today’s mission seemed easy enough, yet for some reason Nanami wasn’t feeling it. “Can I go? Please? I promise I won’t get in the way.” your pretty puppy eyes were digging holes in Nanami’s stomach, but he kept his ground refusing profoundly. “Not today, Ieiri-san wanted your help dissecting a curse.” pouting you turned on your heels, going for Yu instead. “Oh no, no, no, don’t give me that look, don’t want to be fed to a curse by an angry boyfriend. Listen to him, (Y/N).”

“B-boy f-…what?…whatever…” plopping on a chair, he grabbed the newspaper, trying his best to cover his crimson toned face.

“Tch.” grabbing your backpack, you headed over to the lab for a day full of the stench of death and zero to no conversation with your quietest senior.

When Gojo burst the door of the lab open, you could see it on his face, something bad had happened.

“(Y/N)….I…um…the mission your team went into didn’t come with a good outcome…I…” Shoko was staring at him in disbelief, you had been blabbing all day about how you wanted to go with them, how you felt underappreciated and how you wanted to help your team become stronger. This would certainly be an awful blow to you.

“Senpai…where are they?” you were taking off your lab coat, running over to the morgue. Your eyes were dripping with sadness, your knees almost failing you as you ran. You didn’t let Gojo tell you the whole story, you just ran as fast as you could, you couldn’t wait any longer.

“KENTO!” slamming the door open, relief filled your lungs as you saw the blond sitting on a chair with a towel over his face. He seemed ok enough.

You ran over to his side, throwing yourself to your knees, and burying your face in his stomach. You didn’t even notice Geto-senpai was in the room and how there was a body laying over the table. “Please tell me you’re ok…”

“I’ve been better, but I’ll live. (Y/N)…I did everything I could…we just weren’t a match for that curse…” you looked up to see his face, he sounded broken, his voice was raw, his eyes full of unshed tears. “What happened?” you were rubbing soothing circles onto his side patiently, your heart sinking at his words.

Geto left the room to give your team some privacy after confirming the demise of the young sorcerer, his heart heavy with regret and hatred towards humankind and the pest they produce by their uselessness.

Nanami pointed over to the table, unable to find the right words.

The sight of Yu’s lifeless body was more than heartbreaking. He was the best of the three of you, the most loving friend you’d ever had, a great man with a bright future. This couldn’t end this way��you knew this could happen any time, to any of you, that’s just how this job is, but Yu…no, that had to be a mistake, maybe he was just cursed, not dead yet, maybe there’s something that could be done to save him.

Nanami could see right through you, he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Geto-san confirmed his death (Y/N), there’s nothing we can do anymore. It’s my fault, if only I was stronger…”

“It’s not your fault, Kento…” you hiccupped through your words, the wall of tears in your eyes not letting you see him for what he was now, thankfully. “If only I had gone with you guys, maybe I would have helped defeat the curse, maybe Yu would still be alive…” you felt a strong pair of arms circling your waist and pulling you flushed against his chest, sitting you on his lap as he wept silently against your back. “Never…never repeat those words again…you hear me? If you had gone with us…what if you’d had die instead of him? No, this was the right decision, I’m glad you stayed…I’m not sure if I would have been able to protect you myself, I couldn’t protect Yu. I can’t lose you, not you…” his words were dripping with love, his feelings coming out in the open in darker times, you let him cry on your back while you stared at your fallen partner.

This isn’t how you wanted things to end. You always imagined Yu marrying a lovely, beautiful woman, having at least four kids and meeting them in the supermarket while you and Kento shopped together. Grow old together, the three of you. Knowing that won’t ever happen finished breaking your heart and turning it to dust. He didn’t deserve this.

“(Y/N) let’s quit. I can’t lose you too…what if this happens again? What if I can’t protect you?” your back was now drenched with his fresh tears, his shaky hold around you tightening every passing second.

“Let’s get out of here, Kento. I can’t see him like this anymore. He looks like he was in so much pain, he’s probably cold…” gathering himself together, Nanami stood up with you in his arms, reaching over for the sheet covering his fallen friend to shield his body completely from the cold air in the room. Even if he couldn’t feel it anymore, this wasn’t for him, it was for you.

Saying your last goodbyes to your friend you headed over to Nanami’s room. You were just aimlessly walking beside him, letting him guide you to wherever he wanted to be right now.

You stumbled out of your shoes, plopping on his floor and collapsing at the weight of the situation. Nanami went to sit behind you on the floor, resting his back on his bed and cradling you over to his chest, letting you cry out all your pain.

He wouldn’t let this happen to you. He had to do something.

Once your tears had permanently dried out, you looked up to see a very distraught Kento, lost in his own thoughts. He was trying to form a plan to get out of this dangerous world and bring you with him, this loss was too much for him, he didn’t want to experience this ever again, let alone have you succumb to the same fate.

“Kento?”

“Hm?” he looked down at you, resting his forehead against yours waiting for your reply.

“Don’t beat yourself over this, I know you did everything you could. Thank you for coming back to me in one piece, I don’t know what I would have done if you were the one laying on that cold table…” tears found their way out of your beautiful eyes once more, the terrifying image of the man you loved dead on that desolated table all alone shattering you completely.

“I can’t die. I have to protect you...” It’s all he said before feeling your lips crash against his own. You were crying, sobbing really, but you needed to feel every bit of him, unite your souls, mush them into one.

He held you as close as he could, returning your kiss while tearing up. He knew this wasn’t about Yu anymore, he could feel how frightened you were right now, how it terrified you that he would end up the same way Yu did, and he felt the same way, he would rather die than seeing you on that table covered in blood and without a heartbeat.

“Seriously though, let’s run away from this (Y/N). I won’t lose you too…” you just nodded in between kisses, fisting his uniform blazer as to hold yourself together.

“I’d go anywhere with you, Kento. Just please, don’t die…don’t get hurt…don’t leave me…” your desperate cries made his resolution grow, he didn’t want this any longer, he wanted safety, a nice home, a car, even kids maybe, one day. This dangerous life was to be put behind, as soon as possible. And he would drag you with him.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Trying to get out of the business wasn’t easy. Turns out you could only quit once you graduated from the school, and you still had a few years to go through for that.

In return, the headmaster promised to send you both only on clean up and reckoning missions, if you two didn’t want to be involved anymore, the least you could do was to clean after your seniors. To this the two of you agreed and your bond strengthened as time went on.

You were officially together at this point and the rest of your school life remained just that.

Daily classes, some physical training, every so often a reckoning mission in the countryside which always turned into a lovely rendezvous with your boyfriend and of course the disgusting clean up missions where you would end up covered in guts and goo, though were as rewarding as any other. At least you were still of some sort of help, at least you were safe.

Nanami had applied for an internship in a very big well known company, his new goal was to become a salaryman, one with a high pay rate, get an apartment for the both of you and be good enough to keep them as he gave you time to figure out what to do with your life.

He imagined you would become a teacher of some sort, you enjoyed helping others and were great at explaining things, a kindergarten teacher maybe, that would fit his lovely girlfriend just fine, yeah. Then after a couple of years of hard work, he’d get promoted and ask you to officially be his wife, consummate the marriage by putting a baby in you, then maybe get a car and another promotion so you could stay home with the child.

You could say he had your life planed with intricate details, he even had ordered some furniture already that he was able to pay while working a part time in a coffee shop, unbeknownst to you.

He of course, got the internship and was able to find a lovely apartment not far from his office building, everything was ready for you two to venture out of the sorcery related world.

Or so he thought until you knocked on his door one night, a complicated expression on your face. “Is something wrong, love?” he moved to the side so you could go into his room, everything was mostly packed by then.

“The Kamo clan…they sent for me. They want me to raise their child, basically. Train him, teach him all he needs to know, from basic school subjects, to how to develop his blood technique. The headmaster…he agreed to this without my knowledge, I must depart tomorrow…” tears were running down your face, your eyes unfocused.

“No. This isn’t happening. We are leaving right now, go get your things, the apartment will be ready tomorrow we can just crash in a hotel nearby. Let’s go baby, don’t waste more time.” he finished packing his last bag, being stopped by your shaky hand.

“I can’t Kento. They said they’ll get your head on a plate if I ran away. I’m not putting you in any sort of danger, my love. I’ll go to them and be back as soon as I can. Maybe you can transfer to a Kyoto branch later on…I…I’m sorry, this is the only thing I can do to protect you…” you collapsed on the ground, his arms quick to catch you before you hurt yourself.

“Who said you had to protect me? I’m strong enough to kill them all. Nobody will get in our way. We finally made it this far, they can’t do this to us…” he punched the floor in rage, his anger materializing in the air.

“The Kamo clan is very powerful…I talked with Gojo-senpai, he didn’t recommend testing their patience….”

“I couldn't care less what he recommends or not, I won’t let you go, (Y/N) how am I supposed to live out our life plan without you in it?? We’ve worked so hard to get to this point…”

“Kento look at me.” you cupped his face gently before pressing a tender loving kiss to his lips, “I love you, nothing will ever change that. We just need to wait a little longer to get to the main goal. Let’s start by saving some money, if things get ugly we’ll figure out an escape route, ok? I don’t want you to lose your internship, I know how hard it is to get in. We can do this, love.”

And with a broken heart…you parted ways.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Turns out long distance relationships are a pain when you work twelve hours a day and your girlfriend has to put a young child to sleep early.

Nanami Kento got the promotions he wanted, his house was bigger now, his car the one he always dreamed of getting, yet the space beside him in his very large bed remained empty, cold, and could never find an owner since the day you left from Kyoto… ten years ago.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Masterlist Next Chapter

#jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu fanfic #jujutsu x reader #fluff #angst #slow burn #nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami

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dirtyspongesoften · 8 months

Text

Slut!

Jumin was a handsome man. He was dashingly handsome, an eligible bachelor, smart, rich. You managed to capture his heart, however the public did not agree with his view on you. But when you're with him, the sticks and stones they throw freeze mid air, because when it's just you and him, nothing else matters.

(If you couldn't tell already this is Taylor swift inspired, I think that in today's social media climate MC would definitely be criticized simply because people were jealous that she has the one thing they wanted, or people would definitely leave hate comments of some sort. But of course, her sweet, gentle, loving husband to be would smooth the creases between her brows and soothe all her worries.)

1.5k words

Jumin was one of Korea's most famous eligible bachelors, which changed when you waltzed into his life. You seduced him, black mailed him, and had been trained to do this. That was what the media said about you after the news aired the story of Jumin proposing to you at the RFA party. It had been almost a week since then, and the media still did not stop their endless commentary on the event. Of course they did not know what really happened, they thought you were there for money, for fame, for anything besides love. You tried desperately to ignore the comments, but after public outings with your fiance everything only got worse. More people discredited your love, they scrutinized the way you held his hand, the shoes you wore, the makeup applied to your face. It was hard to cope but here, in this moment all of that felt miles away.

The moon was full and high in the sky. It reflected off of his skin and made the pool look ethereal. You sat in Jumin's lap, his soft hands rested at your waist rubbing comforting circles there. He looked beautiful in the moonlight, his nose and dark hair made him look like a prince. You could feel him solid under your fingertips, he was real and he was yours. You whispered and giggled amongst yourselves, sharing kisses and expensive wine while relaxing in the rooftop pool of his penthouse.

“My love, would you like to come to the office tomorrow to have lunch with me? I would love to have you there to give me motivation.” you brushed the strands of wet hair off his forehead and gave him a chaste kiss.

“I would love to babe, it's just..” you trailed off remembering the comments you heard from the women in the bathroom, ‘she's pretty average, probably looks really bad underneath the makeup, she obviously has other assets that attracted him to her if you get what I mean’ they broke out into giggles ‘yeah, she looks like a slut’ another fit of giggles.

Jumin noticed how you went quiet and moved his hands from your waist to delicately cup your cheeks.

“Darling, what's wrong? Please tell me, we can fix whatever it is.” You were hesitant to say anything, out of fear of getting someone in trouble, or making things worse with the media. You quickly smiled at him and hid in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“Nothing, around what time would you like me to be there?”

“Are you sure? If someone at the office is saying something please tell me. I will take care of it.” Always so protective.

“It's nothing, I promise. Now what time would you like me to be there?”

“Around one, I'll have Mr. Kim come pick you up, are you sure though?��

“Yes Jumin, it's fine no one has said anything, I swear on everything I hold dear” You giggled as gave him a quick kiss and looked back while you sauntered out of the pool to get your towel. He quickly followed behind with the promise of a lovely night.

Around midday the next day you sat in your Pjs still, Jumins side of the bed had long gotten cold and it was just you scrolling through X (formerly twitter). You sat chewing your lip as you read another ridiculous article. You knew they were never good, but some small part of you hoped that someone would write a good article, that could show just even a bit of how much love you and Jumin shared. So sometimes you would stick around and read them, this one was about your age difference. You were 20 and he was 27 although the age gap was not illegal to many it seemed strange, almost predatory on his part, and definitely fetishizing on your part, according to them. When you first fell for each other you didn't consider the seven years between your ages. It was a big talking point for the media unfortunately. Your phone dinged with a notification, snapping you out of your thoughts. Mr. Kim was downstairs waiting and you had been so caught up in the article that you completely lost track of time. You text back a quick apology and explanation before you rush to get ready.

When you arrived to C&R there were a couple of paparazzi already gathered at the door. You felt like sobbing, how did they know about this?

Mr. Kim quickly came by to open your door and shield you from the harsh questions from the reporters and from the dizzying lights of the cameras.

“Mrs. Han, what are you wearing?”

“Mrs. Han, how much do you hope to get out of Jumin Han after your divorce ?” Your heart broke in two pieces.

“Mrs. Han, what do you think about E!News calling you a slut?” Your heart shattered in a million pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes as you walked through the grand glass doors. Jaehee had come down to greet you and as soon as you saw her, you threw yourself in her arms, sobbing.

“What happened, are you alright?” She repeatedly said your name to no avail as tears continued to flow down. She led you to the elevator where she separated herself from you and began to ask questions.

“Do you know who could have possibly sent the paparazzi? What did they say?” After being unsuccessful in her attempts to ask you questions she simply wrapped her arms around you. “You know Mr. Han will have this swiftly handled. I'm sorry this is happening.” The elevator suddenly dinged and you were aware of the fact that you had 5 seconds to make it look like you just hadn't been sobbing. You loved Jumin and the fact that he was so protective of you, but the last thing you needed was him fussing over this, he was already so busy. Your attempts at looking presentable failed and the door opened to reveal Jumin with a soft smile on his face, which quickly warped to worry upon seeing your disheveled state.

“My love, darling, what happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” He came to sweep you out of Jaehees arms and swiftly ran his hands on your body. He studied your face as you studied his worried expression.

“Mr. Han, there was paparazzi at the front, I'm assuming it had something to do with that.”

“Thank you Jaehee, you're dismissed.”

Jumin led you into his office, you saw the beautiful layout of food the chef had prepared but none of it seemed appetizing. How could they ask you that? How could they basically wish on the downfall of your marriage before it even happened?

“They asked me how much money I wanted to get out of you after our divorce, Jumin…were not even married, how horrible is that?” your voice came out suddenly, barely above a whisper. He quickly came to wrap his arms around you. His warmth was all around you and for a second everything stopped. You could feel his hair tickle the top of your and the scent of his cologne.

“My beautiful angel, I hate to see you cry like this, it makes my heart ache. Please do not listen to them, I will love you forever.” He brushed a stray tear off of your face. You sniffed and buried yourself into him further. “Let's go home okay? I'll take the rest of the day off.” You barely heard what he was saying as he called Jaehee to tell her that he would be taking the rest of the day off, you were too busy trying to get the paparazzis words out of your head.

When you both arrived home Jumin took your coat and purse and guided you into the bedroom. With soft hands and gentle words of affirmation he helped you into your pjs and into bed. He crawled in behind you, he placed your head on his chest. You could feel and hear his heart beating, through all of the horrible thoughts going through your head about what had happened, his heart beat, steady and true, was the one thing that could cut through the noise. You felt his hands smoothing down your hair. You felt at peace for once this entire day, you felt warm and comforted in his arms.

“You will always be the light of my life, no matter what people say, no matter what they wish for us, my love for you will never change ” You looked up to meet his eyes and saw nothing but adoration in them.

“I know Jumin, you're not the problem, it's what they say. It always gets to me unfortunately, but whenever I'm with you I know it's all worth it.” You warmly smiled up at him. You felt complete and whole, in this moment here. No one could take him from you, No one could take you from him. You could feel him rubbing comforting circles on your back, until you drifted off, feeling wholeheartedly content, that he was to be yours for the rest of eternity and that no matter what people said he would always be coming home to you, and you to him.

#jumin han x reader #jumin han #mysticism #mystic messenger #jumin x mc #mysme jumin

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serickswrites · 1 month

Text

Lonely Place of Longing

Master post here (includes character bios, summary, and chapter links)

Warnings: restraints, blood, cut, wounds, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee, captivity of sorts

“Welcome to Scutus, Halle Corvus,” Samuel Rex, spokesman of Scutus, said, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity,” Halle said enthusiastically. Halle had always wanted to make a difference with her life. She knew that Scutus—with their unprecedented efforts to keep the world safe—was the best way to do so. Though she had limited military training, and absolutely no background in technology management, somehow Halle had managed to get the job.

“Let me take you to your team. You’re going to be assigned to Alpha Team. They’re our most active. I’ll let Thomas Petri fill you in on your duties. He is your direct superior, team leader, and you are to report to him.”

“Understood. Thank you, Samuel.” Halle hurried along to follow Samuel. Though Samuel’s hair was grey and thinning, he was surprisingly spry for a man his age.

“There are several teams. But Alpha has the most unusual members. Ah, Thomas, there you are,” Samuel stopped in the hallway as he almost collided with a hulking figure. Thomas easily stood a head taller than Samuel. And a head and a half taller than Halle. He looked down at Halle with warm, dark eyes.

“You must be my new medic.”

Halle nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir! I won’t let you down.”

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. They’re in our portion of Tectus. What has Samuel told you about our team?” Thomas walked quickly. Halle had to half jog to keep up.

“That you are very active as a team. And that you have…” Halle’s voice trailed off. How would Thomas take to having his team called unusual?

“We have a pretty big team. I’ll introduce you to them all in time. But I have to warn you. We have something assigned to our unit that makes us indispensable. Your job will be to manage and take care of that thing.”

“I won’t let you down. I promise,” Halle said eagerly.

“Do you know what a living weapon is, Halle?” Thomas asked, completely ignoring Halle’s promises.

Halle stopped walking. A living weapon. She had heard of them of course. But never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever see one, let alone work with one. They were supposedly the most dangerous assets Scutus had at their disposal. Their enemies, of course, also had living weapons. A great number of them. Weapons were allegedly easily corruptible. Weapons were typically very, very evil. They had to be kept under lock and key at all times. Halle nodded. “They’re a human, well they were human to start with. And they’ve been imbued with…”

“With powers that make them more dangerous than an army of regular soldiers.”

Halle swallowed. So it was true. Living weapons really could level a city by themselves.

“We have one. He’s called Dylan. Your job is simple, Halle. Keep Dylan alive. Patch him up when we bring him back. And keep him in his quarters. He isn’t to be trusted with any freedom. No matter how much he asks, you can never let him out of our quarters unsupervised. Do I make myself clear?”

Halle nodded.

“And, Halle, please remember he is dangerous. He is deadlier than any gun, knife, or projectile you will ever see. Please remember that.”

Halle nodded again and continued to follow Thomas. She half heartedly listened to Thomas introduce her to Alpha Team. Over a dozen names and faces to memorize. But none of them were the weapon. And Halle’s mind kept drifting to the weapon. What was he like? What were his powers? Would he hurt Halle? Would he try to escape and hurt the rest of the team?

After what felt like hours of introductions, but Halle realized it may have only been half an hour, Thomas was leading her away from the rest of the team. “Dylan’s room is down this hall. I hope you don’t mind, it’s where we had to put your room.” Thomas looked a touch embarrassed. “No one wants to stay down here near him. I’ve put in a work order to repurpose our library into a living quarters. Once that’s nearly ready we can convert your room to the library and then you can move. I’m sorry.”

No one even wanted to sleep near the weapon. How evil was he? “It’s ok. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Thank you.” Thomas knocked loud and hard on a door at the end of the hall.

“Dylan! Open up!” Thomas called gruffly. “You have a new keeper. Come meet her!”

The door swung open to reveal a small, spartan room. A bed was tucked into a corner, blanket neatly tucked in. A desk was not too far from there, a small stack of books and papers in the center. Halle could see a small balcony, opposite the door, that overlooked Tectus’s grounds. Halle swallowed as she realized the balcony was caged in. The other window had bars. There was no escaping this room.

Thomas strode into the center of the room and turned to face the door. “Dylan, meet Halle Corvus. Halle this is Dylan.”

Dylan leaned against the wall. His pale blonde hair curled softly at his collar and he watched Halle with icy blue eyes. He was tall and lean, though his build didn’t betray the power that lurked beneath. His clothes were plain—black shirt tucked into black pants, with black boots. The only thing adorning him were the silvery cuffs at his wrists—cuffs that Halle knew kept him from accessing his power.

“Nice to meet you, Halle,” Dylan said, his voice surprisingly soft. Halle fully expected his voice to be low, grating. She didn’t expect a soft, pleasant sounding voice.

Halle swallowed twice before replying. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted. Dylan you are to give Halle a run down of your medical history and what she may need to know to be better than your last keeper. Actually, you can also let her patch up that cut from our mission this morning. It’s a small one, Halle. Won’t take you that long. I’ll check back in with you, Halle, in,” Thomas looked at his watch, “an hour. I have a briefing with Delta Team to get to.”

Before Halle could protest, Thomas left. Halle stood in the center of the room, her heart in her throat. Thomas left her alone. With a living weapon. A being so dangerous he was kept in a room that was essentially a cage. And he had his powers suppressed at all times.

“Are you afraid of me?” Dylan asked quietly. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t attempted to get closer to Halle. Hadn’t tried to run out the door behind Thomas.

Halle licked her suddenly dry lips. “Yes.”

Dylan nodded. “Good. You should be.” He crossed the room and flopped onto his stomach on the bed. Halle could see a long, still bleeding cut, running the length of the weapon’s back from his left shoulder to his right hip.

The weapon propped his head up on his arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you unless Thomas tells me to.”

“Do you always do as Thomas asks?”

The weapon lay his cheek on his arm. “Yes. I am to always listen to Thomas.” The weapon sighed. “The last one didn’t last long. There’s no shame in quitting. I won’t blame you.”

“What?”

“My last keeper. He quit after three days. It’s ok if you are too scared. You can quit. Everyone does eventually.” The weapon seemed to say the last more to himself than Halle.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” If she got to work she could ignore the weapon and his ice cold eyes.

“In my med bay.”

“You have your own?” This unit was much fancier than Halle thought. Each member got their own private med bay. Just how large was this space?

The weapon closed his eyes as though he was suddenly very weary. “No one wanted to share with me.”

Halle was silent. What do you even say to that? She looked around for the door to the med bay.

“You don’t need to dress it, Halle. It will clot soon. Probably.”

“You’ll ruin your sheets.”

“Isn’t the first time. Won’t be the last time.”

Halle very much did not want to be alone in the room with the weapon any longer. But she had a job to do. So she crossed the room to a door that she thought might lead to another room. She was right. The med bay was well stocked. She grabbed some gauze and anti septic so she could dress the wound.

Halle worked in silence. And the weapon was silent. Halle expected him to fill Halle in on his medical history while she worked. Expected him to say anything. But the weapon merely lay there and let Halle clean and dress the wound. “I don’t think it needs stitches. But I could glue it if—“

“It’s fine, Halle.” The weapon pulled his shirt off and over his head. His back and chest were littered with scars, some older, some newer. “Here’s my medical history. I can’t get sick. I can’t remember if I did before…before I came here.”

Halle marveled at the scars. How was the weapon still alive? Some of them were serious, grievous wounds. “Anything else I should know?”

The weapon shook his head. He opened another door to reveal a small closet. He tossed the soiled shirt into a bin. He pulled another shirt from the drawer and put it on. “I am glad to meet you, Halle. No matter how long you stay here.”

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

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#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #tw restraints #tw blood #tw wounds #tw cuts #hurt/aftermath #hurt/comfort #caretaker and whumpee #tw captivity #of sorts #'lonely place of longing'#my ocs

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