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#at the formal reading of the innocence i remember tearing up a bit. until the above occured to me
Friendly reminder: the second inquiry into the 1972 Bloody Sunday deaths of 14 unarmed men merely declared them posthumously innocent. It did NOT charge their murderers, who still walk free.
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ratmonky · 3 years
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Curse of Innocence
A gift to my best friend for an eternity, @anti-interesting​
Word Count: 18.2K
Warnings: dub-con, gaslighting, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, cuckolding, bullying, obsession, alcohol
AO3 Link
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“Ya heard?”
“Heard what?” Geto asked with a sigh, exhaling his smoke along the way and watching Gojo munch on an anpan. That guy was eating too many sweets nowadays, he was going to gain weight.
“Apparently, there’s gonna be someone transferring here next semester.” Gojo took another bite from his snack and chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “Shoko said it’s gonna be a girl.”
“So what?” Geto raised a brow. It would be good for Shoko, there weren’t many girls on the campus, it would definitely mean that they could slip away from doing all the cleaning in the dorms as well.
“I call dibs.” A sinister smile was on his face.
Geto paused for a moment to stare at his friend and snorted. “You’re such a lout.” He pretended to wipe an imaginary tear from his eye. “She’s probably like Shoko, don’t get your hopes up.”
“Nooo, I heard she’s a pipsqueak. Preciously charming and weak, at least according to Nanami who met her when she was visiting.” Gojo’s smile widened, eyes sparkling with dark intent. “Well, it doesn’t matter, since you’re not interested, it means I didn’t even need to call dibs, huh?”
Silence.
It had been a while since the last girl had dropped out. They were already going to become third years soon and it was boring here. Shoko wasn’t dumb enough to fall for their tricks or be a part of them and there weren’t any other girls around.
This new girl could change it. She could be the new entertainment.
“Hey,” Geto started, he was trying really hard to not let his lips curl up into a smile but he was failing. Gojo noticed it, eyes squinting and waiting for what his friend had to say. “Wanna go halfsies instead?”
~~~
The campus looked larger and more elegant than your previous sorcerer academy, you were impressed if not relieved. Although there were too many buildings and it was covered by trees, you hoped you could feel at home once you settled.
“So, what do you think?” Shoko suddenly asked.
You were hurrying after her with your bags and luggage. You nodded and when you realized she couldn’t see you since she was walking ahead, you spoke. “I think here is where I belong! It’s quite large and quiet, I love it!”
“I’m glad you think so, it’s large but it’s easy to get lost so make sure to not wander off alone.” She turned to look at you and flashed a smile. “Let’s move on to the dormitory.”
Finally, you were in front of a huge compound-like traditional house.
“This is the dormitory. Both girls and boys use it. Well, we have separate wards and bathrooms but we all stay in this building, it’s our duty to keep it clean and stock up the necessities with the allowance the academy gives us.”
Your mouth opened in admiration, the place was huge. Bigger than your parents’ house. Double… no triple the size of their house.
Shoko opened the door and invited you in. The entrance was small, you took off your shoes.
“Leave your bags here, I’ll first show you the left-wing of the building.”
Nodding, you followed Shoko towards the common room and the kitchen.
“We all hang out here mostly, the guys usually rent movies on Saturdays so they do movie nights here. The kitchen always needs to be clean. Do not leave any dishes out to do them later, wash them right away or put them in the machine. Then there’s this coffee machine-” Her shoulders slouched and she sighed as she showed you the broken handle by pointing a finger at it. “It’s broken but don’t throw it out. We use the oven mittens to grab the decanter. If you want coffee in the morning, come by at seven sharp because Nanami often gets over himself and drinks the whole thing.”
“It’s fine,” you said, putting a hand on your hip. “I like instant coffee better, it’s more convenient and easier to make when I want more. You don’t need to make extra coffee for me or anything. I even brought some with me.”
Shoko raised her brows and smiled at your feigned solace. It was easy to tell, acting confident when your hands were shaking from trying to keep up the facade. “Make sure to hide your coffee then, we share the place with two greedy guys and another caffeine addict like me. But again, I wouldn’t mind sharing my coffee with you, it’s practically nothing too important so don’t hesitate to take some.”
The two of you continued chatting before finally, Shoko took you towards the library and the study rooms after passing the dining hall.
“We have a bigger library but this is for when we need to study here. The books are all about curses, sorcery, and the history of sorcerers.” Shoko said, leaning against the door frame and watching you admire the books she knew no other library had.
Your eyes landed on a hardcover book and you gasped in excitement. “I can’t believe this! You guys have a copy of Sukuna’s Impact on the Japanese History?”
Shoko smiled smugly, “It’s the original.”
“Ahh, you’re so lucky.” You put the book back and smiled at her. “My previous academies only taught us about clans and curses, this is like on another level for me. I’m so happy I transferred here. It’s nice to finally become a student in one of only two of the best jujutsu schools.”
“You know…” Shoko pointed at the book you put back, “You can take it.”
“Can I?” You beamed, your cheeks flushing.
“Well, it’s here so the students can read it. You can take and read any book you like as long as you’re going to return them.”
You gently pulled the book out from the shelf and held it against your chest with both arms wrapped around it. “I’m gonna read this tonight.”
“Knock yourself up,” she chuckled, the boyish and geeky side of you was already showing through.
While you were lost in your thoughts, planning how you were going to read about that one curse anatomy book you saw after this one, Shoko’s voice filled your ears. “At the end of this hall is the laundry room. There’s an equipment room and a large pantry.” She snapped her fingers as if to remember something, “Ah yes, cleaning supplies are also in the laundry room. Nanami will show you those on Sunday, we all clean the whole building weekly.”
You nodded slowly, processing all this information.
“Now, it’s time I show you to your room…” Shoko walked past you and back to the common room and then to the entrance once again.
Quickly, grabbing your bags, you followed her to the right side of the building. This side was broader. She slid open the door and continued walking in a straight line. “Here’s the boys’ dorm.” Her eyes landed on the stairs leading upstairs. “Ours is upstairs. It’s divided poorly, I know.”
You sighed and she chuckled. Climbing the stairs was hard when you had so many bags with you.
Shoko slid open the door and ignored a couple of doors until she reached the one that had her name on it, “This is my room, yours is next to mine.” She pointed at the door next to hers before fishing out a pair of keys from her pocket. “There you go.”
You took the keys after putting down one of your bags. “Why are there so many?”
“It’s for the entire campus. One for the library, our rooms, the building’s door, and many more that you’ll figure out on Monday.”
“Okay.” You looked around and saw that there was another door at the end of the hall.
“Behind that is the girls’ bathroom. Leave that sliding door open after you’ve taken a shower otherwise it gets really foggy on the other side of the hall.” Shoko put her hand on her hips and rested her weight on one leg. “That’s it. You can get settled now. I’ll call you out for dinner.”
You bowed down slightly, “Thank you for showing me around. I hope we get along well, Ieiri.”
“Ah, you’re being too formal! Please call me Shoko.” Shoko grinned but bowed her head out of habit. “Let’s get along well, (name).”
Smiling, you repeated her name quietly. Perhaps the two of you could be really close friends even though you were going to be here for a year.
“One last thing,” Shoko said, just as you had unlocked the door to your room. “It’s a piece of advice from me.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t let the boys see you as weak. They’ll tease you for it.” She looked serious, her friendly smile and big, wide eyes were gone, replaced by a frown and half-lidded look.
“I can handle a little bit of teasing!” You were grinning, putting on the facade again. “Besides if you don’t get teased for being weak, how will you get determined to improve yourself, haha, right?”
Shoko didn’t answer.
Your smile slowly faded.
“Just… be careful.” She turned around on her heels. “Nanami’s fine, though. At least I think so.”
That was the last thing she said before walking away from you and sliding the door to the hall closed, leaving you confused.
Dumbfounded, you walked inside your own room, hoping that you could get the most out of your senior year here in Tokyo Jujutsu High. Unaware of the things to come.
~~~
As soon as Shoko put a foot down on the main floor, she heard the chatter coming from the common room.
She exited the dormitory and slid the door closed behind her. When she arrived at the common room, she found Geto giving Nanami a pack of cigarettes.
“Yo, Shoko!” Gojo waved at her from the couch he was sitting on. “Did the girl settle in yet? What does she look like? Does she have big boo-”
Geto slammed his fist on top of Gojo’s head. “Ah, Shoko, your brand of cigarettes was sold out, I bought the same brand as mine.” Retrieving his hand from the dumb one’s head, he reached inside the plastic bag and pulled out the pack to hold it towards her.
Shoko’s eyes were on Nanami as she walked closer to Geto and snatched her pack. “Thanks.”
Nanami hid his in the hidden pocket of his school jacket before speaking. “I didn’t know you were here, Ieiri.”
“You started smoking a little too early, Nanami,” Shoko squinted her eyes in irritation. “And you, why are you buying cigarettes for him? Shouldn’t you be an example of a great senior year jujutsu student?” She was pointing at Geto who shrugged his shoulders with a grin.
“What? Are ya gonna rat on us?” Gojo grinned as well and got up from the couch to pat Nanami on the back. “Besides, Nanami’s a responsible adult now, he bought it himself!”
Nanami nodded reluctantly to confirm.
“He turned eighteen barely a week ago.” Shoko rolled her eyes and her eyes landed on Geto holding his pack of cigarettes out to her. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Here.”
“Why?”
“So you won’t tell anyone.” Geto was smirking. “Also a gift before you leave for your training.”
“That’s a cheap bribe.” Shoko took the pack with an eerie smile.
“She took it anyway,” Nanami scoffed softly.
“They’re scary~” Gojo leaned towards Nanami. “Smokers are easy to bribe with more of those killer sticks.”
“What’s for dinner?” Nanami then asked, ignoring the idiot.
“Since I’m on kitchen duty tonight, I was thinking curry and rice, since it’ll be five of us from now on so we can’t eat takeout all the time.” Shoko put the cigarette packs in her coat pockets and walked towards the kitchen. “It’d be nicer if one of you helped me cook too.”
Both Geto and Gojo put a hand on Nanami’s back to push him forward.
When Shoko glanced over her shoulder, it looked like Nanami was silently following her to the kitchen to help her. “Thanks, Nanami, I appreciate it.”
While the second year was glowering at the other two seniors for sacrificing him, Geto took out another pack of cigarettes he had hidden in his pants’ pocket.
“I’m gonna go out for a smoke,” he said, informing his friend.
Without saying anything, Gojo followed him out. They walked down a path leading to Geto’s secret smoking spot.
“We didn’t get any first years this semester,” Gojo pouted. “I was looking forward to it.”
“You just want them to idolize you,” Geto tore the packaging of the cigarettes open and pulled one out, putting it between his lips.
“I just wanna have younger people cheer for me! I miss being told how great I am!” Gojo pouted, acting cutesy. “Nobody praises me anymore.”
Geto lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, “We’re not children anymore, that’s why.”
“It motivates me when someone tells me I’m strong~” He leaned his back against a tree and looked at his friend over his sunglasses. “I bet, the new girl will be all over me.”
“Maybe she will,” he answered, exhaling the smoke with a smirk. “Shall we do the friendly and stoic guy gimmick again or try something else?”
“Nuh-uh! Overly friendly classmates! That always works!” Gojo laughed to himself and paused. “I just got shivers thinking about it.” Wrapping his arms around himself, Gojo trembled. “Ahh, I hope she’s the errand girl type.”
“Why?”
“Those are easier to trick.”
Geto hummed before nodding languidly. “You’re right. They are also considerably obedient, they’d do anything to not upset anyone.”
“A people pleaser like that girl who dropped out! They are pretty adorable,” Gojo chuckled. “Ahh, what was her name again?”
Shrugging, Geto took a whiff of his cigarette before giving a blatant reply. “Who knows.”
~~~
When there was a knock on your door, you were already done packing and were reading the book you had borrowed from the library.
Closing the book and putting a small divider on the page you were reading, you walked up to the door.
Although you were expecting Shoko to be on the other side when you opened the door, there was a blonde guy standing in the hall.
“Hii,” you chirped. “I think we met before!” It took you a small pause to remember his name. “Nanamin… right?”
“Nanami,” he corrected, looking anywhere but at your face to avoid making eye contact. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Sorry… Thanks for letting me know.”
As he was getting ready to turn around and leave you walked out of your room, closing the door behind you to tail after him.
Not really the type to enjoy small talk, Nanami felt obliged to say something when the two of you reached the stairs. “It’s curry and rice.”
“Hmm?”
“The food. It’s dinner and rice.”
“Ahh, it had been a while since I last ate curry. Did you cook it?”
“I only helped Ieiri to make rice.”
“That’s still cooking,” you giggled and offered him a pat on the back. “Next time I need someone to cook rice, I know who to call.”
Nanami chuckled at that.
You were also grinning like an idiot, stupidly happy for no reason other than managing to make him chuckle.
Inside the dining hall, Shoko was already seated, Nanami quickly sat on an empty chair.
“Nice dress,” Shoko commented when she saw you bouncing on your heels, unsure of where to sit. Twirling around to show off your dress, you thanked her with a smile. Soon after she pointed at a seat next to hers, “You can sit here.”
“How many are we?” you asked, noticing how there were only two more plates placed down on the table.
Before Shoko could answer, two guys entered the dining hall, laughing merrily.
You turned around and stared at the guy with raven black hair, it was half tied up, his hair was long and silky, dark eyes blinked before they landed on you. His lips curled up to a smile.
The guy beside him was grinning from ear to ear. “You must be the new girl!” Either the guy was a loud fellow or he was very nervous talking to you because his voice got only louder each time he opened his mouth to speak. “Ugh, it’s very nice to meet you, hope we get along well.” He rubbed his neck nervously, “I’m Satoru Gojo!!” His tone changed into something a lot softer and his cheeks flushed pink. It was even more noticeable when he reached in for a handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Gojo,” you replied and took his hand. “I’m (name).”
“You have such a nice name, perfectly fitted for a girl like you,” he smiled. And with that, he blushed even harder.
“Thank you,” you chuckled, your cheeks also blushing a little because of the intensity of his stare.
Gojo then encouraged another man who looked a similar age to you to introduce himself as well but the guy didn’t. He stared at you instead. His dark eyes wandered on your face for a moment too long before he clicked his tongue with a smile. And while you were staring back at him, you noticed something. He was magnetic almost, pulling you towards himself.
He reached in to shake your hand, “Suguru Geto.”
“(n-name).” Sharply gasping, your cheeks flushed and your heart started throbbing hastily in your chest but you tried to look indifferent. “N-nice to meet you two.”
He and the other guy exchanged a knowing look with each other when you stuttered.
~~~
“Argh! I thought we were both going for the friendly and shy guy!” Gojo rubbed his nose bridge while cringing. “You made me look sooo stupid. I told you to stop with the stoic guy thing!”
Geto was indifferent as he flipped a page of his book. “Well, she fell for it anyway.”
“You’re trying to steal her, right?” Gojo started pacing around the room. “I should’ve known! Ahh, you’re so scary, I hate you.”
“That’s not it.” Geto closed his book with a sigh, keeping a finger between the pages to not lose which page he was reading. “She’ll trust me and come to me if things get out of hand instead of going directly to someone else. We have to think ahead or it’ll end up like the others.”
“Still, you could’ve told me something before I embarrassed myself! Nanami and Shoko were holding in their laughs ya know!”
“You always make a fool of yourself so what’s the difference?”
Gojo visibly tensed, Geto had managed to get on his nerves.
“I apologize,” Geto said to avoid conflict. “Since I upset you, I’ll let you take the first step.”
With that his friend pushed his sunglasses up to his hair, smiling foolishly. “That’s very generous of ya.”
Geto realized he may have made a mistake to let Gojo take the lead. His friend enjoyed watching more than being a part of it.
~~~
The next day, your uniform came.
“It’s cute,” Shoko said, looking up from the magazine she was reading.
“Really? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have a gakuen-like uniform. Does it suit me?” You frowned as you struck poses in front of the mirror.
“What’s important is if you can move in it. You’re going to wear that while fighting curses.” She sat up on your bed to get a better look at your uniform.
“You’re right…” You smoothed the fabric of your skirt and decided that it was perfect. “I think I like it.” Turning around to face Shoko, you smiled. “It’s so unfortunate that you’re going away to train as soon as I start though…”
“I’m not exactly the fighter type, I’m trying to become an autopsy technician after I get my degree.” Shoko mirrored your smile. “So you better be careful on your missions or I might be the one to dissect you.”
“I could never look at a dead body yet you’re willing to do that as a job?” You got goosebumps on your skin, “You must be very strong!”
“Mentally? Yes. Physically? Not at all.”
“By the way… why do you wanna become a jujutsu sorcerer?” As simple as the question was, it differed from person to person. Nobody wanted to become a jujutsu sorcerer for the fun of it.
Taken aback, it took her a long moment before she answered. “Money, not being sure what to do with the power to see curses, not having a future as a normal civilian. I don’t know, could be all of them at once.” She noticed your smile widening as if you were fascinated by her choice of path for the future. “What about you?”
Your answer was quick, you said it with your whole chest, eyes twinkling with determination. “To protect people from curses and collect all of Sukuna’s fingers.”
“Woah, talk about being selfless,” Shoko joked but you didn’t laugh. “While I’m away, you should hang out with Nanami and avoid conflict. Heated arguments can make all the hell break lose.”
You nodded in response.
“You don’t like to be seen as selfless, huh?” She didn’t want to leave for the internship tomorrow like this. It was clear you were upset. “Is there a special reason for you to hate it?”
You fidgeted with your fingers, confident and cheerful girl facade wavering yet again. “It makes people think that I’m weak. That I wanna become a sorcerer to feel better about myself when I actually wanna do something good with the power I was gifted.”
Ahh, the type who wanted to leave an impact. Rather, desperate to have some sort of validation.
At that moment, Shoko pitied you. “You care what people think about you, don’t you?”
“I… do.” Shoulders slouched and with those fidgeting fingers, you looked anything but confident.
“What others may think of you doesn’t truly define you. It’s hard to accept but not everyone will like you. It’s impossible to be loved by everyone, so you should worry about getting your degree along with your sorcery license.”
She was trying to encourage you but it felt more like a talk some adult would give to a kid that wouldn’t stop crying.
“Y-yeah, I’ll do that.”
Shoko got up from your bed and ruffled your hair, “You have my number and email address. You can contact me whenever you wanna.”
With the mood lightening, you were able to fix your posture and nod rapidly. “Same goes for you too!”
~~~
Monday started with you and the others seeing Shoko off from the bus station. The four of you took the bus that came after hers.
“This bus goes all the way to the stop by the campus and down to here.” Nanami handed you a card. “Ieiri told me to give this to you. It’s a transportation card. Works with everything.”
You took the card and thanked him as you put it in. “Tokyo is a bigger city than I thought.”
“Let’s see,” Gojo turned around his seat to stare at you and Nanami. He clasped his chin between his thumb and knuckle, thinking carefully. “There were two different curses reported around here. We should split up and meet back up in the dormitory when we’re done.”
“Wait,” you said, chuckling nervously. “We’re gonna deal with curses by ourselves? Without a supervisor?”
Three of them stared at you in the same confusion you were looking at them.
“We learn on the field after the first year,” Geto explained. “Most of the schedule for us is exorcising curses. We don’t have classes on campus nowadays either. Our teacher is abroad.”
“B-but isn’t it dangerous to exorcise curses without a teacher or a professional sorcerer around?”
“Was that how it worked back in your previous schools?” Nanami was trying to be understanding, you clearly weren’t confident in your abilities or needed supervision.
“Y-yeah. I-I mean curses can be really dangerous and we’re still not professionals.”
“You’re overthinking it!” Gojo said, looking at you over his sunglasses. “We can go together, you and me. I’m the strongest so you don’t need to worry about anything.”
Geto sighed, glancing over his shoulder to look at Nanami. “You’re okay with being paired up with me?”
Nanami shrugged.
“Great!” Gojo pressed the stop button attached to the pole. “(name), come on! This is our stop.”
Nanami got up from his seat to let you follow after Gojo towards the bus door.
“It’s only my first day…” You hesitated.
“You’ll do fine,” Geto encouraged, “Satoru will help you out.”
You blushed faintly and bowed your head in acknowledgment as the vehicle rolled to a stop.
“Satoru, don’t force her too much on her first day.” Geto was smirking when the doors opened.
“Sure sure. I won’t.” Gojo waved at him lazily and got off the bus with you. He turned around, stretching his arms over his head before talking. “Do you use cursed tools to exorcise curses?”
“Sometimes-”
Without letting you finish your words, Gojo pulled out a dagger from the inner pocket of his jacket. “You’ll need this then. Curses here in Tokyo are intelligent.”
Grabbing the dagger from him, you nodded sluggishly. “O-okay.”
Once you put the dagger in your utility belt, he draped his arm over your shoulder and started walking, leading you towards an alleyway. “Now, tell me all about yourself! I need to know everything.” He was pressing you to his side, his hand on your shoulder slowly slid down to your waist.
“Um, Gojo… this is a little t-too close,” you mumbled shyly.
Gojo leaned down, his face got awfully close to yours. He managed to bite down the urge to grin. “Sorry, what’s that? I didn’t hear what you said.”
You were completely silent, blushing in embarrassment and looking away. “N-nothing.”
“Hmm.” His fingers pressed on your hip, caressing your skin over the fabric of your skirt softly. “How have you been liking Tokyo and our college so far?” he asked, leading you down another street.
“It’s been barely three days… but I can say that it’s different from where I come from.” That was all you had to say as you tried to not give much thought to his hand on your hip. You dipped your head in a nod when he gestured towards another alleyway.
“You’ll love it here! Shoko said she liked you already and I can tell we’re gonna be really close too!” he laughed, his smile was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile despite being uncomfortable. “Maybe you’ll even befriend Suguru in the future!”
“I-is it hard to befriend him?” Oh, so innocent.
“Definitely,” Gojo let out a dramatic sigh. “He doesn’t trust people that easily but I hope you’ll be able to see him smile one day. It’s a sight ya don’t see often.”
“How could I befriend him?” you politely asked.
“By befriending me!” he replied, his thumb drawing circles over your clothes. “It took me two whole years to gain his respect ya know. I can help speed up the progress by telling ya all about him.”
To move away from his hand without saying anything that might make you seem like such a prude, you pressed yourself flush against his side but it only made everything worse. His hand slid further down your hips, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and-
“Don’t!” you suddenly said, pushing him away from yourself.
Gojo looked dumbfounded and confused as to why you were upset. “What happened?”
“It’s just…” The expression on his face made you feel guilty. He clearly had no ulterior intentions or anything. You were overreacting. You had to be overreacting.
“Ahh.” He softly slapped a hand on his forehead, “Sorry, I must’ve been too friendly. I’m the type to be comfortable around friends pretty easily. Shoko told me to be careful but I clearly failed, so sorry again if I made you uncomfortable,” he said, catching you off guard.
Your heart shattered into a million pieces. Now, you were going to be known as some prude who thought everyone who came close to you was after you.
“N-no, I was the one overreacting. I-it was just too overwhelming for me I guess, I don’t know. Please don’t blame yourself!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gojo said, smiling brokenly. “I’m used to it.”
You had messed up already. It was only your first day but you had already managed to make the cheerful guy somber.
“The curse is in that abandoned building,” he pointed towards a two-floored apartment building, changing the subject. “Let’s exorcise it and return back to the campus.”
It was silent between you up until you arrived at the building and entered it.
“I’ll check upstairs so you should check here.” Gojo’s tone was colder than ice, it lacked the usual chipper you had grown used to in such a short time. “Just call out my name if you need help.”
“Yessir!” you chirped, trying to ease the mood. To add to the goofiness, you saluted but Gojo didn’t do anything more than stare at you blankly. Somehow, it made you feel even worse. Now, you were both embarrassed and guilty.
Quietly, Gojo climbed up the stairs, leaving you alone.
Ugh! This was the worst. What Shoko had said before had scared you and put you on the edge around the guys. You had to be out of your mind to ruin your relationships with your classmates over a possible prank Shoko had pulled on you.
“Help-”
You jolted, listening carefully.
It was quiet again.
Maybe it was your imagination.
“Help!”
This time it was loud and clear, you walked further inside the building and listened again. “Hello?”
“Over here.”
The voice was coming from upstairs.
“Gojo! Are you hearing this?!”
No response.
A sudden rush of panic took over your senses.
Was Gojo hurt?
Unconscious?
Was he ignoring you?
Was it all of the above?
Without any hesitation, you climbed up the stairs and walked along the long hallway until you reached a dead end.
A low growl filled your ears and cold shivers went down your spine. You could feel the presence of something evil behind you, something with a ton of cursed energy. Definitely not a low-grade curse, maybe a grade one but nothing lower than that.
Turning around was a simple task, you could have done it solely by thinking about doing it but your legs wouldn’t budge. Your hand that was clutching on your belt to pull out the cursed tool Gojo had given you was shaking violently, nevertheless how you had exorcised some other curses in the past, this was the first time you were facing one alone, without anyone watching over you.
The cursed energy coming from the creature filled all of your senses and wrecked your nerves. It was as if you were drowning after being stung by a jellyfish, the shock was making you unable to move and although you were about to die, you couldn’t do anything about it.
What a way to go!
Dying on your first day on the field after embarrassing yourself in front of a classmate who clearly was defeated by this curse, otherwise, where could he be?
A sharp breath left your lips when the curse abruptly pulled you into its skin, absorbing you into its flesh and many hands it had started groping you.
The hands were going under your skirt, caressing your inner thighs, fondling your tits as you sank deeper into its flesh without fighting back. Then there was the wetness, warm, slick muscle wrapped around your throat before moving up towards your face. It was a tongue you realized. The wet muscle forced itself between your lips and pried your jaw open to snake itself down your throat.
Tears started streaming down your face right away. Multiple hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thighs and tits roughly as the tongue started swirling around in your mouth. Foreign feelings of all of the hands and a wet muscle grazing the back of your throat were too overwhelming, your head got lightweight, eyes rolling up. You were about to lose consciousness, it had to be the curse’s doing.
“Ah, you’ve found the curse.” Gojo’s voice was the last thing you heard before your vision went dark.
Gojo on the other hand was smirking, secretly glad that you weren’t able to see his cock swelling up under his pants as he was watching you get violated by the curse. Your body was still reacting to its tongue moving inside your mouth, eyelashes fluttering, and legs desperately trying to press together from involuntary pleasure.
It was quite a sight to see. Having your legs spread open by many hands of the curse that was ignoring him wasn’t something he had been exactly planning to see today but he was grateful nonetheless.
The hands that were spreading your legs moved further up towards your inner thighs, hiking your skirt up completely before another hand helplessly tried to tore your panties off of you.
Now, it was going a little too far.
“Over the clothes is fine but trying to touch her bare skin… you’re getting ahead of yourself, you shrimp.” Gojo rolled his eyes, curses could be excessively selfish, thinking that they own everything.
With a flick of his finger, he exorcised the curse in an instant. Its body exploded into a million different pieces and your body, released from its groping hands fell on the ground in a silent thud.
The next thing that echoed in the empty building was the sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper being undone.
~~~
You jolted awake, eyes wet with tears and body trembling.  
“Hey,” Gojo’s voice above you was worried yet calming. “It’s just a nightmare, I’m here. You’re safe.”
You were being torn apart, emotions a wreck that couldn’t be fixed. Memories of what had happened washed over you frantically, leaving you breathless. Your arms quickly reached for the only person in front of you, begging for his closeness to feel comfort.
Gojo’s reaction was a bit delayed, but he carefully wrapped his arms around you and almost immediately you started sobbing pathetically.
The curse was gone, you couldn’t feel its presence. He must have exorcised it to save you. All you ever did today was to cause trouble for him.
“Sorry,” you said quietly, in between sobs.
“Hey, there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Gojo’s voice was soft like honey, his sunglasses were pushed up to his hair and he was holding you in his lap. “Are you alright? Have you calmed down a bit?”
You frowned, tears gushing out from your eyes again. “I-I was so scared.”
“Anyone would be.” With your head pressed on his chest, you could hear his chest rumbling as he spoke. “You’re safe now.”
You sobbed as you remembered what had happened once again.
“What happened?” he asked, lulling you into a false sense of comfort, pulling you closer towards the trap.
You told him your story, slowly, a little at a time with small breaks of you crying.
You were raised in the hopes of becoming the head of your clan, forced to act tough, and were taught to be caring and loving yet you had never received any real love or care from anyone. You were in no way treated fairly by anyone.
So you had assumed the role of the caretaker of others with a facade of a motherly figure. You helped others and hoped to get happiness in return but in no way it was as easy as you had hoped. People were only loving to you when you were doing something for them in return and that was how you noticed you could be loved. By being useful to others. And eventually the habit of taking care of others to feel validated developed inside you. However that also became a problem, you were now being seen as weak, someone who could never lead others. Then you were sent to many different jujutsu colleges in the hopes that you could become somewhat more courageous and leader-like.
But that never happened, you couldn’t change what you were or what others would think of you no matter what. You felt lost for many years.
Later after being told that the Tokyo Jujutsu High could be the one to fix you, you had transferred here overnight.
You had thought moving to Tokyo was going to be like any other place but as soon as you arrived at the campus and met the others, you felt the warm feeling of a home. You realized you belonged here.
People here treated you like a person. Like you were a part of whatever they had going on here without judging you for being weak like any other people you had met so far would.
For a while, he was oddly quiet. He listened to your sobbing and sharp inhales until they calmed down.
“Well,” Gojo pressed his cheek on top of your head, arms tightening around you and legs moving to bring you closer on his lap.  “What can I do to ease your pain?”
You pressed a hand on your cheek to wipe your tears to save yourself from the stickiness but most of it was dried snot, or at least that was what you thought it was. “Right now, I just wanna go home. I feel so dirty…”
“Yeah,” he spoke into your hair, taking a long whiff. “Smells like you need a shower.”
The reason why you were crying past forgotten, a laugh escaped you and you smacked your hand on his chest playfully. “Hey!”
“Whaaaat? You stink!” Gojo used his thumb and forefinger to press his nostrils together as he grimaced.
Pausing, you looked up to him through your lashes, suddenly self-conscious. “D-do I?”
Gojo’s arms around you were kind of pressing you down onto his crotch and his flip phone was poking your ass but you tried to ignore it, you didn’t want to cause another misunderstanding as he leaned forward towards you. “Let me check again.”
He pressed his nose into your hair but you didn’t hear him inhaling. When you turned to look at him, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Face completely blushed, your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat.
After a long sniff, his hand on your back reached further around to wrap tighter around your shoulders to press you flush against his body. “I take it back, ya smell nice.” He spoke into your skin, lips brushing against your neck and the hot breath of his mouth making goosebumps prickle your skin.
You let out a breathy laugh to cover your nervousness. “T-thanks!”
He smiled against your skin before pulling himself back. “But I’d say ya still need a shower. You smell exactly like a booger.”
“You! You were just-!” You pushed him away as you blushed furiously, flustered by all of his teasings. “You’re soo mean!”
“Hehe, I’m mean? I saved your life, ya know!”
That was true. The unpleasant memories flashed in front of your eyes once again but this time, Gojo was ready to help you get up to your feet and exit the building to go back home while holding his hand.
“There’s this ramen place down this street, let’s eat lunch before we return, whaddya say?” His glee had returned, his smile was more gorgeous than you had realized.
“O-okay!” You let him intertwine your fingers together but blushed harder as a result.
~~~
“Ah, the others are still out…” you said as soon as you stepped inside the dormitory. Their shoes weren’t by the entrance.
“We have the whole place to ourselves, isn’t it great?” Gojo kicked off his shoes to walk further inside. “We can watch this one movie I rented out last week… ah... I forgot to return it… Anyway! We can still watch it! The movie’s about-”
“I think I’m gonna take a shower first,” you shyly interrupted. “But we can still watch it after I’m done!”
He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “I see, you should be quick then. Once Suguru and Nanami come back, we won’t be able to do anything.”
You nodded, hurrying up to the girls’ dorm, grabbing clothes and your towel to head towards the showers but then you saw the large sign with big red letters just as you were about to enter.
Although you were already bummed out about not finding your body towel and only had your hair towel with you, the sign made your day worse.
Walking downstairs, you found the person you were looking for in the kitchen.
“Um, Gojo?”
The guy mentioned closed the cabinet he was checking and his lips curled up into a smile but it disappeared as soon as he turned to face you. “Yeah?”
“It says that the water pipes are damaged upstairs…” Hugging your clothes and towel tighter on your chest, you raised your eyebrows to ask him something he had planned for you to ask. “Where am I supposed to shower?”
Gojo hummed in thought. “Well, you can use our bathroom. I can stay on the lookout for you so Suguru or Nanami won’t walk in on you.”
You looked hesitant but you had learned to trust Gojo. He had made sure of that.
“O-okay.”
“Leave your dirty clothes in the basket by the door, I'll wash them for you.” He walked around the counter to put an arm around you, walking you towards the boys’ bathroom.
“I can do it,” you said softly.
“I’m gonna wash my stuff anyway so I can do it for ya!” he insisted, easily having had figured out that you couldn’t say no to people.
Nodding reluctantly, you spoke after clearing your throat. “Can you please make sure nobody comes in? I-I would feel safe if I knew you told them to not come in.”
“Of course!! I’ll call Suguru right away!” Gojo offered you a polite smile. You stood in front of the bathroom door, he pushed you inside. “So it’s the exact same as the upstairs but the only difference is that you should wear one of those slippers while showering.” He grabbed a large pair of slippers for you, putting them in front of you as you were taking your socks off. “Do not, and I mean this, do not walk barefoot here. We don’t clean the floors, we should but we won’t.”
“That’s kinda icky…”
“You can clean it if you wanna but we won’t.”
“It should be your job to clean your own dorm.” You put on the slippers with a sigh.
“Take your clothes off and take your shower before they return or I’ll bring them in here.”
“What!?”
“You heard me.”
Of course, you heard him. You were blushing furiously.
Gojo giggled and walked over to you. “You can’t bathe in your clothes, can you?” He pulled you out of the shower area. “Come on!”
“I-I will! You have to get out first!”
He stared at you with deadpan eyes, almost in disbelief. “I thought you wanted me in here so nobody would come in?”
When you blushed harder, his facade fell and he snorted before long he was laughing merrily.
“You’re so easy to tease!”
Covering your face in embarrassment, you told him to leave politely.
“I will I will!” He ruffled your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be back to collect your laundry so don’t freak out about that, right?”
“R-right.”
“So adorable…” He patted on your head one last time before leaving.
As soon as he left, you took your uniform off, folding them neatly to put them in the small laundry basket. Since after this separation you only needed your towel, you left your clean clothes next to the basket, folding them as well.
Sluggishly, you unhooked your bra and slipped out of your panties, placing them in between your clean clothes. There was no way you were going to let Gojo wash your underwear, that was too… too-
You were blushing and had to internally shake your head to clear your thoughts. Once naked, you wrapped your hair towel around your body, it was a lot shorter than you thought, not the actual towel you planned on using to cover your body. Ugh, whatever. You were going to get out of the showers and put on your clothes anyway. It didn’t matter what length of towel you had.
After taking a deep breath you walked into the bath area to take a shower.
~~~
Gojo had all of your clothes in the laundry basket and was walking towards the laundry room when Geto entered the dormitory with Nanami.
“Yo Suguru!” he chirped, “Don’t enter the bath, she’s in there taking a shower.”
Geto snorted, covering his mouth with a hand, “It really worked huh?”
They were all standing in the common room as Gojo nodded rapidly. “It’s all thanks to Nanami, his handwriting is soooo professional. I bet she thought it was from some janitor or something. She didn’t even question how Shoko was able to shower just this morning.”
While Geto and Gojo were snickering, Nanami was staring down at his feet. “Can you keep me out of this one?”
“Eh?” Gojo deadpanned. “Getting cold feet already? You promised you’d join in?! This is a once in a lifetime chance, Nanami~”
“Don’t force him,” Geto said, still a smile plastered on his face. “I think he’ll get around anyway.”
Gojo’s grin returned on his face, “True true! She’s sooo adorable and easy to handle. It’s like she was made for us.”
Nanami shook his head, trying to look serious but failing miserably.
“It’s no worries, Nanami,” Geto informed, placing an ensuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ll always have an open place.”
“Yeah, women have three holes ya kn-OW!” Gojo’s words were cut short by Geto flicking a finger on his nose.
“What do you have there?” Changing the subject way too quickly, Geto pointed at the laundry basket.
Gojo rubbed the tip of his nose and pouted. “Her clothes.”
“All of them?”
“Ya.”
“Did you use six eyes to spy on her?”
“Nooo~” Gojo tried to hide his smile and lie but failed to keep his face neutral.
“Bastard.” Clicking his tongue, Geto rolled his eyes. “How did the exorcism go?”
“Well, it went well,” Gojo sighed.
“You said well twice,” Geto pointed out, “Tell me what happened.”
“It was nice,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know what else to say.” He tried to avoid Geto’s gaze on him. “Got to see her getting ravished by some curse and all…”
Geto grimaced and went quiet. The sound of the show playing on the television in the common room wasn’t loud enough to fill the silence that Gojo had created.
Nanami was blushing but he couldn’t leave as Geto still had his hand on his shoulder, keeping him there.
“I shouldn’t have let you take the lead, you always go overboard on the first day.” Geto was angry at himself.
“Take this as a token of my condolences.” Gojo held your bra up towards his friend.
“He wants the panties for himself.” Geto leaned towards Nanami to complain, “He thinks he’s so smart but I want the panties.”
Gojo shook his head dramatically, “It’s for Nanami. He should take the panties since we made him go through all that trouble. It’s also like an honor to receive the panties, right?”
Nanami refused to look them in the eye.
“He’s acting like the good guy now,” Geto snickered. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Nanami. (name) is in good hands, we wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.” At least physically.
Geto’s voice was calming and soft like cotton, giving the second year a sense of comfort.
“Yeah man, trust your upperclassmen a little!” Gojo laughed merrily, holding out the pink panties towards Nanami. “We’re only trying to teach you!”
Taking the panties from his grasp with shaky hands, Nanami nodded. “Yeah…”
Geto patted him on the back, “Now, where exactly are her weak points?”
Nanami jolted, blushed faintly because of how he has used his ability before. He opened his mouth to say it.
The other two listened attentively.
~~~
Don’t freak out.
Don’t freak out.
With a hair towel barely covering your modesty and on the verge of tears, you were trying to talk yourself into running out of the bath and upstairs. If you run, nobody would see you.
Why had Gojo taken all of your clothes?
Ugh! You shouldn’t have put them there, he probably took them thinking that they were also dirty but deep down you knew you were clumsy enough to end up in this situation anyway.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
You could run.
Just run upstairs.
Yeah, that was all you needed to do.
You stepped out of the bathroom and instantly heard footsteps. Like an idiot, instead of going back inside the showers, you lurched forward, trying the first door you stumbled upon and successfully opening it to enter the room to hide.
Pressing your ear to the door, you listened to the footsteps, they didn’t come close to this room but you heard a door being opened and closed shut.
Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you pressed your forehead on the door. You were going to wait a little more before bolting out of this room to run upstairs.
“Can I help you?”
You jerked so suddenly that you managed to hit your head on the door. When you turned around, you found Geto watching you intently from his bed.
Your cheeks flushed, unable to say anything other than gibberish you started stuttering.
He got up from his bed, putting the book he was reading aside and heading straight towards his wardrobe.
“I’m sorry it’s Gojo, he took all of my clothes and-”
“Here.” Geto held out a shirt and sweatpants towards you, cutting your sentence short. “You can wear these and leave.”
You stared at the clothes he was holding out to you, eyes wide and cheeks burning up. Pressing the towel harder on your body, you tried covering yourself as much as you could.
Meekly taking the clothes from him, you bowed your head to show appreciation. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before he walked away and turned around to give you privacy.
You stood still, indecisive, before finally dropping the towel on the floor to put on the clothes he gave you.
Although they were quite large on you, in the end, you weren’t naked anymore.
“T-thank you.” Your voice was soft and full of admiration as you picked your towel up from the floor. He was so kind and respectful.
He waved a hand in lieu of speaking, telling you goodbye.
Not needing to be told twice, you left his room. Geto hoped that you hadn’t noticed him snapping a picture of you with his slide phone but even if you did, he knew you wouldn’t be able to say anything against it.
~~~
Later that day, Gojo apologized to you multiple times, telling you how he was so lost in his thoughts and took all of your clothes with him.
“Here they are though! Washed and dried!” He held the small laundry basket to you. Your clothes were indeed clean but they were… messy. They hadn’t been folded neatly so you had to iron them later. Despite that you thanked him.
Back in your room, you noticed that your underwear was missing from the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. All of them. Your clean and dirty ones.
Quickly, you walked downstairs, past the common room where all the guys were watching television, and into the laundry room. Perhaps Gojo hadn’t washed them out of embarrassment. If it was you, you wouldn’t! At least if it was his underwear you were going to wash.
Checking the large basket and the washing machine multiple times, you couldn’t find them. When you opened the tumble dryer, they weren’t in it either.
You walked back to the common room, feet dragging and meek. Standing beside the large couch, you pretended to be checking the movie they were watching but actually, you were trying to muster up the courage to ask Gojo if he had seen your underwear.
Nanami glanced in your direction through his long fringe, although his cheeks were flushed pink, you couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Gojo,” he said, alerting the white-haired guy of your presence.
You wondered if it was obvious it was him that you wanted to talk to.
Gojo stared at Nanami and when the blonde pointed in your direction with a nod, he whipped his head around to meet your gaze.
“(name)!” he chirped, patting on the empty spot on the couch between him and Geto. “The movie has just started, come join us!”
With everyone looking at you now, you felt obliged to sit down.
Once you were seated, Gojo narrowed his eyes at Geto and put his arm around you. You flinched but didn’t have the courage to push him away, you ended up unwillingly accepting his warmth.
To Geto, what he did was an insult. It felt like it.
If he didn’t hurry and caught up with him, Gojo would have the upper hand.
“Are you okay?” Geto asked, scooted closer to you on the couch, using the question as an excuse to close the distance between the two of you. “I heard what happened, it must've been scary.”
You offered him a kind smile. “It was a terrifying experience but I’m fine… thanks to Gojo.”
Geto tried hard not to let his lips curl down to a frown but with the way Gojo was smirking at him to taunt him, it was difficult. “Yeah but don’t trust him too much,” he said, glowering at Gojo. “He can be such an airhead at times. He took all of your clothes today, didn’t he?”
That made you shift on your seat uncomfortably. You also remembered the reason why you had come here but you didn’t want to be accusatory about it. In simple words, you were just too scared to confront him. “He already apologized.”
Gojo’s face contorted into something vile as Geto feigned worry.
“You shouldn’t let him go off that easily. He will never learn from his mistakes if his actions don’t have consequences.”
“It was a small mistake, I’m not mad or anything…” Subconsciously you were leaning away from Gojo.
“Whatever you say,” Geto snickered.
Nanami sank deeper into the cushions of the couch in discomfort while you were completely unaware of the tension between the two guys.
~~~
“What are you trying to do?” Gojo groaned in anger. “We’re all in this together so what’s with trying to make me look bad? I told you that overly friendly guy thing would be the best choice, you can’t blame me for-”
“I wanted to see your reaction,” Geto replied, interrupting him. “It was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny.” Gojo glared at him over his sunglasses. “I’m going to win her over, is that why you’re acting so childish about it?”
“You’re the one who’s childish,” Geto snapped, sitting up on his bed. “You’re trying to turn this into a competition. Again .”
“It’s more fun that way.”
Silence.
It was a long moment after Geto spoke. “If we’re going to turn this into a competition, then it should be fair to all of us.”
Finally calmed down, Gojo hummed in agreement. “How though?”
A smile spread across Geto’s face before he gave his friend a response.
~~~
“Rock paper scissors!”
Nanami won by picking paper. The other two groaned and complained as they were all walking back to the common room to meet up with you. The game was played in secret.
“Today, you’ll work with Nanami, he’s a pro at using cursed tools.” It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t anything they had planned either.
Your day with the blonde went uneventful, you actually managed to learn some tricks about cursed tools.
~~~
You returned Geto his clothes.
The neatly folded clothes on top of his bed were inviting.
He reached for them. The clothes hadn’t been washed but it was as he wanted. He had assured you he would wash them himself.
Turning the sweatpants inside out, he brought the crotch area up to his face and inhaled deeply. His eyelashes fluttered at the pleasant smell that filled his lungs. So this was how you smelled. Your scent was faint but since you had worn it without any underwear, it had managed to stick onto the fabric, much to Geto’s joy.  
He couldn’t help but take another whiff as he pulled his pants down.
~~~
“Rock paper scissors!”
Geto won.
“Like this?” you asked worriedly, holding your arm out in an exorcism position. The flyhead in front of you was in a small cage, helpless and ready for you to exorcise it.
“No, you have to angle your hips right.” Geto placed his hands on your waist, getting awfully close and invading your space. “You have to keep your eyes on the curse at all times, no matter how much it might spur it on, you can wear sunglasses so it won’t notice your stare but not losing the sight of the enemy is important.” He pressed himself against you but you were listening to his soft voice, explaining how you could get better at this. “Try it.”
You nodded, aiming your cursed energy towards the flyhead.
The creature squealed and exploded into nothing.
Thrilled by your success, you turned your head around with an excited smile plastered on your face. “Did you see that?”
Geto offered you a kind smile, enough to reassure you that you did more than well. “You’re a natural.” He gave you a pat on the head, “Good job.” He then used his fingers to endearingly comb through your hair.
You leaned into his touch, ignoring how close he had gotten.
That made him smile, it wouldn’t be long until you were ready.
~~~
“Rock paper scissors!”
Geto won again, then Gojo, then Nanami, then Gojo again and it went on.
Easy get corrupted but still able to be as meekly cheerful as the first day, you were enough to charm all of them.
One of them a little more than the other two. Enough to make him care about you.
“I’m out.”
Both Gojo and Geto stared at Nanami with wide eyes.
“This eaaarly?” The white-haired one whined, stretching the word out. He was buzzed out of his mind. Cheap beer like this hit him faster than the better quality ones.
“You sure?” This time Geto wasn’t going to say anything to convince him not to drop out of the competition. Nanami leaving meant there would be a higher chance for him to corrupt you for the day.
The blonde in question nodded.
“You’re gonna miss ooooout her cuuutee fidgeting when you touch her waist!” Gojo was giggling, remembering how sensitive you were.
Geto chuckled, a smile appearing on his face. “The way she gets teary when you push her a little too much is the cutest.”
“Nooo, the way she starts stuttering when you act friendly is cute, her face as if she’s ready to cry is sexy. Her brows furrow and she looks at you like she’s begging for you to stop but-”
“She’s too pathetic to speak up!” The duo said it in unison and started laughing while high-fiving each other for their similar thinking.
Nanami took a sip from his beer and ignored them. This was for the best. He was going to continue ignoring it.
Ignorance was bliss.
~~~
“We’re out of necessities,” Nanami informed everyone in the common room.
Gojo tore his eyes away from the television and hung off the back of the coach to look at Nanami. “Already?”
“I can go and buy them if you gave me a list?” You were quick to pipe up.
Geto put his hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair, “You can’t carry all that, we’ll do it.”
“Well, why don’t I go with one of you?” There it was, the meek tone. Something was going on.
“Why? Do you need something specific?” Gojo sat back on the couch, returning his attention to the Saturday morning comedy sketches.
“Y-yeah.” Fidgeting with your fingers you looked down at your lap.
“You can put whatever you need into the list and we’ll buy it,” Geto answered but his true intention was to see how flustered you could get over a simple task being done for you. He could or rather anyone could easily guess what this was all about. They had been living with Shoko for over three years now, who unlike you wasn’t shy about anything.
Nanami who had been pouring out coffee for himself noticed how your shoulders slackened in defeat. Although he had promised to stay out of their game, he spoke without thinking. “We can go together.”
As soon as he said that both Gojo and Geto glowered at him from the corner of their eyes.
You whipped your head around with an innocent smile, “That’s so kind of you! Thank you, Nanami!”
“We can all go,” Geto replied.
“It’d be too crowded.” You got up from the couch to walk over where Nanami was standing to talk about if you should get ready now or later.
An imaginary lightbulb lit up over Gojo’s head. “Let’s decide who’s gonna go by rock paper scissors.”
“Nanami just said he’d go with me-”
“He wants to avoid his cleaning duty. We’re supposed to do the cleaning today since Shoko is coming back tomorrow.” Geto backed Gojo up instantaneously. So sly.
Three of them held their fists up from where they were and almost as if they’d done it a million times, they chose their gesture without even saying anything.
You looked at each gesture and your eyes landed on the winner.
“Write what you two personally need on a list, I’ll go grab my wallet.” Geto got up from the couch and beckoned you to follow him.
The two of you took the bus to the store and split up with separate baskets to do the shopping. You finished quick, put enough sanitary pads that would last you until the next month into the basket, and hid them under a bunch of other things so Geto wouldn’t see it.
You found Geto by the cleaning aisle.
“Done?” he asked, noticing your full basket.
“Yeah.”
“That was quick.” Geto grinned, “I have a couple of things left, after that, I’m done as well.”
“Can we go to the new cafe that opened down the street?” you asked cutely as you followed him to the next aisle in the grocery store.
He nodded in response without looking at you.
As he turned into the next aisle, which happened to be where the hygiene products were, you continued following him. He walked past the toothbrushes, shampoos, and colognes.
You proceeded to follow him until he abruptly stopped.
He put his basket down and inspected the products on the shelves.
Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw what he was planning to buy. “Ah.” It was a noise you made out of surprise, nothing more. You were completely flushed, dizzy from embarrassment as Geto stared down at you with a packet in his hand.
Extra thin for ultra pleasure.
XL.
Prelubed.
“You okay?” he asked, dropping the packet into his basket.
He was a guy, yeah, he was a man. This was normal. Yeah, he had a-
Your brain wasn’t working.
You shook your head without meaning to. “I-I forgot to buy something.” Not letting him say anything else, you rushed out of the aisle, omitting the way he was grinning.
After the two of you paid for the stuff, you started walking to the cafe together. You were lucky to have Geto by your side since he carried more bags than you ever could. He wouldn’t let you carry anything either so you ended up carrying the toilet papers.
Holding the door open for him, you walked inside the cafe. The employees behind the counter greeted you, smiling brightly.
“I’ll take normal coffee, black, no sugar or milk.” With that, he quietly walked to the furthest end of the shop by the large windows. Apparently, you were the one who was going to order.
You walked up to the employee who was waiting for you to order, you decided to try out their signature drink and ordered filter coffee for Geto. After getting your drinks on a tray, you made your way down to the table he sat, placing the tray carefully down.
Plopping down on the chair, you let out an exaggerated sigh, “I’m exhausted.”
“You didn’t do any of the heavy lifting, so you don’t get to complain,” he replied, taking his coffee from the tray.
You pouted your lips as you reached for your own drink. It got quiet as he looked out of the window, taking small sips of his coffee and enjoying the view. You on the other hand were fidgety. Mind still going back to recall what he had bought.
Well, he was handsome and charming. Geto clearly had a girlfriend. But… you hadn’t seen him with any other girl. What if it was Shoko?
Then it hit you. Shoko’s words she told you when you first arrived at the campus. It all started to make sense, she was trying to scare you so you wouldn’t make a move on his boyfriend.
You were curious.
Curiosity killed the cat.
“I-I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you said, trying to hide your blushing cheeks behind the straw of your drink.
“What?” he chuckled and put his drink back on the tray.
Dumbfounded by his response you stuttered. “Your g-girlfriend.”
“My what?” He had heard you right but he needed to see you get flustered but when you stayed quiet he continued. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I-I’m only asking because you bought-” your voice became faint, “ -that… ”
“The condoms?” This time he leaned forward on the table, raising a brow at you. “Do I need to have a girlfriend to buy condoms?”
“Keep your voice down,” you hushed him, your brain was turning into mush from shame and embarrassment, you couldn’t even think straight. “Please.”
“Huh? Why? We’re the only ones here.” He tilted his head to try meeting your eyes but you wouldn’t look at him. “Besides, why are you so why about this? Didn’t you and your boyfriend go out to buy one of these at some point?”
A silent thud made you look down at the table. There it was, in broad daylight, anyone could see it.
You were going to faint.
“Hmm?” Geto was waiting for an answer.
“No,” you said, head spinning from embarrassment, you had never felt like this before. You needed to go home. It was too overwhelming. There was this other thing bubbling in your stomach, your face was getting heated and your nails were digging into your palms.
That was anger. Rage.
“I don’t believe you. Haven’t your boyfriends ever-”
“I never had one.” For the first time in your whole life, you raised your voice.  
“Never?” Geto was more shocked at the revelation, not too surprised at your change of demeanor.  “That’s a shame.” Awe tingled in his soft voice.
You didn’t say anything.
Geto sighed, relenting quietly but his grin didn’t falter. “Okay,” he said, taking the condom packet from the table and putting it back in his pocket. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t sound genuine,” you spoke firmly. "Besides, you were the one to tell me not to forgive tactlessness. Isn’t it ironic?” Your tone had changed, you were speaking through your teeth, anger had taken over you.
Oh, this feisty side of you… he wanted to see how it would break.
“You think so?” A thoughtful yet mocking humming noise left him. “Aren’t you the one overreacting? All I did was to show you something I bought. You were the one asking about it. Shouldn’t it be me who should be upset with you?”
Silence.
“If you want to believe it’s my fault, I’ll let you think that way but don’t go blaming others for corrupting your virtue like a prude. It’s annoying and harmful. If you said those words to Satoru, he’d be devastated. So, be a good girl and grow up.”
Your chest tightened, no matter how much you inhaled no air was reaching your lungs. The panic had started settling in but it was all internal. You had put the facade back on, desperately trying to hold back your tears.
What he said was true. That was why it hurt so much.
“Ah, let’s head back,” he said, getting up from his seat. “It’s getting late.”
You nodded languidly, leaving your still full drink on the tray and shuffling after Geto with glossy eyes.
The guilt you felt was sublime, no words would be enough to describe it.
~~~
“She’s never had a boyfriend?” Gojo was baffled by the fact. “Does that-”
“Most likely,” Geto answered without needing to hear his question.
The two of them exchanged a competitive look with each other before they balled their good hands in fists.
“Rock paper scissors!”
~~~
There was a knock on your door. You pulled the sheets over your head instead of answering it. You hadn’t joined the boys for dinner, there was no way you could look them in the eye after what had happened today.
“We’re going to have drinks in Nanami’s room.” It was Geto. “I want you to join us.”
You pressed your face harder on the pillow.
“(name)?”
Maybe it was better if you answered the door before he burst into your room, which was unlikely since it was Geto. Gojo would have but Geto… no.
You walked to the door and falteringly opened it.
On the other side, Geto had a hand on your door frame, leaning forward.
Your eyes met but you immediately averted your gaze in shame. An apology was the first thing you needed to do. “I’m sorry.”
He scoffed, “Why are you apologizing?”
“For saying all those mean things.”
Geto leaned further down and used his free hand to pat on your head, ruffling your hair. “Don’t overthink it. I shouldn’t have teased you that much.”
The feeling of his warm, calloused hand on your head was reassuring, it made you regret saying those words to him even more. He had been nothing but kind to you.
“I’m so sorry, I must be so annoying and weak.” You lifted your head to look at him, eyes glossy and cheeks tinted. Your lower lip was trembling as your eyes were acutely watching him, waiting for a response.
Unable to resist your face in despair, Geto smiled. His hand cupped your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. “Don’t apologize. You’re a girl who’s desperately working hard to improve herself. There’s no way I could ever dislike you.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Why would I be?” His hand slid down along your jaw stopping when his thumb was hovering over the corner of your lip. He ran his thumb on your lip. “You’re such a sweet girl, it’s impossible staying mad at you. You’re adorable.”
Petrified, you stared into his eyes. The half-lidded eyes were hazy with an emotion you had never seen on anyone before. He was leaning closer towards your face all the while your heart was hammering inside your ribcage.
He was going to kiss you.
Instinctively, you closed your eyes, puckering your lips.
Geto watched your eyelashes flutter and cheeks flush with dark amusement before retrieving his hand from your face.
“Shall we go?”
His question made you open your eyes and instantly your cheeks flushed harder. Ahh, how embarrassing! You really thought he was going to kiss you.
You walked out of your room and closed the door to follow Geto downstairs to Nanami’s room.
Gojo’s chipper voice filled the empty hallway before you arrived in front of the room. Geto opened the door for you, gesturing you to walk inside first.
Nanami’s room was cleaner than yours, it was neatly organized and decorated but it reeked of cigarette smoke.
“Ahh, (name)! You came!!” Gojo quickly waved at you and patted on the bed for you to take the space next to him. “Come sit with me!”
Nanami glanced at you over his shoulder but didn’t do much other than bow his head slightly to greet you as he was smoking.
Decidedly, you took a step to join Gojo but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.
Geto led you to where Nanami was smoking and instructed you to sit down beside him on the floor. “Do you smoke?”
“Um… No.”
“Let’s not make her smoke,” Nanami suddenly said when he noticed Geto was bringing his own cigarette pack out.
“He’s right! She’ll reek of cigarettes!” Gojo was practically yelling, from the way his cheeks were tinted bright red, you could tell that he had been drinking. He was slurring most of his words.
“It was merely a question,” Geto sighed, putting a cigarette between his lips to light it.
Nanami pointed at the large plastic bag in the middle of the floor and spoke to you. “These are for everyone, you can take one if you want.”
With his remark, you crawled towards the middle and checked inside the bag. There was beer and a large bottle of wine along with a bunch of cigarette packs in it. “A-are we allowed to drink these on campus?”
“What? You’re gonna rat on us?” Gojo barked out a laugh.
“No,” you mumbled and reached for the wine bottle. “C-can I have this?”
“The whole thing?” Geto raised a brow, “Didn’t you learn to share?”
“Not the entire bottle, I just wanna try it.” You were too meek again, they had all figured you out enough to know what that meant.
“Don’t tell me…” Gojo was pointing a finger at you and grinning. “You’ve never tried alcohol before?”
“I never had the chance.”
You were just getting better the more they learned about you.
Nanami stubbed out the remaining of his cigarette. “Try not to drink too much on your first time.”
Geto glared at Nanami, the wine was there for you specifically. Higher the percentage, the bigger the chances of you letting your guard down.
When you made a move to put the bottle back in the bag to get a can of beer instead, Geto encouraged you to drink it. “We’ll all drink some from the bottle, don’t worry about drinking too much. We’re here with you to prevent that.”
Lies, lies, lies.
The way your eyes sparkled with appreciation when you looked at him as you were unaware of his intentions, was all too innocent. Pure as snow.
You opened the bottle and took a sip, grimacing right after. All of them laughed, making jokes about their first times and chatting about all of the other things until there was a lull in the conversation.
The silence was often filled by Gojo’s horrendous singing or your tipsy giggling, trying to tell a story and being unable to finish it because of how hard you were laughing in between each word.
“So,” Geto started, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Satoru, when did you have your first kiss?” he asked as if he didn’t know every detail.
Gojo hummed in thought, pretending to try to remember. “I don’t know, maybe when I was twelve or fourteen.” There was a pause before he asked the same question to his friend, almost sheepishly. “When did you have yours, Suguru?”
“I was also fourteen if I remember it right.” Geto put his cigarette down on the ashtray to take a sip from his beer. “Nanami-”
“No.” Nanami didn’t pay attention to any of you and lit up another cigarette.
“Okay.” Geto rolled his eyes before they landed on you. “(name), what about you?”
“That’s… a secret.” You pressed your forefinger against your lips, shushing with a giggle.
“We’re all friends here,” Geto replied, biting back a laugh. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, right?”
His words made you look up to the ceiling to think for a long moment. Deciding that he was right, you bobbed your head. “Yes.”
“Yes to what?” Gojo chuckled, he was hanging off upside-down from the bed, pouting while you were thinking and thinking and thinking.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before~” you stretched the word out, barely managing to keep your eyes open. The bottle of wine in your hand was half empty. It wasn’t really a surprise but hearing you say it out loud when you were too shy to speak up your mind was purely erotic.
“Never ever?” Gojo was trying to drink his own beer upside-down.
You shook your head but then started nodding. “Ahh, sooo confusing! I really didn’t have my first kiss. Like ever.”
“That’s a lie, it must be! You’re very friendly.” Gojo sighed his next words, “All the boys must love you.”
Starting to fidgeting with fingers on your lap you shook your head to deny. “I’m not popular amongst boys. Not popular at all with anyone since I’m not that extrovert or pretty.”
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the attention,” Geto went on to say. “You’re prettier than you think.”
Cheeks flushing, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’re just saying that.”
“Have I ever lied to you?” Geto chuckled, “As adorable you are, you’re also the nicest girl I’ve ever met.”
You beamed at him, eyes twinkling like stars. “Y-You really think so?”
“Yes, you’re soo cute!” Gojo joined, crawling towards you. “You’re gorgeous!”
“Aside from your stunning looks, you’re quite talented. Your cursed technique has a promising future and you’re able to learn quickly to improve yourself.” Geto put a hand on his face, covering the lower half of his face. “Hardworking and determined to become a special grade sorcerer, it’s inspiring if not admirable.”
Being bombarded with compliments made you feel like you were on the clouds. The validation you didn’t get from your own family past forgotten, you got lost in the sweetness of their words.
It all made you feel special.
“I’m so happy I came here, it feels like I belong here with you guys. I feel at home.” You started fiddling with the sticker on the wine bottle. “I’m very lucky to have you guys as my friends.”
Gojo pouted his lips and jumped towards you with his arms open. He wrapped them around you, rocking side to side. “You’re soooo adorable! How are you soo cute? I wanna eat you up, you’re like the cutest thing ever! Argh, what did I do to ever deserve you?”
Caught off guard, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. “I should be the one saying that.”
Pulling himself back, Gojo turned to Geto, “We should kiss her! Her first kiss should be with people who treasure her deeply. It’s such a sweet thing and as friends, it’s our duty to make that happen!”
“R-really?” Despite what he was saying was outrageous, you were giggling, eyes on him. Looking at him like he meant the world to you.
Innocence being corrupted. Poetic.
“She wouldn’t be comfortable doing that sort of stuff, Satoru. (name) is timid, don’t tease her.”
“I’m not teasing her!” Gojo looked down at you between his arms and blushed bright red, “I mean, I’d kiss her, wouldn’t ya?”
Nanami rolled his eyes, he had heard them rehearse this a million times and it still managed to make him feel the secondhand embarrassment and additionally physically make him grimace.
Nonetheless, it seemed to work for you. Time stopped moving for you, cheeks flushed and mouth agape, your eyes were on Geto, eagerly waiting for his answer.
Stubbing out his cigarette, he averted his gaze. “I would.”
“Nanami,” Gojo called next. “Would you kiss her?”
Nanami stared at the white-haired idiot, he had to be kidding. It was clear as day that they were trying to drag him back into the game.
“Nanami has the most experience between all of us,” Geto lied, now unable to hide his smirk. “You should kiss him, (name).”
This time, you were blushing faintly, eyes blinking slowly with a charming smile on your face. All of those were directed at Nanami and the longing look on your face was enough to make his breath hitch.
“Ah, he’s blushing!” Gojo pointed out with a laugh. “This might be the first time I’m seeing him blush!”
Of course, he would blush from seeing you the way they described you for the first time. Oh, so timid and innocent, begging to be ravished.
“Who do ya want your first kiss to be with, (name)?” Gojo asked softly, his voice coaxing you into safety. They were all your friends, they wanted to help you. They loved you. You knew that, right?
“I don’t know.” Your speech was slurred, the alcohol was starting to hit you harder now.
Gojo squeezed your cheeks together until your lips puckered and turned your face for Nanami to see. “She has such kissable lips, don’t ya think?”
Nanami was trying his best to hold his composure, not wanting to let himself lose control.
“If you don’t kiss her, I most certainly will take her first kiss.” Gojo pressed his lips on your temple, giving you a chaste kiss before moving to whisper in your ear. “I love you so much, so pretty and gullible. So adorable. I don’t wanna share you with anyone else.”
You tilted your head in delight at his words, letting his lips brush against your neck.
How easy to please!
Gojo smiled into your skin, pressing another kiss on your neck.
A cute noise left your lips.
Nanami twitched at the noise and Geto noticed it.
“You should take over before he eats her up,” he said with an amused grin.
Nanami shook his head but he was still unable to tear his eyes away from Gojo planting kisses on your neck and you squirming in pleasure in his arms.
He put an arm around your waist, pulling you a lot closer. You pulled your leg up on his leg to turn your torso towards him.
“What should we do, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes hazy behind his sunglasses. “Nanami doesn’t wanna kiss you but I do…”
Nanami couldn’t bring himself to look away from you. He wanted to jump on you, taking you right here and now as the two idiots watched in awe. Quickly he suppressed the fantasy with his own free will.
Gojo leaned down and you closed your eyes shut, puckering your lips to patiently wait for the kiss.
Nothing mattered anymore.
He put one hand on your waist, the other cupping your cheek as his lips pressed against yours. Your heart was beating rapidly, enough to make you conscious of everything your body was going through. The hand on your waist was hot against your skin and the lips pressing against yours… let heavenly.
You thought that was it. A simple kiss. You didn’t know you could kiss someone more than just pressing your lips against each other but Gojo took it further.
His lips moved harsh against yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip. His hand on your cheek slid to the back of your head and he grabbed a chunk of your hair. Once you opened your mouth to protest, he snaked his tongue inside.
You clutched on his shirt, tears dwelling in your eyes as you involuntarily tasted the bitter taste of beer on his tongue.
The hand on your waist moved to press on the small of your back to pull you in his lap. You moaned into the kiss, arching your back. He knew that was your weak spot, Nanami had told him. He also knew that your inner thigh-
You shrieked when another hand went to your inner thighs.
Breaking the kiss, you looked at Geto in surprise. He took the opportunity to use his free hand to pull you back by your hair and press his lips on yours.
Gojo made a small noise to protest but then turned the situation to his own advantage. His hands went to your waist, then up, up, and up until his thumbs reached to the swell of your breasts.
You opened your mouth in panic but it only helped Geto to force his tongue down your throat. The slick muscle twirled around your own tongue and you started to get dizzy from the taste of tobacco coming from him.
Gojo cupped your tits over your pajama top before starting to knead the supple flesh, you moved your hips subconsciously. Geto put a hand on your hip to move your hips, grinding you on Gojo’s knee. “That’s erotic, (name). I thought you never had a boyfriend before… You’re seducing us, aren’t you?”
Your cheeks flushed but you couldn’t give him an answer as Geto was busy ravishing your mouth with his tongue to savor your taste.
Finally, Geto pulled himself back, a small strand of saliva connecting your lips together broke apart as he smiled looking at your bruised lips.
Like Gojo had said, Geto’s smile was beautiful. A sight to relish. You were grateful to be the reason for his gorgeous smile.
“She’s definitely seducing us. Look at her.” Geto cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a mocking expression on his face.
“I’m not…”
“You are,” Gojo joined, teasing you was too fun. “You were humping my leg ya know.”
“T-that was Geto-”
“Don’t lie.” Geto’s hand on your hips slid down between your legs and you slouched forward. You let out a moan when he pressed his fingers on your slit over the pajama pants as if he knew exactly where it was. You felt the wetness soaking your pants and leaving an icky feeling. You were about to ask him why he did that but he spoke, saying things that were so not true. “Only little sluts get this wet enough to soak their pants entirely.”
Gojo gasped dramatically. “You’re such a liar! I thought you were an innocent little girl.”
“I’m not…”
“So you’re not an innocent little girl?” Geto moved his fingers side to side, toying with your clothed clit as he pressed himself against you.
“Noo… I didn’t mean it that way…” Legs already shaking, only later you felt something firm and thick pressing on the cleft of your ass.
“You’re moving your hips, begging for it. I’m seeing it with my own two eyes! Having your first kiss must’ve made ya into a slut… You want it, don’t ya?”
You were blushing faintly, eyes blinking slowly while you looked up at Gojo. This was exactly what you wanted. Right? You had to be hoping for it if you were moving your hips like Gojo said. You had become a slut from having your first kiss.
“You cryin’?” Gojo was smirking.
“No?” Confused as to why he asked it, a purposeful grind of Geto’s hips on your ass made your mouth gape open. He was mimicking the movement of fucking you.
“So you like Suguru?”
Of course, he was such a gentleman… most of the time. He was kind and helpful. He always helped you train and looked out for you, giving you the best advice. You trusted him with your life.
“Hmm?” Gojo wasn’t about to repeat himself.
“I like him.”
Geto smirked and gestured with his head for Gojo to move away. With a sigh, the latter crawled away from you as Geto lifted you by your armpits to turn you to face him on his lap.
Your eyes were clouded with lust and your mind slurred with alcohol.
“You’re my little pipsqueak,” he said, caressing your cheek.
A nod.
“I’m going to take your innocence.”
Another nod.
Grinning, he grabbed the hem of your pajama top, lifting it up to your breasts and over your head. You lifted your arms above to help him get rid of the shirt. Since you hadn’t been wearing a bra, your tits bounced free.
Three pairs of eyes were on your bare chest, it made you blush and you covered yourself.
“We’re friends,” Geto assured, grabbing your wrist. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, remember?”
You let him pull your arms away from your chest and with a gorgeous smile, Geto placed his hands on your tits, rolling one nipple between his knuckles. He leaned forward to take your other tit in his mouth, causing you to moan audibly.
Gojo wasn’t shy to pull his pants down unlike Nanami who was still desperately trying to act like he was better than them. He wouldn’t stoop low like them. He wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. But then why was he palming himself through his pants?
“Geto…”
“Suguru,” he told you, planting warm kisses on your chest.
“Suguru,” you repeated, gasping as he gently laid you down on the tatami floor.
Stunned, Nanami was unable to say anything as his upperclassman climbed on top of you on the floor of his room. He had told them to do whatever they were going to do anywhere but here. He had told them and Gojo-
“Yo, Nanami,” the guy in question spoke. “Wanna take her oral virginity?”
“What are you talking about?” This was all too much, he didn’t know anything about this.
“Ah, Geto’s taking her virginity cause I lost and he told me to decide whether to let you take her ass virginity or not but I’m feeling greedy, ya take her mouth.”
“I’m… I’m not a part of this!” Nanami’s voice was suppressed by your moan when Geto pinched your nipple. His cheeks tinted pink and he pulled his shirt down to cover his growing bulge.
“You are,” Gojo said, unashamedly spitting in his hand and wrapping it around the base of his cock while his eyes were on you. “I’ve seen ya jerk it off to her. With my own six eyes.”
Although the older one wasn’t looking at him, the mocking tone slapped Nanami in the face. At that moment he felt exposed. Gojo knew. He knew.
He knew how behind closed doors he had your panties scrunched in his hand, inhaling them deeply and jerking off to the picture Geto had emailed him. The low-quality photo had given him such good quality fantasies about you. But he wouldn’t act on them, he wasn’t like them.
He wasn’t-
“Suguru, wait,” you whined when he grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants.
“Nope, not waiting~” He pulled them down, and despite your protests, you lifted your hips to help him. Hooking his fingers into your panties, he peeled them down your legs agonizingly slowly.
(Without you seeing, he tossed them towards his friend who gratefully took them and wrapped them around his cock for extra friction.)
Immediately, you pressed your thighs together to cover your bare pussy. “I-I changed my mind.” Your cheeks were burning and your head was starting to spin. It was all happening too fast for your mind to catch up. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“I told you, we are all friends. Don’t you have any guy friends? This kind of stuff is normal between friends.” Geto’s calming tone was back, lulling you back into safety, telling you that it was all fine. “I’m going to be your first so that you’ll know exactly what to do next time.” There was a long pause and he pretended to frown, feigning being hurt. “I can stop if you want me to.”
Not wanting to disappoint him and fail this ritual of friendship, you shook your head. “N-no. I-I want this.”
Geto spread your legs and grabbed you by your ankles to pull you flush against his hips. “I want you too, pipsqueak.” A hand moved to palm himself through his pants, your eyes followed, watching him grab his bulge to show you how big he actually was.
Flustered, you averted your gaze but came face to face with something even more explicitly naughty.
Gojo’s pants were down to his thighs, enough to expose his cock. You saw his hand moving rapidly up and down on his cock with your panties around it, as he noticed your stare he quickened his hand.
“You shouldn’t look at some other guy when you’re doing it with me.” Geto put a hand on your cheek to turn your head to face him. Although you wanted to keep your eyes focused on his face, your gaze dropped onto his cock released from his pants.
Before you could get flustered over it, Geto cupped your pussy using a hand. His thumb grazed over your sensitive numb and two of his digits slid easily inside. You let out a sharp gasp, toes curling.
Ahh, this was why virgins were the best, awfully sensitive and obedient. The way they didn’t know what was being done to them was the best. Shy girls were the best. Geto loved fucking timid girls who trusted him with their whole life. Corrupting them, making them believe he loved them, and taking their innocence. You were his dark fantasy come alive as if you were made for him and him only.
However, Geto wasn’t that selfish. He could share. Sometimes.
“You’re soaking wet.”
“Don’t say that…”
“Why not?” Smiling he slid his fingers out of you and held them up to your face. Clear fluid was covering them from tip to base. He separated the digits and small strands of the fluids connecting his fingers thinned before splitting apart. “It’s the truth.” He opened his mouth, taking the digits in his mouth to lick your juices as you watched in shock. A low hum emerged from him as he contentedly licked his lips. “You taste sweeter than any candy.”
“Stooop,” you were giggling now, too flustered from his mellow words.
Even though he would love to tease you for hours and take all of your firsts for himself, Geto had to move on. He could hear Gojo grumbling under his breath aside from him jerking off. Also, there was the blonde one.
Geto glanced over his shoulder to steal a quick look at what Nanami was doing.
The second-year was watching intently. Waiting for his turn.
That made Geto chuckle and he turned to you, giving you all of his attention once again. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, giving it a simple pump. Though he wanted to stop at that thanks to his spit and the remaining of your juices on his hand, it helped his hand move smoothly, making him want to jerk himself until he came.
He quickly snapped out of it, positioning himself between your legs and dragging the tip of his cock along your folds before tapping lightly.
You murmured something.
“Hmm?”
“T-the condom,” you reminded shyly.
“It’s your first time, right?” he asked, almost too impatiently.
“Y-yes.”
“You’re completely safe on your first time.”
With that he shoved his entire length inside your virgin cunt, tearing your hymen. Both of you moaned for different reasons.
He slumped forward as your virgin walls pulsated around his cock, stretching around his girth and taking the shape of him.
“It hurts,” you mewled, grabbing onto his bicep. “Suguru, it hurts.” Tears welled up in your eyes and seeing that made Geto grow bigger inside of you. He tentatively pulled his hips back and pushed himself up from the floor to look at between your bodies.
His eyes were on the small amount of blood on his cock and dripping from your hole, staining the floor under you.
A sickeningly excited smile spread across his face and he slammed his hips into yours, making you cry out in pain. He planted both of his hands on the floor, each side of your head to gain more control over his pace, and started fucking you frantically.
Gojo let out a breathy laugh and tried matching his pace o his friend’s pace of fucking you. He wasn’t going to last long but Geto seemed like he was going to last longer.
Your hands went to his shoulders, pulling him closer rather than pushing him. He knew you needed the closure. This was something lovers did with each other and Geto wanted to teach you all of it. Definitely not because fucking timid and innocent girls was his fetish.
His thrusts were like an animal in heat, desperately and frenziedly hammering into your pussy. Each time his balls slapped against your ass you let out a shaky moan, the pain now a faint memory.
Your narrow entrance and virgin walls clamping on his cock were heavenly. Every time he moved, your pussy throbbed, clenching around him and you let out those adorable moans he was desperate to hear. He couldn’t stop moving his hips, it was impossible.
“Am I doing good?” you asked, gasping sharply between each word.
Innocent, so innocent.
Geto completely lost himself.
He grabbed the back of your knee and pushed both legs until he could mount you entirely.
In this position he was going so deep, it made your eyelashes flutter and you lost your vision for a moment.
His cock continued stroking your gummy insides while he thrust in your cunt with a vigorous pace but he couldn’t last long because of your virgin walls squeezing around him like you were trying to milk him dry.
He managed to steal a few more thrusts before his cock started twitching inside you. Geto pushed himself balls deep inside you and the tip of his cock kissed your cervix, making your toes curl as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside your womb, filling your tummy.
You could feel his seed fill your womb and overflow, as well as the slight twitch of his balls on your skin. It made you bite your lip, your face was wet with tears and possibly snot. However, it didn’t stop Geto from leaning down to kiss you while he continued fucking his cum into you.
Once he broke the kiss, you got to get a good look at his handsome face. His hair was a mess, his bun had mostly come undone and small strands were sticking to his forehead from sweat.
Before the two of you could enjoy the afterglow or catch your breaths, you heard Gojo clear his throat.
Suddenly, shame overflowed all of your senses. Geto on the other hand was unphased, he pulled out of you to watch his cum ooze out from your pussy with amusement. He then whipped his head around to glare at Gojo. “Can’t you stop breathing so hard and moaning when you’re jerking off? I don’t wanna hear any of that when I’m fucking.”
The breaking of the character was fine. You were still lost in your own thoughts and unable to comprehend anything other than how you had lost your virginity to some ‘bad boy’ who was only kind to you. You laid on the floor, exhausted and stuck in your mind.
Gojo laughed, “Nanami, you’re seeing this? I told you he gets sooo mad when you do it, heheh”
“You’re speaking too bravely for someone who has his dick out.” Geto sat on the tatami floor, furrowing his eyebrows.
“What? Ya gonna suck it?”
“I will kill you,” he hissed.
The two were arguing with each other when Nanami got up from where he was sitting and walked over to you.
“Ah.” Gojo was smirking, staring at the tent on the blonde one’s pants. “He’s going at it.”
Geto hummed approvingly.
Nanami crouched next to your head, staring at your bare chest up close. You were gorgeous, your skin looked so soft and your face stained with tears…
He had been trying and trying and trying to hold back but you were too stunning. Seeing you from their perspectives had enchanted him, arousing him to the point of being unable to think clearly.
“Nanami?”
Your eyes were clouded with lust and he could see his own reflection in them. Right now, you needed him and he was more than willing to provide.
Nanami placed a hand on your cheek and caressed the soft skin before leaning in for a kiss. You didn’t refuse, accepting his lips pressing against yours. You tried moving them like Geto had done with you but Nanami’s kiss… It was more gentle yet more possessive. He pushed his tongue inside to twirl your tongues together, to make sure you remembered his taste for a lifetime as he desperately tried savoring yours.
Placing one hand on your tit to knead the soft flesh, he used his other hand to pull down his pants, releasing his aching cock free. As soon as his cock was out, he grabbed your hand and guided it to his exposed cock.
Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand back, breaking the kiss.
“Nanami, you can’t-”
“You are friends, right?” Gojo interrupted, appearing behind Nanami.
It was quiet for a moment before you nodded ever so hesitantly and looked at Nanami, attempting to avoid looking at his cock hovering over your face.
“Nanami wants you to be his first.” Gojo grinned down at you, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair.
“F-first? His-”
Nanami flushed bright red at the revelation and you found yourself blushing as well.
“You should help him out like Suguru did to you! That’s what friends are for!” Gojo’s encouraging words and the power of friendship talk were too much, Nanami almost went limp until Gojo grabbed your hand and guided it back to Nanami’s cock. “Here, I’ll help you.”
Both of you flinched at the intimate skin contact.
Gojo assisted your hand to wrap around the base and slide it up slowly towards the tip glistening with precum. You didn’t need to use your spit to get him nice and slick as his own precum was more than enough. Your classmate made you pull the thin skin towards the tip down to expose the pink tip of the blonde one’s cock whose shoulders tensed in response. “He seems to be sensitive around the tip. You should use your mouth and tease the tip, (name)! On second thought, he would love it if you let him use your mouth!”
All you did was to open your mouth to approve.
Oh, so obedient.
Nanami on the other hand was being torn apart.
He was better than this. He was a good person. He wouldn’t be the type of person to take advantage of some dumb girl to indulge in his own fantasies and-
“Here, lemme help, Nanami.”
Putting his hands on the younger one’s hips, Gojo pushed Nanami forward into your mouth. Your teeth barely grazed against the tip and he moaned at the sensation of your warm mouth. He couldn’t even get angry at Gojo.
Geto sat on the other side of you and instructed you to move closer to Nanami so you could take him in your mouth completely. He placed a hand on the back of your head and helped you bob your head, giving you praises.
Gojo didn’t need to move Nanami’s hips anymore, the blonde one was too lost in pleasure to hesitate or think about his nonexistent pride.
With you being on your hands and knees as you were giving Nanami a blowjob, Geto gave Gojo a thumb up, telling him everything was good to go.
Finally, getting his turn, Gojo slowly crawled behind you like a predator about to bounce on its unaware prey. He spat in his palm and started jerking himself off to get hard again, he had lost count of how many times he had come when Geto was devouring your cunt but he could go on until the morning.
“Arch your back, pipsqueak.”
Complying Geto’s words, you lifted your ass up in the air.
“Now, Gojo’s going to do something really naughty. Be careful not to bite Nanami.”
You made a noise in protest but Nanami silenced you with a sudden thrust of his hips. The tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat, making you gag. Which worked in his favor because now he could shove his cock further down your throat thanks to your tongue laying flat and jaw unclenched.
Gojo put a hand on your ass cheek and spread it, groping the soft flesh before drooling over your hole.
A wave of panic washed over you and you moved your hips to get away. Gojo had you exactly where he wanted though, he pushed two digits inside and stretched them slowly in a scissoring motion. He was breathing heavily while rubbing his cock at the display of you getting skullfucked and ass being played with by him.  
You started squirming, letting out panicked noises that were being muffled by Nanami’s cock in your mouth. The blonde was going insane by your throat clenching around him. His hips slammed into your face, shoving his cock down and down and down until your nose met the blonde hair on the base.
A cough, a gag, and suddenly your face was turning blue. Nanami had a sick expression on his face and the other two were too busy to notice your current problem of not being able to breathe.
“Satoru, stop making gross noises.”
“I can’t help it, she’s so erotic.” He gasped, incapable of holding another second back. He pressed the tip of his cock on your entrance and slowly pushed it inside.
Nanami grabbed a chunk of your hair and started fucking your face. He couldn’t stop thrusting inside your mouth and ravishing you. Making you his own cockslut.
Gojo was still trying to push himself inside you but you were just so tight.
“Shouldn’t you prepare her a little more?” Geto hid a laugh behind his hand.
“I like it tight,” Gojo replied, placing his hands on your hips to pull you towards himself as he was pushing into you.
Not letting you rest, Gojo pulled his hips back, only to suddenly slam into you until almost his entire length was inside. Gojo’s fun was cut short though, as Nanami was choking you with his cock, your walls clenched around Gojo’s cock enough to make him cum instantly.
Geto still hadn’t noticed your face turning blue and had thought his friend just couldn’t hold back anymore. He burst into laughter, making fun of him
The vibrations coming from your throat while you were trying to scream were too much for Nanami to handle. His cock twitched inside your throat moments before he came down your throat. He pulled out and rested his cock on your lips as the tip was still spurting his creamy seed.
He held you in place by your hair as your mouth opened and you tried spitting out his cum. Brows furrowing in pain and anger you glared up at him through your lashes that also happened to be covered in cum. Closing one eye, you continued glaring at him.
“Ahh, you look great covered in cum,” he said, wiping his cum away from your lips using his thumb and pressing a long kiss on your swollen lips. “Sorry, I got over myself.”
After his apology, your mood changed instantly. “Did it feel good?”
“It felt amazing!” Gojo answered instead of Nanami, “This guy probably felt good too, I saw his legs shaking in pleasure. You’re such a good girl, (name)!”
“She’s talented and lovely too.” Geto used your own pajama top to wipe your face. “Just my type.” He patted on your head, pressing a chaste kiss on your hair.
Now, you were blushing. “T-thank you.” You sat on the floor in the middle of all of them. Realizing that you were the only bare-naked person in the room made you cover yourself. “Um… Can I get a blanket or something?”
Nanami did as you politely asked while the other two started plotting their next move.
It was too easy to please you. Easier than to trick you.
Nanami joining them would make everything go butter smooth, this ‘friends don’t have boundaries with each other’ play could go on until you graduated. Geto was smirking at Gojo as he lit a cigarette, their senior year was going to be as boring as he thought it was going to be.
~~~
When Shoko returned to the campus three weeks after leaving, she wasn’t expecting you to be there.
But there you were in the secret smoking spot, sitting on Geto’s lap and trying to smoke a cigarette while Gojo laughed at your coughing. Nanami was smoking quietly but a gentle expression was on his face as he watched you try taking a drag from the cigarette again.
Perhaps, you were dumber than she gave you credit for. She wasn’t the one to judge though, she lit a cigarette and walked towards the group to join them teasing you.
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Hi! Idk what came over me but I thought an AU where Sander’s kid is anti-Bowie was the most hilarious thing thanks to @hidden-joy @kylesbishops and @sanderijzermans so I wrote it skdjdj
Disclaimer: it’s all fun and chaos and I don’t really know anything about how to write kids
x, x, x, x, credit to the chaos 🤪
The day Sander Driesen hears the words come out of his child’s mouth is the day he wonders if this is his child at all.
He’s standing there, leather jacket, white t-shirt and all, bleached hair icy even in the summer sun, and he looks down at the small stature in front of him. Grey-green eyes, dark locks and an air of confidence that could only be learned from a certain music-loving individual fill his sight. There’s so much innocence standing before him but a driven insistence breaks through the words spoken.
“Dad,” he hears. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but...I don’t really like David Bowie all that much.”
Sander thinks he’s lost his senses. He is definitely not hearing right. Hell, he’s only a man in his early thirties, he could not be this hard of hearing already. He tries to brace himself on the couch from falling over. Shit, he’s also too young to feel this frail.
“Wh-what do you mean you don’t like David Bowie all that much?”
The question comes out in gasps of air, ragged and winded, like he can’t believe what’s happening. He feels like his world’s spinning, like he’s entered another dimension, like there was no way, absolutely no way, his child doesn’t like David Bowie.
Denial is a pretty powerful thing, though...
See, when Alexandra Driesen was born, she brought light and life to Sander and Robbe’s eyes. She had a chubby face and squishy cheeks and eyes the colour of a summer storm. Her dark hair had been a blessing to match Robbe’s. Everything about her was as perfect as it could get. And then came the perpetual frustrations of parenthood with the screaming and the crying.
Sleep was something to be cherished at the Driesen-Ijzermans household. A few day-naps here and a doze-off there. But God, oh God, did Alexandra know how to cry in the middle of the night. Robbe and Sander spent hours upon hours holding her and swaying her and rocking her on a chair. Sander had read that sometimes music helps so he’d even done all that. Bowie usually floated in the shriek-filled room during these times and yet, Alexandra just wept.
“Come on, baby, just a little bit of sleep. Don’t you get tired of screaming all night?” Sander asked in that exhausted tone of parentese. He held her against the crook of his neck and walked around in sweats until he saw Robbe enter the room with blood-shot eyes and curls disarrayed.
“She’s still crying?” he asked with a rasp in his voice.
“She literally won’t stop and I don’t know what to do, I’ve tried everything. I’ve even got Bowie on for her,” he said.
Robbe took her from his arms and swayed her a little, cooing and kissing her tiny head.
“It’s kind of loud, though,” Robbe said to him as he then stepped over to turn off the music.
And in an instant miracle, the house was all quiet.
It seems that’s what’s always happened and Sander just hadn’t noticed it. Alexandra settled into Robbe’s chest and stretched her mouth in a heavy yawn. Her warmth radiated and glowed through Robbe, but Sander was stunned. He’s completely shocked.
“You-she-“ he stuttered clumsily for a bit. “But it was Bowie,” he said weakly.
How could his own daughter not feel at peace with Bowie? It was a connection he held with him, something connecting him and Robbe and what he hoped would connect their child to them in this little family.
“Hmmm,” Robbe hums pensively. “Maybe Bowie’s not her thing.”
“Not her thing?” Sander just about exploded. Then he suddenly remembered Alexandra’s finally gone to sleep and whispered, seething. “That is not our child!”
“Biologically, no. Legally and emotionally, yes,” smirked Robbe. “Calm down, babe, she’ll learn to like him soon enough. For now, how about we hold off on Bowie for a bit, yeah?”
He swayed her just a little more, just to really make sure she’s easing into sleep and then set her gently back down in her crib.
“How long?” Sander muttered and Robbe gave him a confused look. “How long without Bowie?”
Robbe contemplated.
“Maybe we give it six months or so,” he said.
And now it was Sander who wanted to weep. -
As the months and years went on, Alexandra had gone on without her Bowie-loving phase, only mildly being interested in the lightning bolt plushies and the songs blasting on road trips and the shirts Sander would get for her. Robbe says it just takes time for kids to get into stuff. That it’s better to leave it there in the open for them than to shove it down their throats.
“It’s barely any shoving,” Sander had grumbled.
“I know, babe. But I know how you can get sometimes,” Robbe had placed a soothing kiss upon his lips.
Still, Sander’s worries were increasingly growing.
Then a few years later, they’d adopted another beautiful girl. Mia was a radiant vision of blonde curls and brown eyes. They held a similar warmth that Robbe’s eyes held and Sander couldn’t be happier to lose himself in pools of coffee or dark, earthy soils or any other sort of metaphor for his favourite kind of brown.
To his relief, though, Mia loved listening to Bowie. She loved playing with the lightning bolt plushy and wearing all the shirts and as she grew, she and Sander had lots of music jam sessions blasting Bowie throughout the house. Alexandra was enticed into joining for a bit in the beginning but as time went on, Sander found it that she was making more and more excuses to not be in the same room when Bowie was mentioned.
“Uh, I got homework, Dad,” she’d nervously run her fingers through her hair.
“Uh, Papa needs help with dinner I think,” she’d run out with a tight smile.
“Group project due soon. Léon’s being a piece of shit and not pulling his weight at all.”
“Language,” Robbe would chastise coming around the corner.
“He’s being a dick?” she suggested.
“Fuck him.”
“Sander!”
“Sorry.”
Her interests lay instead in skateboarding with her friends, headphones in her ears listening to rap: BROCKHAMPTON and Stormzy with even a little Ed Sheeran in the mix, and keeping her hair as short as possible. She’d had a bit of a habit wearing overgrown shirts like Robbe did. But Sander found that endearing and he didn’t really think it was a case of ‘not-like-other-girls’ syndrome. He and Robbe just let her wear whatever she wanted.
And in fact, it was at thirteen years of age that Alexandra came out to the family as a boy. Sander remembers it clearly with them all huddled on the couch looking at the person in front of them with beady eyes, waiting.
“Dad, Papa, Mia. I think I’m a boy. I think I’m trans and I’d like to formally introduce myself to you all. I’m Alexander, or just Alex. And I use he/they pronouns.”
Sander had wanted to tear up, emotions flooding inside his rib cage. Happy tears, though, a joyous occasion where his son felt comfortable enough to tell them about this part of himself. That he and Robbe had created a space where he felt safe enough. Loved enough.
“I kept Alexander ‘cause, Sander,” he gestured to Sander. “But really, Alex is fine.”
And Sander wanted to cry all over again.
They’d all been encased in a huge family hug with Mia chirping that she’d ‘always wanted a big brother.’
Robbe and Sander had been quite supportive of it all, calling the school to change both the name and preferred name and asking if Alex was considering wearing a binder or getting a proper haircut. “Yes” to the haircut. “Hold off for a bit” on the binder. He’d whined a “Daaaaaad” when Sander ruffled the short brown locks. Most of Alex’s friends were cool with it, too and while it wasn’t all smooth sailing, he’d never run out of love from his family.
It was a big change and everything, but Sander thought, well...as long as he had his Bowie-loving children, it was all fine. -
It’s his worst nightmare. It’s the stuff that haunts you from the depths of the worst kind of hell, making your limbs feel like jelly. He’s cursing every name and divine entity and he’s really hoping Robbe’s right about those parallel universes because he’d love to hop over to the one where this wasn’t happening right now.
Sander’s having a hard time even looking at Alex in the eye.
“Dad?” he hears his concerned voice.
“I think I need to sit down,” says Sander, grabbing the armrest of the couch, lowering himself onto the cushion.
“It’s really not a big deal,” says Alex.
“Not a big deal?” Sander looks at him with wide eyes. “My own son hates David Bowie.”
“I never said I-“
“The man who infinitely changed my life. Space Oddity, Life on Mars, Ziggy Stardust, Ashes to Ashes. None of them?” Sander waves his arms. “You’re telling me you like none of them?”
“They’re...fine, I guess,” Alex shrugs innocently with a cringe to his face.
“Fine?” Sander squeaks.
“What’s fine?” Robbe trudges to them overhearing the conversation.
“Your son hates Bowie,” Sander squints his eyes at him.
“I do not,” says Alex. “I’m just pretty indifferent to him. He’s not exactly my style,” he shrugs, his hoodie moving with the movement.
“And what is your style?” Robbe laughs as he comes up behind him to rub his shoulders. He looks up at Sander with long lashes and a questioning smile stretching across his face. They share one of those ‘parenting looks.’ The ones where they know it’s not all that serious. But Sander thinks it is.
“A bit of rap, a bit of hip hop, some pop, some mainstream,” Alex lists off. “Not exactly the ‘80s vibes in me,” he laughs.
Robbe cheers as their tastes in music are quite similar and he proceeds to carry out their very own handshake they’d created when Alex was nine. There’s a different one with Sander. Sander, who’s getting more and more agitated by this revelation.
“Oh, okay,” he pats his knees and stands up. “Well, if you two are having such a grand time hating Bowie and bonding over your own music, I’ll just take myself and leave. No child of mine doesn’t like David Bowie,” he says dramatically.
“Sander…” Robbe looks at him.
“Dad…” says Alex.
“No, no. It’s fine. Really,” he begrudgingly walks out of the living room, almost knocking into Mia on the way.
“What’s with him?” she blinks twice and points a finger back.
Robbe sighs as he looks back at Alex.
“Your father, he…” Robbe puts a hand on his shoulder. “Bowie’s practically his life and so are the two of you, so I guess it’s really important to him that you like him, too. He’s just gonna need some time with all this.”
His eyes are apologetic and he gives him a half-smile, hand leaving his shoulder.
Alex takes in the words while Mia wiggles herself onto the couch and finds the tv remote beside her.
“You finally told him about Bowie, huh?” she gives him a gravely sad look. One that says he’s about to be doomed.
Alex just lets out a stressed breath as Robbe follows to go find Sander.
What’s so special about David Bowie anyway?
————————————————————————
Part 2 is coming! IM SO SORRY SKDJJF I just need sleep and rest
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A Peculiar Hobbit (Pippin x Fem!Reader)
Word Count: 1857
Warnings: fluff, fighting
Requested: by anon
I thought this would be a fun write, and I had a lot of freedom with this one and it was fun! Short and sweet! Might possibly do a part 2, maybe super angsty, who knows?
You walked through the stacks of books, trying to find the right one for your research. “No no no, this isn’t right!” you talked to yourself, almost kicking a stack of papers in your frustration. “They must have gotten lost. These boneheads lost valuable information, they’ll have hell to pay.” This time, you kicked another stack of books, and it fell. It slammed down onto your legs, and you cried out in pain. You fell to the ground, and moved the books off of you, rubbing the sore spot it left.
“Um, excuse me,” You heard from the darkened corner. Whoever was speaking had a peculiar accent. It sounded like a male, but a young one. “I hope I’m not interrupting something. I was sent here to find something, and well, it seems like something happened?”
You rolled your eyes, you had a bad enough day already. Now you had to deal with actual people. “Well, I am fine enough. What can I do for you?” You tried your hardest to speak in a polite manner, but it came out a bit snappy. It was odd to speak to darkness in the corners anyway. Who could blame you?
“Miss, I truly am sorry for interrupting, if you just want me to leave, I will.” The voice stuttered. 
You sighed. “I promise it is fine. Come in.” The fire was dwindling, so you threw some more kindling in, giving the stranger some time. When you turned around you saw a child looking at you. No, he had the height of a child. But he looked older. Clearly, you looked astonished, as the child thing started chuckling. 
“Oh, you have never seen a Hobbit before. For someone that spends much time in here, you haven’t seen much outside. What is your name miss?” He spoke between his laughs. His cheeks were a merry red, and his curls framed his face. 
But something about his statement rubbed you the wrong way. “Well excuse me, you know nothing about me. You don’t know whether I go outside or not, whether I spend all my time in here.” You spoke indignantly, after all, who was he to judge your lifestyle. This only caused him to laugh even more. “And for your information, I know exactly what a Hobbit is, I just have never come across one. Very well then, go find what you’re looking for. Also, my name is y/n, not that you need to know.” 
“Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He grinned and began looking around, leaving you with your mouth gaping.
As he shuffled through the books and scrolls, you looked at him curiously, at his frame, his size. As you scanned him, you noticed things that made him look less of a child. His chest was broader, and his arms were bigger. His face still had a childish innocence about it, one that hadn’t quite been taken during these dark times. His cheekbones were beginning to hollow out though, and the light in his eyes was probably not as bright as they used to be. 
He sneezed, making you jump, and you hurried over to where he was, making sure he hadn’t disturbed too much. You picked up some books, placed them on the counter, and began questioning him.  “Now tell me, what is your name?”
“Peregrin. Peregrin Took,” he stated proudly. 
I cocked an eyebrow, doubtful of that. He seemed to be too much of a jokester to have such a formal name like Peregrin. It was a nice name, no doubt, but it didn’t fit. “Peregrin hm? Are you sure?”
He looked down bashfully, but then looked up with a sly grin. “Ok fine, I go by Pippin. Now that you have seen a hobbit, your life is complete! Especially since that hobbit is me.” He winked, and you suppressed a smile, not wanting him to be egged on. “Anyways, I am the best hobbit for you to meet since I am the most handsome. I have the best smile, except maybe my friend Merry, he has a good smile. Oh also, my friend Frodo, he has good eyes.” His smile faltered for a second.
“Are you ok?” You questioned. 
He looked up from the scrolls he was reading, the happiness he previously had slowly melted away. “Aye, I am alright. I am. But I don’t know about the rest of my companions.” 
You grabbed two cushions and planted them on the floor. “Would you like to talk about it?”
He nodded and sat next to you. It became apparent how much he had lost during this time. He told you about his home, The Shire, and how he ended up on this journey. The encounters he had along the way. How they were in danger very quickly. He also told how he lost many friends, including the Captain of Gondor, Boromir. He teared up, telling the sacrifice he made to save them, even if it didn’t at first. It hurt to see such a fragile creature have the need to toughen up, to harden, to scar. He spoke of his friends leaving, how he was not sure where they might be. If they were still alive. 
Once he was finished, you spoke. “Well, that is certainly a story to tell. And there will be more chapters to your book. I sincerely hope everything goes your way, a person as young as you should not have had to go through all of this.”
He smirked, his happy demeanor slowly coming back. “How young do you think I am? I am 29, a fairly good age if I do say so myself.” 
You spluttered, surprised at that. You remember reading somewhere something about that, but you thought it was rubbish. “You must be joking. No way are you older than me!”
Pippin smiled and nodded. “Well, I hate to break it to you, no, I love to break it to you, I am 29. Not younger, not older.”
“Hmm, interesting,” You hummed, picking yourself up off the ground. “Well, we should probably find what you’re looking for.” You turned around, accidentally slamming into a huge pile of books. Something about that hobbit made you flustered and turned you into a clumsy mess. And this was not going to get better. The pile slowly teetered, and you stayed frozen, unable to move your legs. 
“Y/n, watch out!” Pippin yelled, tackling you to the ground. Just in time, the stack made an earthshattering sound when it hit the ground, sending dust everywhere. Pippin laid on top of you, his head resting on your chest. 
You coughed, and he rolled off, laying next to you instead. “Thank you,” you whispered, brushing some of the dust off of your clothes. Pippin’s curls were covered in dust, and he smiled wryly, brushing some specks off your forehead. You cleared your throat and he pulled away quickly, the slightest hint of pink warming his cheeks.
He sat up quickly, brushing the rest of the debris off of himself. “Well, this wasn’t what I expected when I decided to make my way down here, but it was better than I could have hoped for.” He helped you sit up and then planted a kiss on your cheek. “Until next time!” he joyously called, skipping back up the stairs. You touched where he kissed you, beaming. This was going to be a better day than most days.
Everything was going fine, and you kept on replaying the time you had spent with Pippin until you heard a large boom, shaking the entire city. You heard the war cry of thousands of orcs and realized very quickly that you were under attack. “Damn it! This is why I shouldn’t have holed up here!” You yelled, quickly grabbing your sword from the dustiest, dark corner. It was a gift from your father, that he had trained you to use, but you thought you would never need.
You sped up the stairs, reaching sunlight. You shielded your face, letting your eyes adjust to the brightness, before turning to the pathway. You jogged through, trying to conserve some of your energy, though it might all be in vain. Objects were being thrown at the city, tumbling buildings and humans alike. All was chaos, and it swept you into it. 
You made it to a small alcove where you could see the army that had amassed before Gondor. The army that would bring the fall. Your sword hung loosely by your side, and you saw everything flash before your eyes. Memories forgotten, brought back, people you vaguely remembered. How much you had missed out on the world, hiding out in your book-hole instead. How much you could have seen if you had taken the chance. And now it was your time to go, just like that. You shook yourself out of that stupor, and raced on, trying to get farther up. 
Soldiers were being rallied by a stranger in white cloaks, and you passed by, working your way up farther. Out of nowhere, a person turned the corner, slamming into you. You fell to the ground, your sword clattering. “I’m sorry,” you spoke hurriedly, picking up the sword and moving on.
“Well, are you really just going to run off like that?” Pippin asked in his strong accent. You turned back, your jaw dropped. You had never expected him to be part of a battle, but here he was. You didn’t have time to answer before another crowd of orcs attacked. You took down as many as you could, and heard a cry of pain from behind you. You turned to see Pippin’s sword cutting deep through an orc. He had some bruises on his face but otherwise, he was fine. You grabbed him, pulling him away from the chaos. A battle was no place for a hobbit. 
“What are you doing?” He yelled, thrashing his arms about. You grit your teeth, finally at the citadel. 
You sighed, turning to look at him. “I need you to be safe. If I know you’re out here fighting, it will only distract me.”
He crossed his arms, his face slightly pouted. All of a sudden, his eyes lit up, and a smirk grew on his face. “Fine, I’ll stay here. On one condition. Let me kiss you. Just once.” He laughed, and you looked astounded at his cockiness. 
You had nothing left to lose though, so you agreed. “Okay, I will, but I am warning you Pippin, no tongue.” He grinned, and leaned in, planting a kiss directly on your lips. He didn’t linger for too long, his chapped lips creating a little friction. He pulled away first, leaving you a little dazed. You shook yourself out of your stupor and brushed your hair out of your face. “Goodbye, Pippin. I will see you soon,” you promised, even though you knew it was unlikely. He knew it was unlikely as well, you could see it in his eyes, but he still had a little bit of hope. And even a little bit of hope goes a long way. 
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tanyawritesstories · 4 years
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Bliss Beneath Waves | Kit Fisto x Reader
Here is the fic based off this request. Sorry it took so long, anon 🥺 I loved the idea that this inspired! You can either think of it as before the Clone Wars or if they never happened, since it's peaceful and cute. 🥰 Also, I just started reading The Cestus Deception and have been simping extra hard over Kit recently 😍😍 enjoy!!
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: fluff, one NSFW scene, fingering, cuddling, adorable themes, more fluff, Kit is such a sweetheart and I love him
•••
The planet was gorgeous at night. It’s moon was closer to it than on Coruscant and provided more light, bathing everything in a soft blue glow. The surface of the planet was mostly water with islands of every size scattered about here and there. The only noise was that of the gentle waves lapping at the shore and songbirds whistling their lullabies for all to hear. It was so peaceful, even if you were sitting by yourself on a boulder at the edge of the water, not currently joined with your partner just yet.
You closed your eyes and breathed in the fresh air. Glee Anselm was one of the favorite planets you’d ever visited and it wasn’t just because the locals were nice and the scenery was beautiful. It held a special place in your heart. You smiled thinking of all the reasons why it did.
One of those reasons was currently walking towards the rocks where you were sitting. You could faintly hear the shuffling of the sand as it sunk under his boots, your smile widened. You knew he was looking at you. You heard what sounded like clothes rustling together before small grunts as he clambered onto your rock, sitting down beside you. “Evening, my love,” he greeted. You turned your head, still smiling, and was treated to the sight of Kit, looking just as happy as you. “How did your mission go?” You asked.
“It went great,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I didn’t expect it to go so well. The Senator even invited me to dinner afterwards, hence why I was so late. You remember meeting her, don’t you?” You nodded, resting your head on his chest. “I remember. I’m shocked you two are still good friends despite the idea that politicians and Jedi don’t mix.” He chuckled. “She and I have been friends for years, our political ideals and lifestyles don’t get in the way of that.”
You had initially been a bit jealous when you first met the Senator of Kit’s home planet. He seemed very fond of her, and her of him. Kit had sensed your emotions and explained that Senator Kadis and himself had been good friends when they were growing up. When he became a Jedi he took attachment very seriously and purposely forgot about her, but as he grew older and more comfortable with his life, his interpretations of the code had loosened and that had been when he met you. His relationship with you was stronger than anything and nothing could tear him away from you.
You both sat in silence for a few minutes until Kit noticed your attire. “Where did you get this dress?” He asked, thumbing the material. You had almost forgotten that you were wearing such a nice outfit. “I had a formal dinner meeting to attend, I came here right after,” you explained. “I don’t mean to sound dull, sweet thing, but your business dealings sound more boring than anything the Senate has to offer,” he commented. You laughed. “They are for the most part,” you agreed, “but I love investing in promising people and helping their ideas make it big.”
Kit smiled and returned his attention to your dress. It wasn’t anything too fancy. It had been a warm Coruscant summer day and you wanted something that would keep you from overheating. It was a light yellow flowy, strapless dress that came down to your knees. A white ribbon with a small bow acted as a belt around your middle, and also kept the chiffon fabric from getting out of control. “Where did you get it?” He inquired. “Just a small store I found, it was the cheapest formal looking thing I could find,” you answered. He hummed, “you look stunning in it.” You smiled, a small blush dusting your cheeks and ears. “Thank you, baby.”
Kit decided it was that time in the day to relax and promptly whisked off his shirt, leaving him in just a loose pair of knee-length, brown pants. “Would you like to join me for a swim, darling?” He asked, slipping off the boulder and into the water. “I’ll think about it,” you said. You swung your legs off the rock, letting your feet dip into the water as you watched Kit walk into deeper water and dive under. You hadn’t known much about Nautolans when you first met Kit four years ago. You remember how sheepish you felt after you got worried when he had been underwater for ten minutes without surfacing, only to have someone tell you that his species was mostly aquatic and had gills to breathe underwater.
Kit resurfaced near you and swam over, running his hands up and down your legs, coating them in a sheen of warm water. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” He wondered. “I’m fine right here, for now,” you replied. Kit planted a few kisses to your calf before smirking to himself and looking up at you with an innocent stare. “How much did you say you paid for this dress?” You looked down at him, curious as to why he was asking. “Not much, why?” Kit moved his hands farther up your legs. “Do you like it a lot?” You shrugged, “I mean it’s alright, it’s not my favorite thing I’ve ever purchased. Why are you-”
“So you wouldn’t mind if it got a little ruined, would you?” Kit asked with a devious smirk. You were confused until his grip on your legs tightened, by the time you realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it. “No, no, no, Kit!” You shouted in shock as he pulled on your legs, dragging you off the rock and into the water. He caught you in his arms before you completely submerged, laughing at the annoyed expression on your face. “What? You said it wasn’t your favorite,” he joked, his smile so big and genuine that you had a hard time finding it in you to be mad at him. At least the water was warm.
“You’re lucky I love you,” you joked along with. Your arms linked around the back of his neck bringing you closer together. Kit cupped your cheek and brought your lips to his. The kiss started slow, but it quickly escalated into heated passion and want. One of Kit’s hands wandered down to the hem of your dress, running his hand up your thigh and pushing the wet fabric up. You broke away with a small gasp. “Kit…” you breathed. “Shh, I know, we don’t have much time,” he said, “but I’ve finally got some alone time with my wife, there is no way I’m going to spend it without pleasuring you in some way..”
You whined and wrapped one of your legs around his waist, opening them just enough for Kit to rest his hand on your barely covered sex. “You’re warm down here,” he observed, sending you a lust filled glance. “Well, my husband did just promise to finger-fuck me within an inch of my life so I don’t know what you expect, you handsome devil,” you replied cheekily. Kit chuckled, the sound a low and enticing rumble. “Then finger-fuck you within an inch of your life I shall do,” he settled. In a few quick movements Kit pushed the offending fabric of your thong aside and ran two fingers firmly along your slit.
You gasped and gripped onto his shoulders, grinding down onto his long digits. Kit attached his lips to your neck and gently nibbled, he didn’t want to leave marks knowing where you both would be heading after this. He teased your entrance before sinking two fingers deep into your needy cunt. “Kit..” you moaned out, running your hands through his head tendrils softly. He groaned in response, working his way down to lick the skin of your collarbone. His fingers sped up, your slickness combined with the water meant little to no resistance for his fingers. Your breathing was shallow and you squealed when he hit your hidden pleasure point. He hummed, now nibbling on your earlobe. “You going to cum on my fingers, sweet one?” His thumb found your clit and he rubbed firm circles on it. You only nodded, not able to produce words.
His fingers were thrusting in and out at a blinding pace now, he curled his fingers up sharp and hard, sending you over the edge. You wailed as your orgasm washed over you, Kit removed his fingers when it got too much for you. He gently pulled your panties back in place and watched as you came down from bliss. You sighed happily, continuing to run your hands over and through his head tentacles, it helped you both relax. When Kit was calm he gave off a calming aura that you latched onto, bringing yourself into the same headspace. He nuzzled into your touch as one hand moved to his back and you pulled him in for a tight hug. You massaged his back, working out any tension in his muscles, the water providing an extra relaxing effect.
After a while of calming down and spending time loving in silence, you both decided it was time to get moving. You both exited the water and dried off the best you could, heading to a familiar side of town once you were both presentable. “I hope your mother won’t be angry that we’re fifteen minutes late,” you wondered aloud. You and Kit stopped at a simple, cozy looking house at the end of the road, where Kit began pushing in the code for the front door. “I’m sure she won’t mind, you know she loves the kids,” he assured.
The door opened and you both stepped inside, not seeing anyone at first. You weren’t standing for very long until you heard the thundering of footsteps coming your way, the two young boys rounded the corner, barreling towards you and Kit. “Aiden! Mika! We missed you,” Kit said, kneeling on the floor as his son ran to him at full speed. “Mommy, dada! You’re back!” They both shouted. Mika ran to you and you grabbed under his arms, lifting the youngster into your arms and balancing him on your hip. Aiden ran straight into his father’s arms and Kit scooped him up and spun him around. Kit’s mother rounded the corner shortly after with a smile on her face. “You two came back just in time, they were starting to get restless,” she said.
“Thank you again for watching them.” You said, planting a kiss to Mika’s forehead and smoothing your hands over his tiny head tentacles that were just starting to grow out. “Daddy, can we go home now, I’m getting tired,” Aiden voiced with a yawn. “Of course, little man,” Kit answered, “say goodbye to your grandmother now.” Both boys waved and said numerous goodbyes as you and Kit carried them out of the house. Your ship was parked a short distance away and by the time you reached it Mika had fallen asleep in your arms and Aiden could barely keep his eyes open. You got to the ship and set both boys down in their on-board bunks, kissing them goodnight before you and Kit joined each other in the cockpit.
You pecked a kiss to his cheek as he punched in the coordinates for Coruscant. “I love you, Kit,” you said. He smiled and planted a kiss on your cheek as well. “I love you too, darling. Now strap in, it’ll be awhile before we reach home.”
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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years
Text
We made a vow (Ethan x MC)
Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC
A/N:  Hey, hi, hello! How are we doing this (kinda, but not really, uni started and I feel the need to sleep and complain even tho nothing has happened yet, really) fine day? It's weekend, guys! Yesterday I got an ask with an idea that felt way too painful and emotional for me to not write. (I almost cried while writing it, cause I got emo :) ) So, we brainstormed; we wrote; we made an edit; here we are now.
It’s part of the ESIMY series but can be read as a separate work. (E and C got married before they started working together. That’s about all you need to know.)
Tag list: @paleweasels | @kittykatchoices | @valiantlychaoticbarbarian |   @radlovedreamer | @usuallyamazinglyaverage | @awhmilkywey |   @cordoniaqueensworld | @princess-geek | @faithhasnowords | @mightyfangirlofthefandoms | @drakewalkerfantasy | @timmagicktoad  @laceandlula | @greywitchyshots | @llamasgrl |  @gingerjane15 |    @marywrites-things | @ethanplaysfavorites | @mfackenthal | @betelgeusebee | @simsvetements | @owleyes374 | @aworldoffandoms | @l822 | @cream-ray | @silverlitskies | @justendlesssummerfeels | @togetherwearerapture | @desmaranj | @edgiestwinter | @friedherringclodthing | @waytooattuned | @choicesgremlin | @lapisreviewsstuff | @writerapprentice | @chasingrobbie | @x-kyne-x | @thisperfectmemory | @drakewalker04 | @rookie-ramsey | @jlynn12273 | @thepinknymph |  @dr-brianna-casey-valentine | @a-i-n-a-a-s-h | @justanotherrookie |  @mvalentine | @starrystarrytrouble | @akshara16 |  @maurine07 |  @natzz-b |  @aylamreads  | @openheartthot | @tsrookie | @takemyopenheart | @mrsramseyy | @blossomanarchy | @thegreentwin | @doilooklikeiknow​
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Summary: What impact would the events of Chapter 11 have on Ethan and Claire if they were married at the time? 
Enjoy! <3
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Nothing that happened so far that day clued him in that something was about to happen. He went about his day as usual, depending on his coffee to push him through the sleepiness he was feeling. A slight smirk appeared on his lips every time he remembered how his wife kept him up all night, being the sole reason for his tiredness. She would, of course, deny everything and say that it was him who kept her up, not the other way around, but in those moments, neither of them ever cared who started and who made it last.
Everything that day was going perfectly. Which should have been his first red flag.
He never would have believed it was possible to happen, but as soon as he turned the corner, the air changed. A blow to his chest and a hand wrapping around his heart, squeezing tighter with each step forward he took. It was getting harder to breathe and he couldn’t explain it. Then he looked inside the room of the senator, and suddenly he knew everything and nothing at once.
Claire noticed him almost immediately. Their silent conversation lasted only a fraction of a second, after which he was throwing himself at the door, trying to reach her and find answers to his confusion. But the door wouldn’t budge; her grip on the handle was tight, her shoulder keeping the door closed.
“Ethan, don’t come in here.” She exclaimed, panic seeping into her features. He didn’t understand; he desperately needed to, though, because with each moment that passed with a barrier between them, the chances of him keeping a level head were getting smaller and smaller.
“Claire, what’s happening?” he asked, pulling his eyes away from her, not without effort, to diagnose the situation in the room. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, painting a horrifying picture in his mind. He looked back at her, pleading with his gaze for her to tell him that it wasn’t what he already knew was the case. But she couldn’t do that.
“Travis just tried to kill the Senator. Ed escaped, and whatever was in that can got on Travis, Danny and Bobby. Rafael and I were affected too, though not as much.”
“How much?”
“I breathed some in. Maybe some more on my hands.” They both looked down at her wrists, a layer of an unknown substance sparkling in the bright light of the room. “It’s bad, Ethan. I just don’t know how bad yet.”
Ethan refused to look away from her for a long moment. If only he could take her into his arms and shield her from it all. They could be far away from this, far away from idiots like the Senator, far away from danger. It was too late for that now; she was already affected. She could already be on her way to leaving him, and all he was able do was stop and stare at her. Scared that if he looked away, she would disappear.
After making sure that no one could see her face, she mouthed ‘I love you’, her lower lip trembling as tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. He couldn’t mirror her gesture, with people standing behind her having the potential to see him, but he could place his hand on the glass and pretend that he could feel the warmth of her hand when she did that too.
“I’ll make it right, Claire. You’re not dying on me. Not now, not ever.”
--------------
“Dr. Herondale, you need to change into these.” A nurse’s voice was a bit quiet due to the hazmat suit she wore. Extending her hand, she handed Claire a plain gown, waiting patiently for her to change in the bathroom. When she was handed back the clothes the blonde doctor was wearing, she noticed a necklace around her neck. “All the jewelry too.”
Claire shook her head. “I never take this off. I can’t.”
“I’m afraid there’s no other choice, Dr. Herondale. I’m sorry about that.” She responded with a sympathetic look on her face, but there was no discussion.
With a shuddered breath, Claire reached for the clasp at the back of her neck, taking the necklace off tenderly. A golden band was hanging from it. Her wedding ring. When she’s at work, she keeps it hidden to not raise any questions, and so does Ethan. But as soon as their shifts end, they fall back into the comfort of their marriage and rings go back on their fingers.
She traced the rim of the ring with her thumb. Pensively, she turned to the nurse. “Can you give it to Dr. Ramsey? For safekeeping?”
“Of course, I’ll get that to him right away.”
Claire didn’t have to wait long to see her husband again. As soon as he got the ring, he shot up from his seat and practically ran to her. She was sitting by the wall, eyes closed most likely due to a wave of nausea that she was complaining about the last time he saw her.
“Claire?” he called out, his voice coming out much gentler than he knew it should. She looked at him, standing up slowly to walk over to the window. She didn’t even have to ask to know why he was there.”
“You got it, right?” she asked as a formality, an attempt to make them both feel better. He laughed quietly, raising his hand to show her a thin golden chain, wrapped around his hand lightly, a sparkling band touching his wrist.
“How are you feeling?” he nodded towards the room, grasping at any shred of information to ease his mind even a little bit.
“My head hurts a bit, but nothing else has changed. Any progress on the diagnosis?” as soon as the question left her mouth, his face fell. He shook his head, closing his eyes in shame.
“I feel like I’m letting you down.”
“Ethan, no.” she interrupted him before he could say anything else. “I can’t shake you literally, so you’re going to have to do that yourself. None, and I mean it, none of this is your fault. You hear me?”
“Yes, Dr. Herondale.” He teased, smiling for the first time since the incident. He hesitated for a bit, then decided to go with his idea. Unwrapping the chain from around his hand, he slipped it around his neck, letting it rest against his chest, protected from the view by the fabric of his shirt. “You better come out to take it back. I have mine, it needs you to have the other one.”
-------------
Sienna was keeping her eyes trained on the road ahead of them, nervously twisting her fingers. Ethan was almost waiting for his wife’s friend to ask the question that he could practically hear in the way she was shaking impatiently in her seat.
“Claire talks a lot about you.” she said innocently, doing exactly what Ethan expected her to do. And yet, he didn’t know how to respond. You should have thought of a response.
“We’re friends.” He decided to play it safe, hoping that she would drop the subject. She didn’t.
“It seems like more than friends, with all due respect.”
Ethan was never a person to say the first thing that comes to his mind. So why did he start now? “I have feelings for her.” And as soon as the words left his mouth, a flash of cold ran down his spine, freezing him in place.
Sienna gasped, her face lighting up giddily. “I freaking knew it! You have the vibe!”
“I beg your pardon?” Ethan stuttered, trying to do some damage control that he knew was most likely a futile effort. She turned to look at him with a serious glint in her eyes.
“It’s very subtle, I just notice those things. Does she know? About your feelings?”
“She does.”
“So you two are dating?” another excited scream filled the air in the car, making him feel as though the walls were closing in on him. They spent so long trying to keep their feelings hidden, and then there was Sienna that seemingly saw through it all, even if she didn’t know the details. Clearly, she didn’t know everything, but with enough reckless confessions from him, she’d put it all together.
“No.” he answered truthfully. “We’re not dating. We talked about it and decided to stay away from each other at work, so we wouldn’t risk her career. And that’s all I’ll say on that matter.” He added, cutting her short when he saw her opening her mouth to ask more questions.
The only sound that could be heard was the gently hum of the car moving on the concrete. The atmosphere got heavier as the glooming vision of possible tragedy hung over their heads.
“Do you think they’ll survive this?” Sienna asked quietly, fighting the tightness in her throat and the tears in her eyes. Ethan didn’t want to have to think about it. Up until this point, he wouldn’t let himself even think about the possibility of losing Claire.
“I- I don’t know.” He hated not having an answer, hated the feeling of uncertainty. He’s been terrified before; he’s felt helplessness before too. This time was worse on so many levels that his mind refused to register all of them. His determination was burning in his chest, fighting the terror in his mind. It wasn’t over. Not yet. “But I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that they do.”
-------------
They’re left alone as their friends and colleagues rushed off to race against the time and find the cure. Ethan stood by her side, looking at her from behind the plastic pane of his suit, his whole body aching as though he’s ran a marathon. Because in a way, he did. She was looking at him with tired eyes, her signature glimmer in her eyes gone. The only thing that was still left of his wife that hasn’t changed was the smile on her face. A smile she had only for him; a smile that was the first thing that made him fall for her. He could see through her façade, though, knowing how much it cost her to smile like that.
“Claire, I-“ he started speaking. He thought he was strong enough to pull them both through it. How wrong he was. He choked on his words, all defenses falling to the ground and baring him to the pain that was shadowing him for the whole day. She fell into his arms, her tears trailing down the stiff layer of his suit, the skin of her cheek sticking to it uncomfortably.
“Promise me.” she whispered, trying to clear her throat enough to make her voice more audible. “Promise me that you won’t shut down. That you won’t push everyone away.” she felt him freeze when he realized what she was doing. He tired to move away so he could protest, but she kept him in place firmly, her arms holding onto his waist tightly. “Promise me you’ll take care of Jenner. And let Naveen in. And Alan. And Louise.” He stopped fighting, surprised by her words. She nodded, nuzzling her face into his chest. “Yes, her too. You’re going to need people to survive this if- if I-“
She started hyperventilating, unable to finish whatever sentence she had in mind. Ethan’s grip on her grounded her in reality that she didn’t want to be in but wouldn’t have it any other way at the same time. Because in this reality, she had him, and he was everything she ever needed. She wouldn’t give him up for anything.
Ethan’s entire body began to shake, wrecked by sobs that stole the air he was supposed to be breathing. He picked her up and carried her to bed, gathering her in his arms and rocking them both in a gentle back and forth motion.
“Stop. You’re not dying. You’re not leaving me this soon, and I’m not leaving you either. We promised each other a life together.” He picked her left hand up, pressing his thumb to her ring finger. Remembering that her ring was with him, he places her hand over the place it was resting, letting her feel the outlines of it through the rough material of the suit. “It’s waiting to go back on that little finger of yours. And it will. We’re gonna find a cure and you’ll be fine.” His embrace brought her closed, making her basically lie down on top of him, as close as their current situation would allow.
“I’m going to take you back home and take care of you. Help you overcome all the demons that haunt that beautiful mind of yours.” He continued, their legs tangled despite hers being covered by the blanket, her hand holding onto his tightly, wishing she could feel his skin instead of a thick layer of plastic. “I’m going to love you so much and so hard that you’ll forget about the world outside. I love you Claire. We’re going to have a long and happy life together, you, Jenner and I.”
“And we’ll get a cat.” She laughed, the sound mixing with her sobs that slowly begun to subside. He smiled at the thought, finding it hard to disagree with her.
“I’m sure Jenner would love that.”
“I already asked and got the approval.”
“Of course you did.” there was lightness in his voice, some of the weight lifted off his chest. Long as she was breathing, talking and holding him tight, there was still time. “We’re going to get through this.” he whispered, holding her long into the night as she slept.
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Next morning brought them the hope they needed along with the cure. Hour after hour, her situation was looking up and eventually, she was cleared to be transferred to the other room. Claire couldn’t begin to explain the sheer happiness she felt when she saw her husband walk through the door without that ridiculous suit on. Her body came to life when she embraced him tightly and actually felt him, the warmth of his body, the lines of his muscles, all of which she knew by heart. Tears were falling down her cheeks and his, mixing together the further down they were, and their embrace didn’t seem friendly, but they were both beyond the point of caring. No more distance, no more danger to keep them away from each other.
Ethan walked her to her new room, taking his time to not strain her too much. He even suggested carrying her there, but she refused to let him out them like that, saying that there’s a perfectly working wheelchair that would do the job almost as good as his arms.
“Though, for the record, I prefer your arms.” She grinned, winking at him playfully.
He took a quick look over the corridor, making sure they were alone before locking the door behind them and stepping closer to her. He reached for the chain around his neck and took it off, sliding the ring into his palm. Taking her hand in his, he put the ring on her finger, something changing in the air around them, clicking into place. Ethan raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the golden band, his eyes finding hers and locking them in an intense gaze that said everything that needed to be said.
“In sickness and in health.” He muttered, pulling on her fingers to rest her arm on his shoulder as their lips met softly. She laughed sweetly, nuzzling her nose against his in a tender act of affection.
“For better or worse.” Claire wrapped her other arm around his neck, pressing them closer together as the world melted away for a short while.
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lemonpeter · 4 years
Text
All For Him (Perfection)
“A cute prompt where Peter wants to go to prom really badly but MJ dumped him recently and Ned is going with Betty so he feels like he can’t go. And flash makes fun of him for being a loser with no date to the prom. So Tony offers to take Peter just to fuck withFlash and they end up being the center of attention obviously and they’re having fun and suddenly they both have an ‘oh’ moment and realize they’re in love and they kiss snd it’s very sweet.”
My prompt fill for @starkerfestivals Fall event 💕 I’m actually really happy with this piece and I hope everyone else enjoys it as much as I do!
Warnings: brief alcohol mention, brief mention of after prom expectations, Peter is 18 (it’s mentioned mid-fic), it’s 99% just fluff I promise
————
Ah, prom season.
Tony couldn’t say that he really remembered his own, if he even went. He had been...what, fifteen? The only thing on his mind at that point had been finishing high school and getting to MIT. Everything he did to piss off his dad came later.
So he probably hadn’t gone. But he was sure that things were different now, anyways.
Elaborate promposals, themed dances, after-parties that rivaled his college days.
Anyways. He hadn’t thought about school formals in- god, decades, probably. Like most people with some sort of life aspirations, he hadn’t thought about it since leaving high school. But it hadn’t even mattered to him then.
But it mattered to Peter, still in school.
Freshly heartbroken, sweet, perfect Peter.
Tony couldn’t believe that anyone would break up with someone like Peter. He was the type of person that people fought over, not someone that got broken up with.
But he had been broken up with all the same. He tried not to act like it bothered him, but he wasn’t good at hiding things like that.
Tony saw the way that his fingers twitched when he grabbed his phone, wanting to text something to MJ. He noticed how Peter’s gaze lingered on a window display of suits advertising ‘It’s Almost Time’. And he saw the tears that filled Peter’s eyes when they witnessed a - incredibly cheesy, unnecessarily extravagant - promposal outside of someone’s building.
And he knew that he would have to do something about that.
———
“Mr. Stark, I can’t,” Peter told him, sighing heavily. “I just can’t. I would look so stupid if I went alone. And it’s too late to ask anyone, everyone already has their dates.”
Not that anyone would want to go with him anyways.
“What about your friend? You know, Fred,” Tony teased, like he didn’t know his name. It was an ongoing joke, so Peter knew he actually did know.
Peter sighed again, resting his forehead against the table. “He’s going with his girlfriend. Betty. I’m pretty sure I already told you this.”
“Right, right. You couldn’t just tag along with them?”
Peter’s head shot up and he made a face. “I am not about to be a third wheel. That’s so embarrassing. And lame. I don’t need extra reasons to be made fun of.”
“Extra?” The older man frowned as he watched him. “Don’t tell me that’s still going on.”
“It’s been a thing since I was in sixth grade, Mr. Stark. It’s not going to stop until graduation, apparently.” Just a few more months away. Thank god.
Tony hummed softly, tapping a finger to his chin. “Well...I mean, that’s not gonna work. You want to go. So you’re going to go. But-“
“I can’t go alone!”
“I was getting to that,” Tony chided. “Don’t interrupt me. If you can’t go alone. But none of your peers are still available. Or up to standards,” he joked lightly. Then he paused for dramatic effect before finishing his thought. “I could just go with you, Peter.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment after that, just taking the words in.
Tony felt that it had been innocent. Just an offer so that the kid would feel okay going to his dance.
But from the way Peter instantly blushed and glanced away, he wasn’t so sure it was received that way.
“What? Would you be embarrassed by me?”
Peter shook his head quickly, eyes wide. “What? No! I just...can’t imagine that you’d want to go. To a high school prom. With...me.”
Tony watched him, eyebrow raised as he listened. “I can’t say that it’s really my scene, but if I’d go with anyone I’d want it to be you. But I’m just going this so you can go and not feel weird, right? And maybe you can show that asshole Flash up.”
The young man was silent for just a moment, obviously thinking it all through.
Tony loved how he could practically see all the thoughts and outcomes swirling in Peter’s head.
Then he nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. You can go with me.” He smiled a bit. “We’ll need to buy you a ticket. And make sure you don’t do anything weird,” he joked lightly with him.
The older man scoffed. “Me? Weird? Oh, quit. We can either be the center of attention or we can blend in with the crowd. I can go with the flow. Whatever you want. I’m not weird...”
Peter laughed, genuine and relaxed. Definitely feeling better.
Tony was just glad that he could help. And if he got to make the kid laugh and smile at him like that? He would have done it again a million times. “So it’s a deal?”
“It’s a deal,” he agreed, nodding. “We’ll work out plans later. I’ll...text you?” He asked it as a question because he didn’t want to overstep.
Tony waved a hand. “You text me about everything else, of course you can message me about this. No biggie.”
Nodding, Peter smiled to himself. “Okay. Okay. I’ll gather all the details so we can both be completely prepared.” A pause. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. This...really means a lot to me.”
“No need to thank me. Because I just want you to be happy.”
A smile from Peter. “You’re the best.” He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I’ll text you!”
“Okay, kid.” Tony watched him leave the garage, smiling to himself. He knew that he was way more excited than he should have been.
But Peter just made him like that. He didn’t want to read too much into it. No use thinking into what he didn’t want to discover about himself.
———
He hadn’t heard from Peter for a couple of days and he was a bit worried that he finally scared the man off.
Until he got a large number of sudden texts.
‘Hi Mr. S’
‘*Stark’
‘I got the prices for tickets. It’s kinda a lot so I understand if you don’t want to go’
It was cute, Peter really seemed worried that the tickets would be too expensive for him. But he figured that the younger man just stuck in the mindset that money was always tight.
‘They’re $60 each’
‘I can cover mine, don’t worry’
‘And I still need to rent a suit since the one I have is old’
‘And depressing’
‘But I’m sure you have a suit! So you don’t need to worry about that’
‘Unless you wanna wear a dress. I wouldn’t judge’
Tony chuckled at that. That was always an option, but he figured he would go more traditional if Peter wanted to blend in.
‘But yeah. Just wanted to get back to you about that. Since it’s next week we probably need to make final plans and all’
Smiling to himself, Tony started typing a message back.
‘Ticket prices won’t be a problem, I’ll drop by your school and pick one up later today. And I can handle getting you a suit, no need to rent one that god knows how many other people have worn.’
He watched the dots that signaled Peter was typing. Then they disappeared and he was a bit worried that he overstepped some sort of unspoken boundary.
Then he got a phone call instead, Peter’s adorably awkward contact picture filling his screen.
Of course he answered instantly, putting the phone to his ear. “Yes? I thought your generation hated phone calls, why am I getting one?”
A giggle from the other side. Tony grinned at that, ignoring how his heartbeat sped up ever so slightly at the sound. It meant nothing. He probably had heart issues and should get that checked out.
“Because it’s easier to call and talk things out than to text it all,” Peter told him helpfully.
He was looking through his closet, glaring slightly at the one suit he owned. He didn’t like it, for obvious reasons.
It was his funeral suit. It was also the suit he wore to homecoming his sophomore year. Not good memories. But he knew that suits were expensive and Mr. Stark liked going overboard.
“Were you serious about getting me a suit? Because really- I can just rent one. It’ll be okay. It’s one night.”
Tony made an offended noise. “Absolutely not. I’m getting you one. No date of mine will be showing up in some overpriced, used-“
“Date of yours? It’s my school dance, Mr. Stark,” Peter said flatly. But he was obviously smiling on the other side of the call.
“So? You’ll be with me, you’ll be fitted in the finest thing possible. Come by the tower tomorrow and I’ll have someone here to fit you for a suit. Custom. It’ll be perfect.”
Peter sputtered out a weak argument, but no real words really formed. “No- I can’t- you-“
“Absolutely no arguing with me. This night is going to be perfect for you. In every way.”
A moment of silence and Tony could only imagine the pretty pink blush that was on Peter’s cheeks. No, not pretty. Just-
Yeah, pretty. Sue him.
He was thankfully torn out of his thoughts when Peter cleared his throat before speaking again. It almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
It definitely wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark. This...it means a lot to me. That you want to do this with me. And that you’re willing to make it....”
“Perfect,” Tony finished when he trailed off. “Come on, I know this is important to you. Of course I’ll do everything I can to make it good.” He smiled to himself, ignoring the fuzzy warm feeling in his stomach. Damn heartburn. (Right, that’s what it was.) “Thank you for calling. I’ll pick up tickets later, then schedule a tailor to come by tomorrow to fit your suit. Sound good?”
Yeah, that was definitely a choked sob he heard. “Sounds good,” whispered Peter before abruptly hanging up.
Weird kid.
———
Everything had gone smoothly. Tony got their tickets and immediately handed them off to Pepper so they wouldn’t get lost, Peter was fitted for his suit and it was made perfectly, a beautiful bouquet of flowers was purchased, Tony made reservations for dinner, and he had a backup travel plan if Pepper convinced Peter that going in the iron man suit was a bad idea.
And then the night finally arrived.
Peter was nervous. And excited. Mostly excited with a little dash of nervousness.
He couldn’t help it. He was finally going to go to prom, the event hyped up from the time he was in elementary school. Seen in every teen movie, show, anything. Prom was obviously important. And he was definitely one for following important life milestones.
Even if they didn’t quite go as planned.
For one, he had been dumped by his girlfriend just before he was going to ask her to go with him. So that sucked. Then he waited and found no one else to go with. Until Mr. Stark stepped in. Which was an adventure on its own.
God, he was on an emotional roller coaster, up and down and upside down and-
Actually, the roller coaster was a pretty good analogy for what he was feeling. He had a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach, but he knew he was excited and couldn’t wait for what came next.
If only he knew what it meant.
He vaguely heard May open the door and he sucked in a sharp breath, doing a quick last check in the mirror.
He thought he looked good, not to brag. The suit was way more expensive than he even cared to know, but he thought it looked amazing. Sexy, even. The awkward, ugly prom suit stereotype was something he was glad to avoid.
His hair was in its natural curls, hanging loose and slightly messy but in what May assured him was ‘a cute way.’
Maybe it was simple. But it made him extremely happy.
So with that, he made his way out to the living room, unable to help the grin stuck to his face.
May covered her mouth with one hand, the other over her heart. “Oh-“ she walked to him, quickly pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You look so good. Handsome boy.” She smiled at him, gently brushing back his hair.
Peter blushed, laughing softly. “Thanks, May.” He glanced over her shoulder, cheeks flushing even darker when he saw Tony.
The man looked great.
Not that he didn’t always.
He looked like he was going somewhere way nicer than a high school prom. He looked so dapper, perfectly put together.
Peter couldn’t believe that the man had actually put all that effort in for him. To make him happy.
Mr. Stark really must have cared about him.
Then he noticed the huge bouquet of red and white roses that the man was holding. He had no idea how he had missed it in the first place.
He slowly stepped out from May’s touch, shaking his head to make her stop playing with his curls.
She made a sound of protest, but crossed her arms and moved to stand to the side.
Tony smiled fondly at Peter, expression conveying more love than was probably appropriate. Not that he would admit to it. He held out the roses, handing them over to Peter.
“I thought you’d like these,” he murmured, biting back a grin. “And it felt like an appropriate gift, given the circumstances.”
Peter nodded weakly, seeming in awe. He really couldn’t believe any of it was happening to him. It really was looking like the perfect night. He smelled the roses, smiling to himself. “They’re...amazing. Thank you.”
May took them from him, chuckling. “I’m gonna need two or three vases to fit all these....” she sighed, smiling. “But before I do that- ground rules. You.” She pointed at Tony. “I expect him home some time tonight. I say by...three. Not that you two will be attending any sort of party afterwards, that’s still the curfew.”
Peter opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. There wasn’t a point, it wasn’t like they’d be going anywhere after the dance. It wasn’t like they were an actual couple. They were going as friends. Friends didn’t have the same sort of after-prom expectations.
“Okay,” Tony agreed. “I’ll have him home by then, no worries.”
“Good. Next, if you do anything that embarrasses him or gives him a bad reputation these last couple months, I will hunt you down and kill you myself,” she threatened.
Tony snorted to himself, but nodded. “Of course. I’m just following his lead, he’s in charge here.” He winked at Peter quickly.
Peter shivered at that. He wasn’t quite sure what the older man meant with the action. He was in change for the night? Did he just mean because it was his prom or was there some other meaning he wasn’t aware of?
He couldn’t decide. So he just laughed a little and nodded.
“Right. That brings me to my final point,” May told them (but mostly Tony.) “Remember your relationship. He’s eighteen, Stark. Don’t do anything foolish in public that will bring bad press around either of you.”
Tony nodded instantly, but he felt like he was lying to her. He didn’t like that at all. “Of course. I wouldn’t even dream of making him look bad. And Pep has dealt with enough bad press from me, I don’t want to make things tougher on her.” As though the situation didn’t already look odd. “You don’t need to worry. Everything is going to be smooth, I won’t fuck anything up.”
May huffed. “You always seem to fuck something up. So your word doesn’t mean much. But you’d better keep to that. I don’t want to wake up to tabloids with the front picture being you groping my barely-legal nephew.”
“No problem, ma’am. Things won’t go south. Have some faith in me.”
“No.”
Tony huffed a laugh. “Okay. Fine.” He watched Peter, shooting him a sly smile. “Ready to go?”
The young man nodded, beaming. He went to Tony’s side, biting his lip as the man held his arm out. So he gently held onto his arm. “Bye, May. We’ll be- well, I’ll be back later. Love you!”
The woman laughed softly. “Have fun, Peter. But not too much fun, okay? And try not to just watch MJ all night.”
Oh, that wouldn’t be a problem. Peter already knew that if he was going with Mr. Stark, he wouldn’t have to worry about pining after MJ. Even if he didn’t want to think too much into why that was.
“I won’t, don’t worry. Love you, byyyyyye!” He called, trailing the last word as he left the apartment with Tony and closed the door behind them.
And with that, their night began.
———
Dinner was just incredible. Fancier than anything Peter had ever been to, for sure. But being with Mr. Stark somehow made it feel casual.
They left the restaurant and got back into Tony’s car - Peter had vetoed just being carried while Tony flew in the iron man suit.
Being in the fancy car, going to a school dance, was a bit too reminiscent of Homecoming and wrecking Flash’s car on the way to the Vulture’s lair. At least he wasn’t driving. And he was determined that he’d actually be staying at this dance.
Tony seemed to notice how he spaced out and hummed, gently setting one hand on his leg with the other still on the wheel.
Peter’s head jerked up at the action, eyes wide. “Huh?”
The hand was pulled away and Tony smiled weakly. “Sorry. Didn’t really think that one through. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He cleared his throat. “Having second thoughts?”
“What? No. No second thoughts. Thinking about....” he winced, shaking his head. “Just- really glad this time there’s no chance of my date’s dad trying to kill me.”
The older man laughed at that, a bit taken by surprise. But he was glad that Peter wasn’t having second thoughts. “Yeah, absolutely no chance for that. Don’t worry.”
They rode in relative silence after that, listening to whatever Tony had playing through the speakers. Some band that Peter probably knew the name of but would purposely get it wrong anyways.
Then they arrived at the venue. Tony parked the car, raising an eyebrow when he saw the ride next to them.
Peter easily identified it as Flash’s and had to keep Tony from ‘accidentally’ denting the door when he opened his own. That wouldn’t be okay, bully or not.
So Tony refrained from causing any harm to the vehicle, going to the passenger’s side and opening the door for Peter. He then held his arm out, smiling fondly at the young man.
The night was theirs.
Peter knew that Tony would have followed his wishes to stay under the radar and blend in, but sometimes it wasn’t up to them.
They were seen as soon as they stepped into the doors, whispers erupting throughout the room.
“There is no way,” someone nearby hissed.
Peter wished that his super hearing would calm down. He didn’t want to hear everyone’s disbelief at who he was there with. But he couldn’t really control that.
Then he heard the voice he absolutely dreaded. “Hey, Penis Parker!” Called Flash.
Peter couldn’t see him, but he even sounded smug. “What do you want?” He asked tiredly.
Flash materialized, leaning his elbow on Peter’s shoulder.
The other man tried to pull back, wrinkling his nose at the alcoholic smell coming off of Flash. The night had barely begun, that was fast.
“So,” he addressed Tony. “Is this like a charity thing? Taking a poor loser to his prom? Because-“
“Excuse me?” Tony sounded genuinely offended. On Peter’s behalf? Huh. “It’s not any sort of ‘thing’ other than taking my friend and colleague to an event. Because some people, like Peter here, can actually win their dates over with incredible personality.”
Flash started sputtering an apology, moving away from Peter. “Look- I didn’t- I- it was just a joke! Me and him are friends, we can joke like that!”
Peter gave him a look, lips pressed together. “I...no. Bye, Flash. Stay mad,” he commented, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him away.
Tony just wrapped a gentle arm around him, leaning in close as they walked away. “Cmon, ignore everyone else. We’re here to have some fun, right? Let’s dance.” He grinned, pulling Peter out onto the floor.
Everyone already knew that they were there. Why try to hide? They were going to have fun and everyone was going to know it.
Tony grabbed Peter’s hands, doing an odd little dance with him to whatever the song was. He couldn’t recognize it, he just knew that it had a fairly danceable beat.
Relief flooded him when Peter started to relax. His eyes no longer darted around at the stares and whispers and instead he was focused on Tony.
They danced, probably looking completely silly as they wiggled and spun each other to the music. But Peter was enjoying himself. And that was all that mattered to Tony.
As the song faded out and another one started playing in, Peter laughed, the sound clear despite the loud background.
Nothing else mattered. All that mattered was their little bubble of perfection. He and Peter. No one else.
The young man’s hair was tousled, curls loose since he had decided not to gel them down. He looked like an angel, soft and happier than Tony had ever seen him. As happy as he deserved to be all the time.
Peter deserved perfection and nothing else. Tony was just glad that he could contribute.
Then a slower song started and Peter awkwardly pulled away. “We can...sit this one out. It might be weird if we did this one. Just friends and all....” he didn’t look at Tony, eyes on the floor.
The older man watched him, slowly holding his hand out. “Peter, we can do this if you want to.”
The young man’s silence, but hopeful look towards the hand told him all that he needed to know.
“Will you dance with me, Peter?”
God, Peter’s heart was beating way too fast. But he was going to dance with Mr. Stark. And not how they had been before- this was intimate. Close. Something for- for lovers. Not friends, like they were.
But something in him desperately wanted it to mean more.
So he slowly looked up again, taking his hand and allowing himself to be brought close.
Tony smiled at him, expression soft and loving and definitely going to give him away. But he found that he really didn’t care. Not anymore.
He held Peter against his chest gently, swaying to the delicate crooning of the lyrics of whatever song was playing. He didn’t care what it was. All he cared about was Peter.
It was all about Peter.
The young man looked up at him, cheeks flushed lightly. He looked so beautiful. And happy. Everything he deserved.
“Mr. Stark....” he said quietly, heartbeat picking up.
“Please, call me Tony. It makes me feel incredibly wrong if you keep calling me Mr. Stark,” he murmured, still holding onto him and watching him.
“What do you mean? Wrong?” Peter asked, confused.
Tony sighed softly. “God, Peter. I shouldn’t tell you this. I shouldn’t be- okay. Okay. I can do this.”
The younger man could hear how his heart started racing.
“You’re...perfect. In every way. And doing this with you was a bit selfish on my part,” Tony started. “I know I just wanted to make sure you could come here and have fun. But being like this with you? I like it. Too much.” He started to let go, but Peter didn’t let him.
“Tony,” Peter said softly, beaming up at him. “Oh, I’m so glad I’m not alone.”
Tony wasn’t sure how to take that. Was it about the dance? Or what?
But he didn’t get much time to ponder it before Peter was leaning in and kissing him.
Oh.
The kiss wouldn’t have been anything special, it was little more than a peck in reality. But the fact that it was with Peter. His Peter. That made it special.
They broke apart only seconds later, both smiling big before leaning in for a second kiss.
“I love you,” Peter whispered, tucking his face into Tony’s neck.
Tony smiled to himself, swaying to the song again as he kept holding Peter. His Peter. “I love you too.”
And everything was perfect.
123 notes · View notes
honeyyui · 3 years
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Laito Appreciation Week 2021 - Day 7
✧༺♥༻∞  The final day is here!! It feels like this whole week went by so fast.  ∞༺♥༻
To end things off, I wrote a fic! This is the first DiaLovers work I’ve ever done (and I’m still a bit of a newbie to publishing my writing online in general), so I’m kinda nervous but I hope you all enjoy! 
I put it on AO3, and it can be found linked here.
This story is about Laito and Yui’s relationship. Be warned though, it isn’t meant to be happy, and it contains some potentially upsetting themes. Be safe! 
Thank you so much @everything-laito for hosting this event. I had such a great time participating.
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✧༺♥༻∞  If you don’t want to use AO3 for some reason, I’ll also put the fic below the cut of this post for accessibility's sake. It might be a little cumbersome to read on here, though.  ∞༺♥༻
From a young age, Yui Komori already had a vague idea of what “love” was supposed to be.
She slowly picked things up here and there - from books where at the end of the story, the hero saves the damsel in distress, from songs on the radio filled with longing and sweet poetry. As she grew older, she learned of love from giddy classmates; girls gushing about their very own prince charming who would ride in on a white horse. They whispered of heartfelt handwritten notes and soft shoulder touches. Young. Innocent. Hopeful.
But most importantly, she learned of love from her father. He would tell her the same thing over and over.
Wait until you grow older. Meet a nice, upstanding Christian man at church. Wear a white dress. Get married. Raise a family. Be a homemaker. You will live the perfect life.
Every night in bed she’d get lost in thought. She’d created an idealized image of this elusive lover in her mind, falling asleep to the idea of a peaceful, pious life in the idyllic countryside.
Now, she had long since lost the ability to picture it.
Yui sat cradling him, panting and heaving. Streams of moonlight poured through the church’s stained glass and illuminated their bodies, which were covered in an intermingling sheen of sweat.
Through her desperate sighs, she spoke.
“This isn’t what I imagined.”
“Imagined?” Laito asked with a smile. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not...what my father told me.” Yui still breathed heavily, her pale, quivering chest rising in a slow and painful rhythm.
He waited patiently for her to continue.
“Told you about what…?” Laito prodded at her with his words, as though looking to coax out any stray emotions bottled up inside. He cocked his head to the side inquisitively.
“Love.”
“He abandoned you.” Said Laito, stroking Yui’s now-messy hair. He brushed away a few slick strands that still stuck to her forehead, and tilted her head up by her chin so he could stare into her eyes. “What could he ever understand about love, hmm?”
“But-” Yui stuttered.
“I thought we were past this.” Laito’s spoke, his voice low and flat. He narrowed his eyes, and his grip on Yui’s face grew tighter.
She felt her breath catch in her throat. “I...I know. I’m sorry.” She gulped, repeating it once more for good measure. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okaayy, I’ll accept your apology...” Laito cooed, delicately trailing his fingers from her jawline to her neck, and then along her collarbone.
Yui breathed a sigh of relief.
“...If we continue.” Commanded Laito, pressing his fingertip into the divot at the base of her neck.
“More?” she said, shocked. Whining in dismay, she slumped forward, desperately reaching for a warmth that was not there.. “I’m so tired...I can’t…” She hardly had the strength to raise her hand to meet his. “You took so much… and it’s been hours…”
“Ah ah~” “Don’t you remember our vows?”
She felt his expression turn dark - his gaze boring into her core. Yui squeezed her eyes shut, and as she did she felt Laito yank her body forward and pull her in painfully tight. He held her so close that she could feel his breath against her ear. She felt as though she was suffocating; the smell of blood and sweat filling her mouth and nose and stretching its violent tendrils down her throat.
“Don’t you love me?’
His fingernails dug roughly into her shoulders; angry half-moon divots pressing themselves into her flesh.
“I...I do.”
“Good.” Said Laito. He ran his hands over her shoulders, tracing circles along her all the way down to her exposed chest, which was peppered with puncture wounds and bruises that bloomed in unsightly colors. “I love you. I love you.” He chanted softly, repeating it like a mantra. Deft fingertips explored Yui’s body with reckless abandon, poking at fading welts and prodding at old scars. He pinched her soft skin, eliciting the same reactions as he had time and time again without fail. Her body was a record for him to rewind and replay as he pleased. “I love you.” He whispered again, as if trying to convince not only Yui - but himself as well - that it was the truth.
Before she knew it, Yui’s body hit the floor as she was roughly shoved down.
She stared up at the church’s ceiling - a tall peak surrounded by walls filled with ornate stained glass and beautiful murals. Splitting into fragments, the bright moonlight still filtered through the intricate pattern and dizzying mixture of colors, dying itself ethereal hues. The light’s reflection bathed the floor in a deep blue glow, faintly creating the illusion that it was a vast ocean, threatening to swallow her up at a moment's notice.
Above the windows, she could see a weathering and faded painting of the sky. Billowy white clouds spiraled around and around, and cherubs and angels flew up towards the sun; hands outstretched gracefully, accompanying God at a golden throne and the grand gates to heaven.
It looked impossibly high from where she lay.
As Laito lifted her legs to her chest and pushed her down deep into that endless ocean of blue, she let herself become lost in thought.
Every day was similar. First thing after he’d wake up, he’d be all over her - in bed, In the shower, in the garden, anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere, any time he wanted. She’d obey his wordless instructions, melting into his carefully calculated touches and strokes. When he did speak, she let the praise and degradation blend together into a sickening mixture until her head went numb and she took it all in - fully and without inhibition. The crippling shame came later, though by now she’d long learned to bury it.
He’d tease her mercilessly, then fall silent when he’d had his fill.
One time, she begged for a kiss. A real kiss, not just one meant to satiate her complaints, or one that served to pacify and mystify her; not one that led to anything else, not one meant to be a formality that preceded torn skirts and trembling legs. The most she got was a quick peck on the forehead.
She learned to live with it. After all, this was what love was, right? Who was she to dictate the way he showed his love?
I have no right, she thought once, massaging her aching muscles and wiping still-damp tears from her face, to pass judgement on others.
When they loved, she’d get lost in the ache of his nails and fangs, and she’d scream until her throat went raw. It didn’t matter that she hardly got a moment alone - it served to help quell the feelings inside: the fear that someone else would rise to the surface and claim her mind when she was caught alone and vulnerable. At least he kept her occupied. Satiated. When she felt the pain of his love she felt something that uniquely belonged to her. She took the pain and became it.
Laito’s sharp, quick thrusts snapped her back to reality. She attempted to steady herself by pushing her arms into the floor, but her vision swam and she shuddered vigorously. Was it the anemia? Her heart? She no longer knew. Her body felt alien.
This is love. She told herself, his one hand around her neck and the other creeping its way to her mouth.
Before she could fully realize it, she felt a hot tear run down her cheek and spill on to the floor. Then came another. And another. By the time they had started, stopping them was futile. She moaned through her choked sobs.
“Why are you crying?” said Laito. “Wait, don’t tell me - you’re feeling sentimental about joining our bodies again in the place we married? In the place where you had your first?” He eased his grip on her and removed his fingers from her mouth, instead opting to drag them though her still-falling tears. He licked his pointer finger languidly.
“I DON'T KNOW!” Yui wailed. “I don’t know..”
He stopped moving, and stared down at Yui with hawkish eyes. “...You aren’t worried about God, are you?” Laito smirked, failing to suppress his amusement.
Yui smiled through her tears. “No... because I think he stopped watching over me long ago.”
Eventually, the moonlight faded and dawn crawled out to take its place. Fresh sunlight trickled through the glass and warmed the still, silent air. Yui had long since passed out, curled up in a limp heap on the floor next to her wrinkled clothing.
“Bitch-Chan,” Laito whispered, gazing at her sleeping body. “We’re going to have to go home eventually…”
Kneeling down to pick up her uniform, he dressed her, careful not to jostle her awake. He haphazardly tossed her skirt on - not bothering to zip it - and let her blouse bunch around her neck like an odd-looking scarf. He forwent her bra, socks and underwear - slipping the very latter into his pants pocket. Slowly, he slid out of his uniform jacket and placed it around her shoulders as a covering.
On the floor beneath where her clothes had been, sat a lonely rosary.
He watched her chest rise and fall softly a few more times before gingerly lifting her up onto his back. His calm footsteps echoed throughout the church.
Yui groggily woke to soft, rhythmic movements and the feeling of something fluffy behind her neck. Still half-asleep, she relished in the soft, warm feeling and listened mindlessly to the tempo of her own drowsy sighs.
“Eh? You’re stirring now?” said Laito.
In her state, she could hardly find the words to respond to him. She still wasn’t cognisant of much around her.
On vague instinct, she moved one hand to reach for her skirt pocket. Something wasn’t right.
“I think…” mumbled Yui. “I forgot something.”
“Really now?”
“I can’t remember…” she drawled.
Laito soothed her with a gentle “Go back to sleep. We’re almost home.”
Well, whatever it is, thought Yui.
If I forgot it, then it probably wasn’t that important.
17 notes · View notes
writingmanaged · 4 years
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Fluff Alphabet (Remus Lupin)
Ship: Remus Lupin x Reader
Triggers: None! Just some fluffy little werewolf!
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A - Activities (Hobbies and things you like to do together)
Remus is a huge nerd. So, do not be surprised if he loves to stay inside with you and cuddle while you he reads out loud. You'll also have lots of study dates! ;) (You'll just be studying where did your mind fly off to? Jk) But if you enjoy going outside, he'd do both things. However, expect him to always have a book in his ripped bag.
B - Baby (do they want to have a baby with you?)
Yes and no. He does want to have a baby with you of course, but he is very anxious about it. He thinks about all the things that could go wrong, especially considering his fury little problem... "What if I end up biting him or her, y/n!?" "Remus John Lupin do you honestly believe the others would let that happen!?" But you can't really change his mind and deep inside you know he has a good point.
C - Comfort (how to they comfort you after a bad day?)
Oh dear, you should know by now that you are dealing with the KING of comfort. He knows how you must feel, he is a pretty anxious person. He will hold you close, play with your hair, give you multiple soft kisses and won't let go until he makes sure you are okay.
D - Dancing (do they like to dance with you)
He is a shy boi. Aka no. He is afraid of embarrassing you in front of a crowd. However, he will dance with you privately if you like. He will definitely dance with you if he is drunk, so it is worth trying ;)
E - Eating (meals together)
Eat, you'll feel better. No, seriously he would say it a lot. As long as you are dating Werewolf Mcwerewolf you will not get hungry. "What do you mean you are on a diet!? You don't need it! At least have some salad." "Y/n, you are not leaving this room until you finish your plate"
"but plates here refill themselves, Remus!"
F - Favourite (their favourite part on you)
Your hands. Oh gosh, he absolutely adores them! His own hands are so big, he just loves to take your hands in his and hold them tightly. He would also kiss them all the time. If he had money he would buy you rings but this boy is poor
G - Gifts (what it says)
Remus is pretty poor so he couldn't possibly give you something expensive. However, his gifts are really meaningful. Remember that one time you were rumbling about a movie? He'll buy you the book. That other time you were really jealous of that girl's hair? He'll buy you a straightener. He is the type of person who would make handmade stuff too.
H - Hair (how you treat each other's hair)
He thinks his hair is plain and boring. Who can blame him, his roomate is Sirius freaking Black. But you simply adore it. He doesn't understand how, but he for one thing is definitely in love with yours. He really likes that nice smell it gives out.
I - Ironing (who does the chores?)
He does. He doesn't let you do anything. He is really insecure and thinks very lowly of himself. He thinks the least he can do is take care of the house. You completely disagree but it's not like he is willing to listen.
J - Jokes (would you pull jokes on each other)
No. He deeply respects you and although he might say some nice smart jokes every now and then, he would never prank you. His friends however, definitely would. And then it was time for your revenge prank... God help those innocent marauders. You two are a powerful duo.
K - Kissing (how are their kisses?)
Mostly he is a very soft kisser. He likes to gently touch his lips on yours and devour them slowly. But that changes during nights before full moon when he is rough and demanding.
L - Lies (would you lie to each other?)
Definitely not. But don't let that deceive you. Mr. Lupin can be a very good liar when he needs to. He simply despises dishonesty more than anything in the world. He'd always tell you the truth and expect you to do the same.
M - Money (how do you handle money?)
With difficulty. Even if you are rich, he would never accept money from you. He'd feel like he is using you. And you know what that means... Eternally struggling with bills.
N - No (things they are not okay with)
Hurting you. This seems very obvious, and it is but his worst fear is causing you harm. If he ever grabbed on you a bit too tight a few nights before full moon, he'd hate himself and probably wouldn't talk to anyone for a week. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to you, especially if it is because of him.
I - Outdoors (do you spend more time outdoors or indoors?)
Team introvert!! He simply adores staying inside. If you are an extrovert he'd go out with you as much as possible. But come on guys, as we saw on A staying inside with him is the best thing in the world.
P - Partying (do they like partying with you?)
Hahahahahahahahaha no. Seriously, he despises these gatherings. He only ever went when James and Sirius dragged him along. If you had fun in those, he'd come but don't be surprised if you find him reading his book in the bathroom.
Q - Question (marriage and how they feel about it)
The law is a bit complicated about relationships with werewolves. It really depends on the government. Therefore, even if he does want to marry you, you'd have to wait until it was legal. When it was, he wouldn't waste a second before asking you the big question.
R - Right (do you argue a lot? Who usually wins?)
He is generally a peaceful person so you don't fight too much. But when you do, I'm sorry to disappoint but he does. He is incredible at debating and turning your own point against you. Remus Lupin for president
S - Sick (taking care of each other when sick)
It's not exactly sickness, but Remus does have a fury little problem. Which means you'd have to take care of him in bed half of your life! Don't worry, the first 5 times are hard but then you get the hang of it.
T - Tears (do they cry a lot? Do they do it in front of you?)
Although he does have lots of reasons to cry, he doesn't do it a lot. He is really strong and can keep himself mentally stable. Nevertheless, when he does cry he does it in private. He would never like to worry you.
U - Until death tears us apart (does your relationship last long? Do you ever get apart)
No you don't! If you exclude his full moon nights, you'll be together from the day you met to the day you die. You'll most likely die together in the Battle of Hogwarts...
V - Victim (what do they do if someone blames you for something you didn't do?)
Remus keeps calling himself a monster. But if he ever does seem or act like one, it is in a situation like this. How dare they accuse you!? You are so innocent. He'd kick their butts and probably get points given to Gryffindor for it.
W - Working out (what it says)
He doesn't work out a lot. But he does enjoy going out for runs which is why his body is in such great shape, especially considering all the chocolate he eats. Although he doesn't work out, he'd love to try out going to the gym along with you!
X - Xoxo (how do they text?)
Formally. He doesn't get it. He confuses it with owls. You still laugh at the thought of that 4 paragraph long text that simply asked how your day was. It even had a signature.
Y - Yours (Are they possesive? Do they get jealous a lot?)
He trusts you a lot generally speaking. He is okay with all of your male friends. But if he senses someone is being more than healthy, oh boy... It is another V situation.
Z - Zzzz... (How you sleep together)
Spooning! He is the big spoon. He needs to feel you near him while he is sleeping. He has to know you are there for him and you are alright.
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internalsealpanic · 4 years
Text
Explosive Chemistry
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Summary: Chemistry labs can be a bit tedious. Nothing laser vision can’t fix though. 
A/n: You can all blame @birdy-bat-writes​ for this fluff and @knightfall05x​ for the amazing mood board. This might feel a little rushed so apologies and Clark is kind of hard to write (ope). Anyway, here is your regularly scheduled comedy.  Thanks again to @knightfall05x​ for proof reading!
warning: swearing, reader’s terrible moral compass, and some injury
masterlist
You met Clark- Well, ‘met’ might be too formal a word for what happened. 
 You discovered Clark during a mundane Metropolis afternoon. Taking a break from your studies (read: a group project that had not been going smoothly), you hopped on to a trail car to go to your favorite sandwich shop right across from your favorite diner. 
 The sandwich shop itself was nothing too special, not in a good way at least. It was even what your delicately paletted father had politely described as ‘subpar’ which as far as you knew was the worst insult he could give. Frank- the owner- was, of course, inclined to disagree. You were, on the other hand, inclined to agree with the opinion especially after biting into a raw piece of chicken in one of their “famous” chicken sandwiches. But it was cheap and it offered the best view of the diner across the street. 
In truth, you liked the food at the diner better. Their blueberry pancakes were absolutely delightful, at least, on Mondays.  But more than anything you found more delight in watching its contained chaos. You’ve watched people propose, get divorced, have fights, and everything else in between. The sheer absurd theatrics of it all captivated you. It was people-watching at its finest. Frank just thought it was creepy to which you simply nodded and nibbled at your sandwich. 
As you watched the usual ensemble cast in the diner, you witness a tall, handsome guy with black hair and blue eyes get mugged. Ok, well, almost get mugged. He was a big boi so you weren’t entirely surprised when he was easily able to stop the scrawny knife-wielding assailant. What did surprise you were the proceeding events. To your utter disbelief (and amusement); instead of throwing the guy into the gutter as custom dictates, the buff guy just guided his assailant to the diner and had a chat with him. You chew your sandwich slowly as you watch them talk as if nothing strange had occurred minutes before, digesting the odd comedy unfolding before your eyes. 
 Moments later and a few tears shed, they parted ways. You frowned thinking that would be the end of it and you were about to whine to Frank about how anticlimactic that was. But then it just kept going. 
 He got mugged. 
 Again.
 And again. 
 And again.
 By the fourth time, Frank sat beside you to watch finally leaving the spot he was polishing alone. Repeated muggings were weird enough but the guy kept inviting them to talk. You choked every time but made no move to intervene, only nibbling at your sandwich and watching with near clinical interest.
 After the fifth mugging, Frank raised a challenging brow at you as you continued to chew on your sandwich. You shrug at him as if to say ‘I’m eating what do you want me to do?’. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave you even as another mugger approached the buff guy. You cut him a look and chew a little faster. For a guy running what is most likely a money-laundering scheme, he sure was noble. 
 Having finally finished your sandwich, you wave your hand halfheartedly to Frank, your middle finger extended skyward. Kicking the shop door open and jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets, you made your way to the other side of the street ignoring the cars driving past you, blowing and whipping the skirt of your dress every which way. 
 Neither of them pays you any mind as you approach them, which was just as well. You shifted the strap of your backpack on your shoulder deciding whether to use it. Your laptop was in there so probably not. You decide to christen your new flattops by giving the man a good harsh kick in his nether regions. He goes down with a squeak. 
 “Scram!” You snarl, baring your teeth. In a surprisingly well-coordinated motion, he does, looking honestly scared for his life. You pivot to the guy who you assume is some kind of tourist. 
 Most people would say that Clark towered over you but the truth was that no matter how tall Clark was he couldn’t really measure up to the height of you. Nothing about you was inherently intimidating, especially as you stand before him in flat tops, hoodie, and short dress, except maybe for your shoulders. But that had less to do with their actual shape and more to do with how uncommonly broad they were compared to the rest of your body.  Some people say it made you look like an angry dorito to which you unfailingly replied with something Clark would rather not repeat. At least, not in polite company. 
 You regard him with a pinched brow which makes Clark straighten as you openly assess him. You memorize the angles of his features, all the sharpness and corners of it not noticeable due to the softness of the way he carries himself in a typical hometown boy kind of way.  You note your university’s logo on the edge of his sweatshirt.
 You reach your hand out. “Y/n L/n but just call me Y/n”
 “Clark Kent” He answers, shaking your hands. You note the distinct midwestern shape of his syllables which explained a lot.  
 “Yanno muggers aren’t exactly good speed dating partners, right?”
 Clark smiled at the, admittedly, terrible joke. By the way, your eyes flash with interest, he’ll be seeing a lot of you. 
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Your foot bounced erratically against the metal bar serving as your stool’s footrest. You watched the thermometer with a pinched face and a ticking brow as the mercury in it remains unmoving. Your mounting frustration amusing Clark making him cover his mouth. You fix him with a look and the door actually whistles “innocently” and looks away, pretending to be intently reading the procedure as if you two haven’t been reading it for the past half hour trying to figure out why your solution wasn’t boiling. His baby blues none-too-subtly flicking in your direction. You give him one last scathing look, which he easily glances off, before turning back to your solution. His eyes have been flickering at you as if he’s been meaning to ask you a question. That question likely being ‘could you possibly stop looking like you’re going to murder the molecules in our solution’. His eyes flicker again to watch you seethe and pout at the liquid and it takes everything in Clark not to tease you about being cute. 
 Bouncing your leg again, you gently turn the hot plate’s nob until the screen reads 1000 F. Clark makes a choked sound, finally tearing his attention away from what you assumed to be a particularly interesting semicolon. Clark reaches over and turns the damned thing back down to 300 F. You glare at him before, violently, turning it back up to 1000. Clark just as quickly turns it back down. 
 Click
 Click
 Click 
 You two continue on like this for a while ‘til your instructor, pinching his nose, strolls over to your lab bench to politely tell you to knock it off. With a shrug, you two settle on 650 F as your compromise. You, however, continue to glower at the solution while Clark peruses through the next lab distinctly reminding you of someone in the waiting room of a dentist’s office which makes you scrunch your nose and worsen the impatient ticking of your limbs. “Glaring at it won’t make it go faster,” Clark chuckled in his Midwestern sweater voice. You had the urge to pour the hot acid of the flask on to him but you suppressed the urge mainly because it wouldn’t actually hurt and pouring it on him meant starting over and that just sounded tragic.   
 You place your hands primly on your lap and spin your chair towards Clark. “Not all of us can watch grass grow, Paul Bunyan.” You snip. Clark shakes his head at you, whether it’s from your tone or the nickname you can’t tell. All you could discern was that it irritated him and some petty part of you was satiated the way old gods were when someone made an acceptable sacrifice. 
 “Is that what you think we do in Kansas?” Your first impulse is to say ‘yes’ even if it wasn’t the truth. You thought better of it though. Picking a fight with Clark Kent was a terrible idea, superstrength or not. You were, of course, familiar with Kansas as a concept the same way you were familiar with Mars. Both seemed equally distant, equally alien, and equally irrelevant as such you never dedicated too much thought to it. The last one might have changed a bit with your chance encounter with Clark. You remember him mentioning going home for Thanksgiving Break. You also distinctly remember wanting to ask if you could come along. After all, you didn’t have much in the way of killing time during holidays seeing as most of your relatives were overseas and the relatives you did have here were indisposed either due to work or due to other families. You felt silly thinking about it now and even sillier contemplating how you would explain the special brand of unpleasantness of being bored over the holidays. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- your eyes flicker to Clark but you shake your head- or a girlfriend or maybe friends who weren’t either foreign exchange students or farm boys from Kansas with laser vision. 
 You whip your head to Clark who was mumbling something about not staring at the grass. He frowns at you, not finishing his sentence.
 “You have that look.”
 “What look?”
 “The bad idea look.”
 “I do not”
 “Ok, let me rephrase. The let’s do something stupid for science look.”
 You huff indignantly. Clark looks unfazed and a little smug. You did not have that kind of look and sue, you’ve asked once or ten times to use his powers to do something ridiculous but this was a matter of importance. 
 “Use your heat vision”
 “Wha-”
 “Heat vision. Flask. Go faster.” You punctuate each word with a wild flick or gesticulation of your hands. 
 Clark moves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his sharp nose.“We’re not going to use my heat vision-”
 “-Yes, we are.” 
 “No, we aren’t. Do you want me to list the ways this could go wrong?”
 “Relax, my human shield is invincible.”
 “You’re horrible.”
 “Yup.”
 “I really can’t convince you?”
 “Nope.”
 “What if I just don’t?”
 “Then I dip out and break into a different lab to get a bunsen burner.”
 Clark laughs, shaking his head fondness seeping into his smile. It made your heart melt and your face heat. You know you’ve won when Clark moves his seat closer to you. For some reason, Clark always insisted on sitting just a little farther from you no matter the circumstance. 
 You two lean in. Clark gives you a side glance. “For the record, I said this was a bad idea.”
 “Fine, I’ll quote you on that once I’ve won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry.”
 Clark snorts. He removes his glasses, the blue of his eyes shifting to an angry red. It makes your breath hitch every time being reminded just how dangerous your sweet, gentle best friend really is. 
 You watch the liquid in the flask begin to boil and you make a noise of triumph, throwing your arms up in the air in delight. Clark smiles at you and you feel a little embarrassed by your reaction but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear.   You both lean back and you toss him a smug smile. He huffs at you amused and rolls his eyes. 
 “Fine, not all of your ideas are-”
 Crack. 
 Shatter. 
 Shards of glass fly everywhere as the flask shatters. You yelp high and surprised. Clark pulls you into his arms shielding you from the glass and hot acid. You hiss when a shard cuts against the delicate skin of your forehead. You’re numb as you feel the blood trickling staining Clark’s shirt. Your senses were more focused on the way he wraps his arms around you and how safe you feel despite the graze on your forehead. 
 “Y/n, Clark, are you two ok?”
 You hear the frantic footsteps approach you but neither of you pulls away. You just focus on how tightly Clark holds you against himself.  You feel the flex of his large muscles as he pulls you closer. 
 “We’re fine sir but I think Y/n needs to go to the clinic.”
 Do you? 
 Your fingers rise up your forehead and your stomach drops a little when they come away red. You’re aware that you’re bleeding but it takes some time for the knowledge to fully sink in. Your professor is practically shoving you out of the room by the time you even make any move to react. 
 “Y/n, I-”
 “I swear to god if you say I told you so I’ll punch you in the face-” You look into his eyes, your voice amazingly calm. He opens his mouth again. “- and if you say I’m sorry I’ll punch you in the dick.” His mouth closes and you both fall silent even as you go down the hall towards the university’s health office which was just a glorified clinic with the addition of counselors and a waiting room with Rubix cubes instead of magazines. Clark doesn’t loosen his grip on your shoulder even as you wait for the nurse to come out and treat you. 
 Your mind feels far less frantic than it did a few moments ago. 
 “I told you it was a bad idea.” Clark jokes offhandedly.
 You snort at the remark and glare at him without any real venom. “You really aren’t as nice as people say you are.”
 “Nope.”
 “Jackass.”
 This draws a tired laugh from him. “Well, I’m sorry. Why don’t I make it up to you then?”
 “Unless you’ve got a Porsche in your back pocket”
 He winces. You snort again. 
 “How bout coffee?” You blink at him. “Or maybe dinner? This Friday?” He adds with a hopeful lilt. 
 “Just as long as you don’t invite a mugger to come along.”  
 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THANKS FOR READING
taglist:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell
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kiatheinsomniac · 4 years
Text
Unwoven Fate VI
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[MY MASTERLIST]
(Y/n) took another sip of her bitter coffee as she cast a glance into the fireplace, sitting with the Assassins.
"It doesn't make sense." She shook her head.
"That's precisely why it's so unusual." The man, who she now knew as La Volpe, replied.
"A dead child? They planted a dead child at the villa?" (Y/n) had to close her eyes and take in a deep breath. Her Aunt and Uncle were evermore being revealed as monsters to her. "Why go to that length just to take me in?"
"None of us had seen you in over three years so when we saw the child's body, we all assumed it was you," Machiavelli chimed in.
"But you had no idea that my mother had any family?" (Y/n) repeated again. Why had her mother hidden her past?
"No. She told us that she was an orphan from Vienna and moved to Forlì with her adopted father when she was young."
"She never mentioned Vienna to me as far as I can remember." (Y/n)'s brows furrowed. She could feel tears threatening her eyes but she kept them back as she took another sip of coffee, biting her inner cheek. If only Emma were there for the young woman to question her.
"What I still don't know is the connection between Emma lying about her past and why your Aunt and Uncle had her and Lorenzo killed." Volpe hummed.
"And why they killed an innocent child just to take me in. . ." (Y/n) added quietly, feeling guilt for whoever that nameless, faceless youth was. Whoever she was or would have been had died in her family's scheme.
"And, until now, the only thing you've known of the Assassins was what you found in the letter from my uncle." Claudia's brother added as he handed it back to her, having gone over his passed loved one's handwriting so many times.
"My Aunt and Uncle never mentioned it before. Originally, I thought it was because they didn't know but now I'm not so sure. . . It doesn't sit right anymore."
"There's definitely something deeper here. . ." Machiavelli pondered, walking away to the other room in order to think. (Y/n) put her cup of coffee down on the table beside her, no longer having an appetite for its bitterness. "Every time I go looking for answers, all I find is more questions." She sighed exasperatedly.
"And you will have them," Volpe spoke as he stood up, "You are Lorenzo's and he was like family to us, Emma became family in time too. We won't turn you away." She found herself smiling bittersweetly at this. On her journey, she felt that she had lost any sense of home so, while it was nice to be offered somewhere to stay, it felt painfully temporary.
"You may join our ranks." Ezio spoke up, causing some looks of surprise around the room, "Your family come from our Brotherhood and there will be a place for you here if you wish to take it. I'll give you all the time you need to make your decision."
An Assassin. He was right to give her time to make up her mind, it was a very big decision. It was a new life. Wasn't that what she wanted? Either way, she would definitely take her time on this one instead of jumping at every chance presented to her.
"Thank you," She spoke with a grateful bow of her head and she rose from her seat, "I'm aware that I've delayed your meeting, I'll let you get on." And she made her way back to the main hall where she found a bookcase and a pigeon cage with a carrier pigeon inside.
After a few times, stealing had come naturally to her but killing? Did she have it in her? She shook her head; she needed to know more about this cause before she even started on that train of thought. What about this brotherhood had stirred her mother's passion so much that she had revoked her own family? She turned to the bookshelf, seeing some scrolls tucked between the volumes here and there and decided to see if the papers held any answers for her.
⚜⚜⚜
Two months had passed since and she woke up to the sound of the door across her room opening, hearing footsteps go down the corridor. Emilio's heavy door was usually what woke her up in the morning. (Y/n) threw her arms upon her pillow, groaning as she stretched her back and then sat upright, reaching for her aching shoulders.
She had accepted Ezio's offer of becoming a recruit for the Brotherhood and she felt that she was making good progress. She was not yet trained enough to be called on in the field but she hoped that she would be promoted soon. Ezio was the Brotherhood's primary mentor but he was also a busy man which meant that the recruits often spent most of their training sparring against each other.
(Y/n) fought with her father's hidden blade which had been repaired with a little oil to restore its long-neglected mechanics. The training had definitely taken its physical toll on her: she had not been very athletic before so aches and pains after a long day came without fail but practise and a lot of torn muscles were making her grow more and more used to her new lifestyle. She got out of bed and tidied up the sheets behind her: it had been a skill she'd taught herself during her residence at the Assassin hideout after being raised with servants to do it for her throughout her life.
There were still aspects of (Y/n)'s life as a noblewoman that she didn't want to let go of though and makeup was one of them. It motivated her to get out of bed as soon as she awoke instead of staying curled up in the sheets and she simply didn't feel prepared for the day until it was complete. It didn't take her too long to apply the light powder across her face and neck along with the blush on her lower cheeks. She oiled her lashes, dusted her brows and dappled some lipstick to the centre of her mouth in a matter of minutes then got to weaving her hair into a braid around her head like a crown. Her previous braided style had proved impractical for training as she'd found that they would often hit her in the face if she turned quickly.
She pulled on her wine-coloured recruit robes and took a final glance at herself in the small mirror, touching her necklace to the two strings of pearls around her neck. Somehow those pearls made her feel like she had made the right decision - the pearls of her Assassin mother now being worn by her Assassin-recruit daughter.
(Y/n) had noticed that she was now the best free runner out of the other four recruits but she knew exactly why. As she made her way downstairs to raid the pantry for whatever fruit preserves were left, she reflected on her experience so far. The other recruits didn't trust her and they weren't very good at hiding it. They found her mysterious past daunting somehow and remained suspicious of her because of it. This often meant that she was excluded from sparring so she had been spending much more time running across the rooftops of Rome and (without others knowing) checking the carrier pigeons. She would often check on what sort of contracts were available so that she could grasp a better idea of what it meant to be an Assassin.
She ate her usual breakfast of a cup of coffee and a few slices of bread smeared with fruit preserve. By the time she got to the hall where the recruits would train, she found three of them already sparring, the fourth reading in the corner. She already knew that she wouldn't be included this day and decided to make her way outside instead, climbing up to the roof.
(Y/n) had made it routine to take the leap of faith from the top of the hideout now. She knew that only formally initiated Assassins were supposed to take the leap of faith but she had performed it in an escape from a rooftop archer two weeks ago and loved the thrill that came with it.
Landing in the haystack below, she left Isola Tiberina and made her way further north in the city, scaling a wall once the buildings were close enough to start running over. She liked to challenge herself too: using flag poles, tightropes, ledges and balconies to really expand her potential routes.
Once the afternoon came about and the sun was beating down from overhead, she decided to take shelter on a platform that was fairly sheltered by the taller building beside it, casting her in shadows. The coos of pigeons joined the urban ambience of chatter from the streets below. (Y/n) sat down on and leaned her back against the wall, looking at the view around her. That's when she noticed that there was an irregularity in the shadow of the wall behind her: the straight line was interrupted by a rounded figure. She silently but quickly turned around, keeping in a crouch, suspecting that it was a guard. But what she was met with instead surprised her and she got to her feet as the figure jumped down to join her.
"Mentore," She greeted as his taller figure approached her, gesturing for her to sit back down. She did and he joined her, one of his knees propped up with his arm resting over it. It had been quite a while since the recruits had seen Ezio in more than just passing.
"Recruits aren't supposed to do the leap of faith, you know." He started and (Y/n) opened her mouth to apologise so quickly that she had missed the tone of amusement in his voice, "But you did it well, fearlessly, as it should be done."
"I actually wasn't as afraid as I thought I'd be the first time I did it." She started, glancing at him as he looked across the streets of Rome, "But that probably had something to do with that fact that the guard had already shot two arrows at my feet and I doubted that he would miss a third time." This made the man beside her laugh heartily, "I do think that the first time should be more ceremonial but desperate times call for desperate measures."
"Have you been following me all day or did you happen to find me again?" She questioned, now knowing that there was the chance she had actually been observed all day.
"You'll have to find out the next time this happens." He replied and (Y/n) set her eyes back on the streets, the hot sun climbing ever higher into the sky. "You're much better at freerunning than the rest of the recruits." He praised.
"I just spend more time doing it." She bit her cheek, "They don't seem to trust me enough to let me train with them as much as I'd like." She could see him turn to face her from the corner of her eyes.
"They just have a lot of questions."
"So do I. . ." She shifted the way that she was sitting, bringing her knees up enough to rest her arms over them. "I've been at a standstill for a while in terms of looking for answers and now I'm worried that I won't be able to find anymore." She confided.
"Journys like yours can be long and they can stop and start at times," He began, "Believe me, I would know. I spent years hunting all the men involved in my family's murder: I was acting as an Assassin without knowing that my father was one, that my brother was to take over for him while I minded the bank. Now I'm the Assassin and Claudia is the one who knows how to handle our finances. Sometimes you just need to let yourself sit out for a while before you're able to keep on going."
"I heard about your family in Florence. . . People still talk about you." He hummed, a smile teasing his face then vanishing again.
"I made some irrational decisions when I was young. My first major kill was out in the open and I announced myself to the crowd after. I've been a wanted man for a long time." There was a silence. "Just promise me that you won't let this take you down a path of vain revenge. It'll only hurt you more." She could hear in his voice that he was speaking from experience still.
"I'm not entirely sure that I can promise that. My own family killed my parents, essentially kidnapped me and lied to me for years. I'm not sure if I can forgive that and I'm not sure that I can face them again. I know that the day will come when I'll have to but I just don't know if I can."
"This life will toughen you up whether you want it to or not. When the time comes, you'll be ready." He patted her shoulder as he rose to his feet. "Andiamo."
"Where are we going?" (Y/n) asked as she followed him across an archway to another roof, continuing to lead her east.
"To teach you how to better use that blade!" He called from ahead of her and a smile painted her face.
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Text
Love in Literacy Ch.10 (Levi xFem!Reader)
Into her Mind:
(all updated on my ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083745)
FOUR YEARS AGO.
“Hey!”
You lifted your chin from your hands. You didn’t know the girl standing in front of you, but you recognized her. Her eyes were a distinct piercing green. They almost seemed to glow under the hazy light emitting from the dimly lit gas lamp placed on the wall of the dining hall. Your tears had dried at this point, but you were still in a shitty mood. And the cocky grin she sported while she leered down at you wallowing in your misery only infuriated you further. You glared up at her.
“What the hell do you want?”
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
EARLIER THAT DAY.
It was ridiculously hot. The sun beat down on you relentlessly. It left a stinging, sticky feeling on your skin, but you didn’t falter. You pounded the training dummy, every extension of your arm left it feeling sore. Eventually, you had to take a break. You leaned on your knees, taking in heaving breaths. Should I go shower now …? You pondered, as you took in a long, slow drink of water. As you were walking back to the bench to grab your sweat towel, you heard someone call your name. You looked back up to see Commander Shadis standing at the end of the bench, arms crossed stiffly behind his back as he returned your gaze.
“Good afternoon, could I borrow you for a moment?”
Shadis had never intimidated you, but as you took in his expression, an inexplicable feeling of dread washed over you, leaving the palms of your hands feeling clammy. You nodded and reluctantly followed him to the exit of the training grounds.
“Is there something you need, sir?” you asked, as the two of you came to a stop at the gate.
He observed your face for a moment, before releasing a tired sigh, and reaching into his coat. He pulled out a small envelope and held it out to you. You slowly grabbed it from him, and immediately noticed the bright red wax seal on it. A unicorn. You cocked a brow. The Military Police...? You shot him a confused look.
“Uh… what is this?”
He shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “I regret to be the one to tell you this, but we just received word that your mother has died.”
He kept talking for a while after that, but to be honest, you couldn’t really hear him. The world fell silent around you. You caught something about a strain of tuberculosis. Something about a neighbor finding her dead in her bed. You were only pulled from your trance when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Take the day off soldier. The envelope contains her will and a letter to you.”
You stared blankly at the envelope. You didn’t want to open it, but you would have to eventually. You began to peel away at the seal, but you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking. I can’t do this right now, I'll open this later. You shoved the envelope into your jacket and headed back to your barrack.
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PLAY THIS FOR THIS SEGMENT
My Dandelion,
I hope this letter finds you well.
You sniffled. She must’ve had someone helping her write this, she never knew how to read or write very well.
It seems I’ve fallen ill. Dr. Jaeger has told me that he worries about my condition, and that it’s a very real possibility that I may die from this illness. So I wanted to send you this letter, in case of the worst possible outcome. Your old friend Milly is helping me write this letter. She’s a very kind young woman. Do you remember her? She lives next door, you two used to play together when you were younger. I remember feeling so grateful that you had a friend, the short-tempered crybaby you were, it was nothing short of a miracle. Well, I don’t want to make this letter too long, so I’ll get to the point now. To get the formalities out of the way, of course, all of my possessions go to you, my one and only daughter.
I should’ve realized it sooner, but it only occurred to me after I’d fallen ill that I’m old, and that I will die soon, whether it be from this sickness, or from something else. And I don’t want to leave anything unsaid. I’m sorry for the way I treated you growing up. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I should’ve given you the best childhood I possibly could’ve.
You had to stop reading here. You lowered the letter and took in a long, shaky breath. This was so like her. She made it sound so much worse than it was. She lashed out at you sometimes when you were younger. But it was never something you held her responsible for. It was so long ago. It was heartbreaking to think that she still felt guilty about it to her dying days. You sighed, and opened the letter back up to continue reading.
The death of your father, and the debt he left for us left me feeling resentful, and in my weakest moments, I took it out on you, and for that, I am so very sorry. But you know that I love you, and my love, through all my years, has never wavered. And I like to think that's the reason you’ve turned into the fine, brave young woman that you are. Words can not describe how proud of you I am. Although, when you told me you wanted to join the Scout Regiment, I can’t say that I didn’t question your judgment. But I decided a long time ago that I wouldn’t interfere with your decisions. All I ask is that you live a respectable life, and that you are kind to the people around you. It makes a bigger impact on the world than you might think. And you should try keeping that temper of yours in check, or else you won't make any friends. I love you, dandelion. Please live happily, even if I’m no longer there beside you.
You stared blankly at the bottom of the page, as if that would somehow make more words appear on the letter. But that was it. You closed the letter. And now the tears just wouldn’t stop. So you just sat there, crying silently, until you eventually fell asleep.
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“What the hell do you want?”
Her smile only grew at this.“Sorry, I didn’t realize the princess must remain undisturbed.”
You shot up from your seat on the stairs, fists clenched. This is why you were hesitant to leave your room. What a bitch.
“I don’t have to deal with this right now,” you said coolly, as you got up from your seat on the staircase.
She flinched as you stepped forward, but as she saw that you were aiming to walk past her, she regained confidence. “H-hey wait,” she said, placing her hand on your shoulder. “I wanted to-”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” you barked, shoving her hand off. “Just leave me alone!”
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After the girl had stormed off, Marla stood at the staircase, still slightly dumbfounded by the interaction. Maybe I’m not as good at flirting as I thought … Naw. That can’t be it, she decided, giving herself a confident grin. But it had gone really bad. She was more temperamental than she had anticipated.
“Marla!”
Marla whipped her head back to see Hange running towards her, with a goofy grin on their face.
“I just saw her walking off. She looked pissed. What’d you do?” Hange panted. “I thought you were just going to flirt with her a little bit.”
“I was! And I didn’t do anything. I knew she was hot-headed, but this is a whole different level!” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hange gave her a look of disbelief.
“I told you you should've done it another time! You really need to leave people alone when things like this happen.”
Marla gave Hange a dumb look. “...When things like this happen...?”
Hange gave her an equally dumb look. “...Didn’t you know?” Hange asked, cocking their head curiously. Marla smacked her head.
“Obviously not if I’m asking you, dim-wit.” she groaned. “So spill it. What happened?”
“Her mother died this morning.”
The blood drained from Marla’s face.
“...Are you serious?” she said quietly.
“Mhm.”
Fuck.
“Tell me that shit before I go!” she fumed. “How could you let me go try to flirt with her when her mother died this morning!” she hissed, as her face grew a bright shade of red. Ugh, I should’ve known better than to rely on Hange for social tact.
Hange threw their hands up in innocence. “Hey, since when is it my job to keep you informed? I thought you would know because you were so interested in her.” they jeered, throwing their arm over Marla’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t sweat it too much, Marla! Just apologize another day.”Marla groaned.
“Ugh, please just shut up.”
Marla ran her hand through her hair. She had messed up.
I need to fix this.
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THE FOLLOWING MORNING.
“I’m sorry.”
Chatter bounced off the walls of the dining room in the morning breakfast rush, as scouts hurried to get their food before the good stuff ran out. You stared up at her blankly from your seat on the bench. She looked different from yesterday. Nervous now. Her face was a light shade of pink, and her hands refused to stop fiddling with the loose cloth of her t-shirt. You looked back down at your food, chomping off a large bite of your bread.
“Okay.”
Silence.
“...O-okay? Is that all you’re going to say?”
God, what the hell did she want from you?
“Mhm.”
“Well, do you accept my apology?”
You opened your mouth to tell her to buzz off, but something stopped you.
“And you should try keeping that temper of yours in check, or else you won't make any friends.”
You sighed and forced a frigid smile onto your face. You better be grateful for this.
“Sure.”
She stared at you, mouth agape. She could’ve at least tried to hide her shock, you thought, rolling your eyes. You focused back on your meal until you heard a quiet laugh. You flipped your head back to where she stood and saw her giggling. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth when you met her gaze, eyes wide.
“What?”
“I’m sorry...but why’d you smile like that? It looked so forced.” She said quietly, slowly moving her hand from her face. Finally, she let out the sharp laugh she’d been stifling. “I remember thinking, ‘I wonder what she looks like when she smiles’...I did not expect that.” She cackled. Any attempt to hide her laughter had vanished. You stared at her, unsure of how to respond. You heard quiet snickers circulating around the tables near you, and your face began to heat up.
“Who the hell are you to judge how I smile! You should be lucky I smiled for you at all!” You exclaimed, in a shrill voice. You hopped up from your seat and began to walk to the exit. Marla's face fell.
“Wait, I’m sorry-”
“I shouldn't have bothered. Screw you." You could feel everyone's eyes boring into your back, but you didn’t care. You just needed to leave.
You woke up the next morning still feeling groggy. As expected, it hadn’t been easy to go to sleep. But thankfully, you didn’t have to get up early for training. You were to return to Shiganshina today for your mother's burial, so you had the day off. As you were beginning to freshen up, you jerked your head to the door at a loud banging. What the heck? You hurriedly threw on your coat and cautiously walked to the door. You slowly pulled it open and popped your head out of the opening, darting your eyes left and right, searching for whoever had knocked. But there was no one. You sighed. Did they knock just to run away? How immature. You pushed the door open further, and you felt a small thump against the door. You looked down and saw a small, white box, topped with a sloppily placed red bow. You eyed it warily, before quickly picking it up and hurrying back into your room
You sat at the edge of your bed. Who could’ve done this? You mentally ran through all of your fellow soldiers, but you weren’t close enough to any of them to warrant gift giving. Could it be something horrible? Would you open it and find a mangled, bloody hand? Or maybe a set of human eyes?
...
Dear God, how old were you? It’s just a box. You shook your head in disbelief as you hastily pulled it open. The sweet scent of strawberries wafted up into your nose as you did, and inside the box were 6 identical pieces of powdered bread. You gingerly picked one up and observed it. Sugar? You’d never had sweet bread before. Growing up, it was a delicacy your mom couldn’t afford. You brought it up to your face and gave it a sniff. You coughed as powdered sugar ran up your nose. After you'd gathered yourself, you noticed a small note tucked in between the pieces and pulled it out.
I’M SORRY ABOUT YESTERDAY. I HEARD YOU LIKE STRAWBERRIES.
-MARLA
You folded the note back neatly and put it back in the box. You picked up a piece of bread and took a small careful bite.
It tasted really good.
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A YEAR AND A HALF AGO
“Get your hands off of me!” you seethed.
“You have to stay in bed! You have internal bleeding...if you fracture your rib again, it could stab your organs!” Hange pleaded as they gripped your shoulders tightly. “They just healed! They’re fragile!” But you couldn’t hear them. You saw their mouth moving, but you couldn’t make out the words. Your obliviousness infuriated you.
“You know I can’t hear you, so shut the fuck up!”
“Goddamnit, why are you so adamant on dying? If I let go of you, where the hell would you even go?!”
Only a high-pitched ringing in your ears.
“I can’t hear you!” you screamed, thrusting your body wildly to escape from their grip. “I can’t hear you!”
Nurse Lana and her assistant came rushing in. The assistant hovered behind Lana, hands trembling and eyes wide, like a wounded animal. Nurse Lana whipped her head to Hange in bewilderment.
“What happened?! I left you two alone for five minutes!” she shouted.
“She’s lashing out again! I-I think we might need some anesthesia!”
“Maria! Grab the anesthesia!”
“Y-yes ma’am!” she squeaked. Maria sprinted out the door, pale as a sheet. She seemed pretty eager to leave the room.
Lana hurried over to your bedside. She pulled a small clipboard from her coat and quickly scribbled something on it. After she was done, she held it out to you. You stopped thrashing around momentarily to read it, taking in short, labored breaths as you did.
PLEASE CALM DOWN.
“No! Let me leave!”
Maria came scurrying in with a bottle and some syringes and hurriedly began preparing them. Your eyes widened at the sight. Anesthesia? Your breathing became quicker and your chest felt like it was about to burst as you locked your eyes on the bottle. You didn’t want to go to sleep. You couldn’t go to sleep. You couldn’t handle the nightmares.
“...H-hey! What the hell is she doing!” you said, jerking your head up to Hange, who was still holding you down from behind. “Hange, what is she doing! Y-you know that stuff gives me nightmares!” Hange looked at you, pain painted on their expression as they tore their gaze away from yours. They couldn’t even meet your eye. A pit opened in your stomach.
“Let go of me! You can’t put that shit in me!” you shouted. You began tugging away from Hange with a newfound ferocity that obviously caught them off guard, because one of your arms finally managed to escape their grip. You immediately began attempting to free your other arm. Nurse Lana stared momentarily at the scene in disbelief.
“How the hell can she move like that...” she muttered, furrowing her brow, she rubbed her temples, and then looked back to Hange. “Hange! You need to keep her down or I won't be able to inject her!” she urged.
“I know! But she’s strong!”
“She can barely walk! Handle it!”
Your freedom was short-lived. Soon enough, Hange had you within their grasp again, and the Nurse was walking over to your bedside, syringe in hand.
You shot Hange one last desperate look. Please.
You had always been shitty at reading lips, but you were able to catch what Hange said as she looked down at you, with a guilt-ridden expression.
I’m sorry.
You felt the needle go into your arm, and the world around you fell silent.
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“Marla!” you shout at her, “Marla please stop!”
She cannot hear you.
You step in front of her.
She cannot see you.
You tug at her arm, pulling it away from her face.
She cannot feel you. So she continues biting the flesh from her arm. Chewing it thoughtfully and deliberately, as if it were her last meal. Finally, she looks back at you. She stares deeply inside of you.
“Would you like a bite?”
“...What?”
“Would you like a bite?”
You gasp as she brings her bloodied arm towards your mouth. An offering.
“N-no thank you, and please stop biting it. You're going to die.”
She tilts her head curiously.“Isn’t that what you want?”
“What are you talking about! Of course not!”
“But I saw.”
“...W-what?”
“Inside of you,” she says softly. She looks sad.
“That’s ridiculous,” you mutter bitterly.
“Would you like a kiss?”
“Yes.”
She kisses you softly, and you can feel yourself melting. Her sweet lips on yours again are like heaven. She pulls back slightly to take in a breath, eyes still lingering on your lips. She kisses you again, but this time more deeply, with more desire. You feel her tongue slide against your bottom lip. Oh, how you wanted to feel this again, even if it was just one more time.
But it quickly goes sour. Suddenly, Marla’s eyes flick open, and her grip on the back of your head tightens, to the point of pain. You try to squirm away, but she holds your chin firmly still with her other hand. *You feel something dripping from her mouth into yours, and you quickly realize its blood. And then, you feel something else enter your mouth. Her tongue? No. You realize with a sinking horror that she's shoving her arm meat from earlier into your mouth. You take in a sharp breath from shock, which involuntarily causes you to swallow a bit. You jolt backward, escaping her grasp, gagging. You collapse onto your forearms and knees, hacking spit, trying to get the taste from your mouth. But it's impossible. No matter how many times you spit, the sour taste of her blood remains on your tongue.*
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Marla watches you from above, with a stony face. You look back up to her panting, eyes brimming with tears. When she sees you looking at her, she cracks a cold smile.
“I knew you’d eat it.”
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A COUPLE WEEKS AGO
You stared at your clock, and let out a groan. Where were they? You wondered, chewing at the end of your pen. They were supposed to have been here an hour ago. Maybe I should just go back to my room. You’d been waiting here for a while. Something might’ve come up with her, and you couldn’t wait in the library all night. With a small grunt, you pulled yourself up from your chair and began gathering your things, when you saw some movement in your top peripheral. You shot your head up, and you watched as Isabel charged through the door, and up to the front of your desk, a panting mess. You stared at her mouth, but with how fast she was talking, in combination with the fact that she seemed to be stuttering over every one of her sentences, it was hard to catch it all.
“Isabel! I have no idea what you're trying to say!” you snickered. “Please catch your breath and calm down.”
“Oh-oh yeah...okay sorry,” she breathed, pulling up a chair. “I said, ‘I’m so sorry I’m late and ‘Shadis kept us out for training longer than usual’ and ‘Levi didn’t want to come, he said something about needing to focus on the expedition’.”
“Oh, okay,” you said, offering her a small smile. “Well, let's just sit,” you told her, pulling up a second chair.
Why didn’t Levi come? He’s the one who said he wanted to have a second reading lesson. You sighed. But it did make sense. Perhaps it was presumptuous of you to assume that your lesson would be at the top of his priorities right now. Besides, you’d be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't just using these meetings to distract yourself from the expedition. Yout turned back to Isabel, who was patiently waiting for you to begin the lesson.
“Ready to begin?”
“Yes ma’am!” she piped.
“Ah Isabel, don't call me ma’am,” you said through a shy laugh.“It makes me feel like someone's granny.”
“Oh! Sorry!”
“It’s alright... Well anyways, how about we pull out a piece of paper and see how signature practice is going?” you said, as you carefully ripped out a loose sheet from your notebook, handing it to Isabel. She immediately got to work. She shut her eyes tightly and quickly moved her hand across the page. After she was done, you pulled the page from her, analyzing the work. She stared at you apprehensively, shifting in her seat. It was really good. As good as Levi’s had been. A surge of pride surged through your chest.
“So? How is it?” she whispered.
“Isabel, this looks amazing! I think you’ve completely memorized it!” you grinned.
“Really!?”
“Yeah!”
“Wow!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat.
“Isabel, wait a moment here, I have just the thing for the occasion!”
“O-okay!”
You ran over to your desk and pulled out a small brown paper bag from a drawer, and then back to the table. You pulled out a piece and held it out to her. She gave you a confused look.
“What is it?”
“It’s sweet bread! Take a bite!”
“Well...okay then. Thanks!”
She stared at it momentarily, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the awe in her eyes. It reminded you of the first time you’d had a sweet. You watched in amusement as she took a small bite, chewing it slowly. You frowned.
“Oh no, that’s no good! Take a bigger bite! How else are you going to get the jelly at the center?” you chuckled. “Like this!” You pulled out another piece from the bag, and took a large bite, powdered sugar falling onto your upper lip. You swallowed and gave her a wide grin.
“Like that.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll go again.” She giggled. She imitated the bite you took, stifling a small smile. After she swallowed, she stared down at the bread. Out of nowhere, tears started pouring out of her cheeks, and you jumped up from your seat.
“Woah, woah, what's wrong?” you asked, furrowing your brow.
“No, no, it’s nothing!” she flushed a deep shade of pink, fervently wiping her tears away. “...It’s just really good,” she said, softly.
You gave her a soft smile.
“It is, isn’t it?”
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“You have sugar on your face,” Levi said.
The two of you sat together in the garden, eating sweet bread. The warm sun felt lovely on your skin.
“Oh, what?” your face began to heat up, as you wiped aimlessly at your mouth. You looked back at him.
“Uh, did I get it?”
“Come here.”
“...What?”
He slipped his hand onto your lower back, and he tugged you towards him. When his hand made contact with your back, you felt a tingling shock run up your spine. Your faces were just inches away. He gently grabbed your chin, wiping it away with his thumb. Your heartbeat rose from your chest to your ears.
“Thank you,” you said, as you began shying away from his hand.
But he still held your chin.
He pressed his lips against yours. Your chest felt like it was going to burst. The feeling made you want to run away and hide, but at the same time, you didn’t want anything to interrupt the moment. Your lips parted slightly, and Levi’s followed suit. They were soft. You felt his tongue creeping into your mouth…
Your eyes flickered open. Your eyes darted back and forth the room, taking in your surroundings. You had fallen asleep in the library. You sighed and placed your hand on your cheek. It was warm. Really warm. You sighed. This is literally the last thing I need right now, you thought, glumly. You covered your face in your hands, and let out an obnoxious groan. You needed to calm down. After you were done having your moment, you pulled yourself away from your hands.
Well…Time to suppress that memory.
You stretched your arms, and leapt up from your chair, and began to head out of the library. By the end of the day, you’d forgotten about the dream.
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auroralwriting · 4 years
Text
Three Months
Request: Would you be willing to write of how Hiddleston would react to hearing he got the reader unintentionally pregnant?
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Pregnant! Reader
Warnings: Angsty if you squint, total fluff tho
Masterlist
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Staring down at the white stick in your hands, your heart drops to the floor boards as tears prick the corners of your eyes. Two lines. Two red little lines, clear as day.
You’re pregnant.
It wasn’t like you and Tom were trying, you two weren’t even married yet. You sighed as you realized you’d have to buy a new wedding dress, one to fit the baby bump that was soon to come.
Your fiancé and you had gotten engaged a few months ago in a quiet little setting one night after Tom had prepared a romantic dinner in your kitchen for the two of you. Yes, you had done it prior, but you were always so careful. You always had protection. But, as the box says, it doesn’t work all the time.
You felt like Rachel from FRIENDS. Of course, your Ross per say was your soon to be husband, but you didn’t know how Tom would react. And you were scared, too. How do you even be a mother? Is there a handbook or something?
The knob on the front door rattled, shaking you from your state of panic. You quickly threw the test under the sink and into the cabinet. You couldn’t tell him now, you weren’t ready. Maybe in a week or so after the thought settled in.
“Darling, I’m home!” Tom called out from the living room. You heard the thump of his bag he took from his trailer to the apartment hit the floor.
“Hi, baby. How was filming?” you asked as Tom embraced you into a warm hug. You weren’t an actor, but you knew a few tricks Tom had taught you over the last few years. Enough to keep him from being suspicious until that bump appeared.
Tom sighed. “Good, good. I just missed you. Wish you could’ve been on set today.”
“I know, Tom, but I had work. You’re not the only one who gets a pay.” you chuckled. “I have dinner ready. Come eat with me?”
“Of course, love. Give me a few minutes to change.” Tom nodded as you pulled back from his arms.
Over the next three and a half months, you ad kept your little secret hidden from Tom. Somehow, you were still terrified to tell him. It seemed like as the days went on, you got more frightened.
You had a small bump going on, but wearing loose clothing and sweatshirts helped a lot. You’d even managed to get Tom to change the position in which you cuddled at night, claiming him spooning you got too hot. You had to wonder if he was suspicious, but he never seemed to give any thought to the idea. Maybe he actually had no clue, maybe you still had some time to gather your thoughts.
Tom, on the other hand, really didn’t have a clue. He suspected nothing. Yes, you did seem off, but nothing too much. It could be anything, but it wasn’t anything too concerning. So, when you went to the store, he decided to give you a little spa day at home. Tom understood work stress, that’s what he was convinced it was.
As he looked around the bathroom, grabbing bath bombs, cute little candles with your favorite scents, he was missing one thing: soap bars.
The cabinet doors opened as Tom stuck his head in, searching for the small bar of bubbles. As he went to grab the bar, something else caught his eye. Tom grabbed it, eyebrows furrowing as he turned it over. He almost passed out when he saw what it was. A pregnancy test that was positive.
Was it yours? It had to be, who else’s would it be? But it was positive. How long ago had you taken this?
Suddenly, it all made sense in his mind. The turning away, loose clothing, it was because you were getting a baby bump. Tom put the test behind the soap dispenser as he put the soap bar under the water, allowing it to let bubbles fill the top of the water. He lit the candles and threw in the bath bomb, allowing the water to turn into a light lavender color that was still clear. He dimmed the lights to allow the candles to take over as light.
Tom shit the door to the bathroom, sitting on the couch and turning on the tv to whatever channel popped up first. He only had to wait fifteen minutes before you opened the door, your formal jacket falling to the floor.
“It’s too hot in the office.” you said, slipping off your heels and flopping down next to Tom. “I’m gonna file a complaint. It’s gotta be, like, eighty degrees.”
Tom chucked as he grabbed your hands. “Luckily for you, I have a surprise waiting in the bathroom.”
You cocked your head to the side as Tom motioned to the bathroom. You stood up, walking over and opening the door. You gasped as your eyes watered. It was perfect. You didn’t know why you were about to cry, must be the hormones.
“Tommy, it’s so amazing. I love you, thank you.” Tom smiled lovingly as you went to slip off your clothes. Wait. If you did, Tom would see the bump. “Uh,” you stuttered. “I forgot that I have to run a very important errand.”
“Love--”
“If I don’t I’m sure my boss will fire me.”
“Darling--”
“And I don’t want to leave the money situation all up to you.”
“Y/n!”
Tom’s voice shook you out of your babbling haze. “Yes?” you replied as innocently as you could muster.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Please.” He noticed. He noticed the act you had put up. It was game over. “I’m worried for you, you haven’t been acting normal for the last few weeks. Is everything alright, my love?”
You bit the inside of your bottom lip, hesitating on what to say next. “Well, uh, my uncle’s dog died. And I’ve known that dog for a long time now.” you lied, hoping you were as good as an actor as Tom.
“What was his name?” Tom asked, concern laced into his voice. Maybe you did fool him.
“Cosmo.” you replied.
“Which uncle?”
Shit. You weren’t read for that. “Uncle Felix. You know, my dad’s brother. The one with the black beard even though he has red hair.” you said.
“Baby, Felix doesn’t own a dog. He’s allergic, remember?” Tom asked. Well, it seems you didn’t fool him. You sighed, blinking your eyes closed for a second and accepting defeat. “Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?”
Your eyes shot open as you looked to Tom in a panic. “Am I what?” you questioned hurriedly. “Am I pregnant?”
Tom grabbed the test from behind the soap, looking at it, then to you. “Are you?” he whispered softly.
“I’m so sorry.” you shook your head. “I should have told you, I’m just so scared. So, so scared.” your voice shook as Tom set the test down on the counter top, embracing you into a hug.
“Don’t apologize, darling. It’s alright. And don’t be scared, please. We can do this together, okay? We can be nervous, but scared isn’t something we should be. Plus, it won’t be too good for the baby.” Tom chuckled, pulling back and putting a hand on your stomach. “How far along are you?”
“Three months or so.” you replied.
Tom stared at your belly. “Can I see?”
You nodded, pulling the loose blouse over your head. Tom’s eyes got watery as he stared at the tiny bump that held your child. His hands slowly ran across the area, making sure no inch of skin was left untouched. He leaned down and pressed a kiss above your belly button, trailing kisses back up to your lips.
“I bet it’s a girl.” Tom smiled. “Imagine how beautiful she’d be.”
“But if it were a boy, imagine how handsome he’s be. Getting all the ladies.” you and Tom laughed as he looked to the water.
“Let’s not let the water get cold. Can I join you?”
You nodded as you and Tom slipped out of your clothes, sliding into the tub. Now, all you had to do was wait six more months before you found out what the gender of your baby would be. And that made you more excited than anything.
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five-miles-over · 4 years
Text
‘Aftermath’ Chapter 11: All I Ask of You (Commodus x OC)
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Summary: Hoping to prove his own fears wrong, Commodus demands something more of his Pink Fairy. Meanwhile, Philomenus is determined not to back away from his plot to kill the emperor. 
Warning: Another incestuous kiss, and a little smut towards the end
Word Count: 3,694 (a bit longer than most chapters - please forgive me)
Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here
Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here
Read Part 3: Point of No Return here
Read Part 4: Look Down here
Read Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky here
Read Part 6: These Palace Walls here
Read Part 7: Wait For It here
Read Part 8: Something There here
Read Part 9: Be Prepared here
Read Part 10: Twisted Every Way here
“What is it? Tell me,” Commodus demanded the guard.  
“The girl, Sire. She’s unconscious.” 
Almost immediately, the emperor of Rome blinked in surprise while his limbs went numb. The guard couldn’t possibly be talking about the girl….his girl that he saw this morning. “Why…why have I been called?”
“She is under your penal custody, Sire. The physician can only administer medicine if you approve.”
Good heavens, Commodus cursed to himself as he strode towards the infirmary. He couldn’t let her die, not like this. Lucius almost jogged behind his uncle’s large footsteps, trying to keep up. 
When he reached the entrance of the infirmary, Commodus almost felt his heart stop for a moment as he tried to process the sight before him. Caesonia was lying down motionless on one of the white, unembellished beds. The physician’s assistant pressed a soaked rag to her forehead, while the physician observed. Much to the emperor’s surprise, the he chuckled when he looked at the doorway. “What amuses you, Galen?” Commodus asked, his lower lip twitching in anger.
“Forgive me, Highness. I merely remembered the day you were brought here after your battle. Unconscious, you lay on a bed in the infirmary while the girl watched physicians tend to you. And now here you are when she’s on the bed!”
Galen’s observation did nothing to alleviate Commodus’s spirits. Rather, it upset him even further to know it was his Pink Fairy who was being tended to. The emperor gazed at her with trembling hands as he sat on the edge of her bed. 
“What happened to her?” He asked Galen in a surprisingly quiet voice. The physician explained to him that Caesonia seemingly fainted from hunger and dehydration, a common condition among prisoners. However, due to her being in the palace instead of the dungeons, the guards must’ve believed it appropriate to bring her to the physician. 
Nodding slowly, Commodus rose from the bed without taking his eyes off of her for a moment. Trying to hide his fear of losing her, he hastily told Galen to administer her proper medication and to have her brought back to her chamber when she was sentient. 
“I wish to see her again tonight.”
“It shall be so, Highness.”
The emperor wasted no time in going to his study and pulling out a blank piece of parchment . Maximus, Lucilla, the late Caesar…he was going to prove them all wrong tonight. He was going to prove that Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus was truly capable of fulfilling the duty of a moral man, the duty of a loyal, courageous man. He would reveal everything to the object of his devotion- even if written words were all he had to offer her.
On the empty parchment, he began scribbling things that he wished that he could tell his rose, intimate things that he had only kept to himself until now, and even the clandestine things he would not even dare to acknowledge himself. Commodus’s hand clenched tightly around the quill as he purged his thoughts with ink. 
What if she laughs at me? No…she would not. She did not look one bit afraid when I came to her last night. She willingly took me in her arms and slept in my company. I knew the look in her eyes. Unlike everyone else, she saw me as a man instead of merely a ruler. No, she will not turn me away. She will be mine, and only mine.
——————————————————————————————————————- 
A few hours and several discarded pieces of parchment later, Emperor Commodus found himself standing at the doorway of her chamber. “Have her awoken and tell her I wish to see her,” he muttered to a guard after giving a small reward to the Praetorian for having brought Caesonia to Galen. There was truly no need for such formality - the emperor could see his prisoners whenever and however he wanted to - but she was no ordinary prisoner. Holding the letter, Commodus hoped that she would know just that. 
“Ave Caesar.” She attempted to stand, only to have him place her back on the bed. Reaching for his hand, Caesonia silently kissed his ring. Her eyelashes fluttered as she let go and hugged her knees close. Had she angered him? Was he expecting her to call him by name, just like she’d done this morning?
The two of them sat before each other in silence for a few moments before Commodus attempted to make small talk. He was crestfallen when she told him that she had no recollection of fainting, claiming only to remember walking around for a while before everything went black. Instead of trying to explain to her what happened, the emperor crumpled up the letter in his hand and kept a serious expression.
“I’m going to release you. You will no longer be my prisoner, Lady Caesonia.”
“You…you’re going to release me, Highness? To Antioch?”
“No.”
Caesonia blinked back tears at his callous declaration, unsure of what he could be implying. “As…as…as you wish, Caesar.” Just when she had begun to like the man talking to her, instead of fearing the emperor, he wanted her gone. If it weren’t for the stories about his temper and his cruelty, she would’ve fought to stay, begging and pleading for him not to send a lonely girl into a harsh city. If she were sent to Antioch, she’d at least have her father…assuming the emperor didn’t have him killed. But Caesonia felt too upset with herself to argue or even ask.
He dropped the crumpled parchment onto the floor. “Look at me.” Commodus grasped her chin and turned her towards him. “Caesonia…” he murmured, softly caressing her cheek. Gods, he hadn’t expected her to look so stone-like; it didn’t seem like she appreciated his gesture one bit. “You are going to be my wife. That is what I meant when I said you were no longer going to be my prisoner. I meant you were going to be my wife.”
Sensing her emotionless state, he straightened himself. “An emperor needs an heir,” Commodus continued, pacing the floor while he told her about the importance of an emperor’s marriage. He did not tell her about how he longed for her, and how he envied her ability to sleep so peacefully. And he certainly did not let a word slip about how he cherished her innocence and took great pleasure in her touch.
Caesonia reluctantly accepted his reasoning, despite her skepticism at his sudden proposal. She would never wish to get in the way of his duty as an emperor.
“Highness…” 
“Commodus,” he quickly cut her off. “I cannot waste our marriage telling you to call me that.”
“You dropped something on the floor, Commodus.” She calmly tried to explain, reaching for the parchment. 
Like a little boy caught doing mischief, Commodus reluctantly placed his hands in his lap while he watched her smooth the creases of the crumpled paper. His heart was in his throat yet again when her eyes examined the messily-written words.
Dearest Caesonia,
I wanted to make you mine since the moment our eyes met.
You were the reason I became a father to the people of Rome again. 
I couldn’t bear to send you away, and so I kept you for myself.
With every kiss and every glance that we shared, I felt your devotion and your kindness in each one. 
Yet I have given you coldness, when you deserved the warmth of a blanket on a frigid night.
I want to end this darkness, for I have enjoyed a glimpse of summertime. She stands before me, with a laugh like music and eyes of azure.
I long to be the sunlight that touches your perfect cheeks and caresses your soft skin every morning.
I want you to lead me from this painful solitude, my rose. And tell me that you want me as I want you.
 Indeed the pangs of love can make one very greedy, my rose.
 If you knew all of the desires that I feel for you…you would purse your delicate lips and compare me to a miser hungering for jewels.
And if you touched me again and looked into my eyes, they would tell you that I am yours…and that I want to be only yours.
The letter was somewhat disorganized, nothing like the eloquent speeches that he delivered before citizens or Senators. Caesonia’s heart softened as she underlined each word with her finger. Blinking again, she nervously smiled at Commodus and dared herself to place her hand on top of his. 
“Thank you…I do not know what to say.”
The emperor once again felt a mixture of surprise and courage, expecting her to be repulsed by his written confession. “Then kiss me.”
She gently pecked his lips, having never taken the lead before. 
“That was very nice, Caesonia,” he murmured darkly. “But…I’m afraid that kiss would only satisfy a boy, my rose. Do you think of me as a boy?”
“No,” her voice faltered as her fingertips traced his arm. “You…you’re an emperor.”
“And?” he chuckled. “Is that all I am to you?”
“You’re a man,” Caesonia conceded. 
“Yes I am,” he boldly tucked a hair behind her ear. “The people of Rome cannot see that, but you do.” Gods, she took his breath away without even trying to. If he could take her in his arms and hold her to his chest right now, he would never want to leave the bed.  Yet, he did not wish to have to bring her back to Galen. “Would you like to dine with me tonight?”
He continued, “I am asking as a man, not as an emperor, my rose. I will not punish you if you do not wish to accompany me.” But you must eat, he did not add. 
Caesonia accepted his pleasant-sounding proposal, much to Commodus’s jubilance. He would be thrilled to celebrate his impending marriage to a lovely woman of unwavering loyalty.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“The emperor will be furious when he finds this out.” 
Livid, Claudia was trying her best to not scream at her brother in front of their younger siblings. He was too proud about his plan to assassinate the emperor tomorrow at the Games.
Philomenus brought one of the twins into his lap. “Commodus will be dead before he can scream for the bitch that gave birth to him.”
“Don’t say that in front of the twins,” she scolded him. “And the emperor you love so much, loved his wife too.” In response to his sister, Philomenus remarked that Marcus Aurelius’s love didn’t stop his wife from having an affair with a gladiator. 
“Why are you defending him so much?” He fumed when she accused him of believing slander, watching her clean the kitchen.
Shoving a plate into the cupboard, Claudia huffed, “I’m defending him because he is the reason we are able to fill our bellies everyday. Otherwise I would be at a brothel at night, selling myself to buy bread the next morning.”
“Don’t give me that talk,” he angrily ordered. “As the man of the house, I would never let you do such a thing, not even if we were destitute.”
“Such will be our state if you dare bite the hand that feeds us!” 
Philomenus cornered her in the kitchen, blocking her so that she couldn’t escape. “Why don’t you understand?” He hissed, gritting his teeth. “We cannot survive for long under Commodus’s rule. All he cares about are the games! He’s killed his own father, stabbed General Maximus, murdered Senator Gracchus, banished his sister, and dissolved the entire Senate! Claudia, this man is not worthy of being the protector of Rome!”
His words did nothing to change her opinion. “Please, Philomenus…” Tears were rolling down Claudia’s cheeks as she quivered with terror. “Please don’t go through with this…I cannot lose you…think of the twins, if not of me.”
“I am thinking about them,” he cupped her cheeks. “I am thinking about their future in a republic, where the power will lie with the people of Rome. Don’t cry, sweet sister.” Philomenus brushed his lips against hers, hurt by her sobs. “Pray to the gods that Commodus will fall and Rome will finally regain her true self.”
—————————————————————————————————————
Figs and goat cheese had never tasted better. Commodus grinned as Caesonia fed him from the platter of food. Given faith and a little encouragement, she quickly blossomed from a fearful maiden into an affectionate betrothed. 
“Now let me feed you too,” he cooed, bringing a piece of bread dipped in olive oil to her mouth. She giggled while she chewed, placing a hand over her mouth out of modesty.  Unbeknownst to any of the servants, the two of them had been playing a flirtatious game under the table with their shoes. 
There was something about being with Caesonia that brought Commodus into a playful mood. He fondly thought about how they splashed each other in the baths like children this morning, and how he held her in his arms. If it hadn’t been for that impudent guard, he would’ve ravished her in those pools until they were tired.
She would be a good wife to him…perhaps even a good adoptive mother to Lucius as well. And in return, Commodus swore to himself that he would prove Maximus and Lucilla wrong and be a faithful, adoring husband. 
He continued to make small talk with Caesonia while they ate, occasionally exchanging a witty remark about Romans. She was impressed with his stories, her smile growing wider as he dramatically narrated about his favorite gladiatorial games. 
By the end of the meal, Caesonia was innocently interlacing her fingers in his. She turned her head towards window, having never seen such a spell-binding view in such a long time. Under a veil of darkness, the city of Rome looked very much alive, almost picturesque. 
“I wish I could see more,” Caesonia gushed. “The nighttime is so beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?” 
“It certainly is. Would you like to come to the terrace with me? Perhaps the view would be better.”
Accepting his invitation, she followed Commodus to the terrace. Bringing the emperor’s hands to her waist, Caesonia nuzzled into his chest and occasionally pressed her lips to his armor as she watched the stars. She hadn’t seen such a view in months, having been locked up in a tiny room with a window almost as big as her head. And even though Caesonia knew she was in the arms of the man responsible for her imprisonment, it didn’t feel as if she were dancing in the lion’s den. It felt like the comfort that she didn’t know that she craved for.
Stolen kisses bloomed into little signs of endearment, culiminating in a liplock that left the two of them breathless. 
“I would very much like to make love to you,” Commodus murmured out of nowhere, not paying one bit of attention to the sky anymore. The mood was too perfect for him to stifle his amorous desires. 
“But…but I have never done it before,” Caesonia faltered, “I’m a virgin. It…I…I wouldn’t be good.” Her jaw slightly dropped when the emperor confessed to her that he too had never laid with anyone before. Given the myriad of concubines and courtesans presented before him, she would’ve thought of him to be…experienced.
Of course, Commodus had actually been with a concubine once, two years ago in Germania. But given the lingering ominous atmosphere after his father’s death, not even two bottles of wine could make him impassioned. It only made him cry. 
Moreover, the young emperor secretly wished to save himself for someone who loved him, as he loved them. 
“But it is your choice, my rose,” he promised her. “If you do not wish for this, then I shall wait.”
“No, I would like to do this,” Caesonia persuaded him. It would truly do nothing for her to refuse him. If she was going to become his wife, then perhaps it would be a prelude to their life together. And if he didn’t want to marry her…then at least she could spend the night with someone who had pleased her with a love letter and an intimate dinner. “I would like to do this, Commodus.”
Nodding furiously, the emperor felt like he would explode trying to maintain his regal posture while hurrying his beloved to his bedroom. No sooner had the doors closed, Commodus crashed his lips into hers and sighed lustfully. 
He traced the curve of her shoulders, looking up and down at his beautiful girl. The emperor couldn’t wait to take her - it had been his fantasy for several nights. And yet it intimidated him, to be standing before her now; should he be rough with her or be gentle and enjoy each moment? It was a thought that had never crossed his mind before tonight. 
Commodus watched her body tremble. Her blue eyes followed his finger as he brushed it along her collarbone. He saw how the fine hairs on her arms stood on their ends as he held her. No, tonight would not be for merely satiating his fantasy. It would be a new beginning for them - one built upon intimacy, not upon trepidation.
The emperor kissed her again, sighing when he felt her hands in his hair again. As they deepened the kiss, Caesonia whimpered and Commodus slyly slid his tongue into her, which only strengthened her desires.
“I’d like to take your armor off,” she told him in a low voice. When he agreed, Caesonia began untying each part and placing it aside. The emperor found himself laughing under his breath at how delicately she was handling his protective garb. It wasn’t her fault that he wore so many layers. 
Finally, she pulled his tunic over his arms and let her hands linger against his chest, running a thumb over his male nipple. Caesonia admired the way his body resembled that of a Roman Adonis - well-built indeed, but it was not too muscular that it detracted from his natural good looks. She swallowed hard, returning to meet his eyes again. “You look handsome without it.”
“Thank you,” Commodus replied with the same tone. She knew nothing about the paranoia in his mind that made him wear armor all the time. Blessed was her innocence, he silently praised as his lips brushed against her neck. “Your dress…”
“You can take it off,” she consented. Soon, her pink stola became a heap of fabric on the floor and was joined by her coarse undergarments. Every other day, the emperor had a new rosy-hued dress brought for her to change into. Perhaps it was the similarity to the garments she’d chosen to wear to his infamous duel that cemented the association between her and the color pink. 
Commodus guided Caesonia to his bed, and gently laid her onto the mattress. Pushing her hair back, he admired her face and tried to memorize every detail. He did not wish to forget a single thing about tonight. Bringing his lips back to her neck, he climbed on top of her and slowly kissed his way down her naked body.
Having never felt so much pleasure, Caesonia threw her head back and sinfully moaned. While she loved his lips against her skin, she begged and pleaded for him to stop teasing so much.
Boyishly smiling, the emperor exhaled sharply as Caesonia peppered his neck and shoulder with soft kisses. It felt a bit clumsy at first, but as his groans of pleasure grew needier, she felt bolder with passionate devotion.
“I want you inside me, Commodus. Please.”
His cock entered between her legs and ,with one last kiss to her lips, Commodus began to slowly move within her. “Am I hurting you?” “No…” Caesonia assured him quickly before sighing in pleasure, rolling her hips to meet his.
In moments, the two of them were moaning with ecstasy while they rode each other. With her legs locked around his waist to pull him deeper inside, Caesonia screamed his name as if it were the only word she knew. And Commodus accelerated his thrusts until the two of them reached their orgasm. He smeared his cum all over her slit and her inner thighs, grunting in satisfaction. 
Feeling chills down her spine, Caesonia ran her fingers through Commodus’s hair and shoulders as he peppered her chest with dulcet kisses. She enjoyed the feeling of his unblemished skin and silky hair; it helped her recover from the surge of adrenaline.
He slowly rolled off her and spoke in a hushed voice, for her ears only. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, dear Caesonia.”
“The life-giving breath in my lungs, the crimson blood coursing through my veins…the beating of my heart,” the emperor continued. “They all speak your name.” He took her hand in his and placed it against his chest, hoping that she would find even an ounce of truth within his honeyed words.
“I think I can love you as well, Commodus.” She carefully draped an arm around his waist, praying that their tender exchanges of love would not be gone with the sunrise. That his affections for her were true, and not part of a scheme to toy with her fragile state. Or that she wasn’t part of some lust-driven game to invite her into his bed and then dispose of her in the morning. 
Interrupting her line of thought, Commodus whispered to Caesonia that she was trembling. Shaking her head in response, she lied to him that she was merely cold. 
“Sleep with me, my beauty,” he brought her closer in his arms, relishing the warmth of his skin against hers. Nuzzling into his neck, Caesonia lulled herself into slumber by idly tracing patterns on his shoulder. Right now, veiled by the protection of Nyx - the Goddess of the Night - they were only two people who’d given themselves to each other in complete surrender. Nothing more, and nothing less.
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smoakmonster · 4 years
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G is for Gadgets and Gimmicks {3/3}
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A/N:‌‌ ‌Well‌ ‌folks,‌ ‌the‌ ‌conclusion‌ ‌to‌ ‌my‌ ‌little‌ ‌bookstore‌ ‌AU‌ ‌is‌ ‌finally‌ ‌here!!‌ ‌Sorry‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌extreme‌ ‌delay‌ ‌in‌ ‌finishing‌ ‌out‌ ‌this‌ ‌series.‌ ‌I‌ ‌appreciate‌ ‌all‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌sweet‌ ‌responses‌ ‌to‌ ‌this‌ ‌fic.‌ ‌There’s‌ ‌just‌ ‌something‌ ‌so‌ ‌precious‌ ‌about‌ ‌fluffy‌ ‌Olicity,‌ ‌isn’t‌ ‌there?‌ ‌I‌ ‌hope‌ ‌you‌ ‌enjoy‌ ‌the‌ ‌wrap-up!‌ ‌Thank‌ ‌you‌ ‌again‌ ‌for‌ ‌reading!‌ 
‌Special‌ ‌thanks‌ ‌to:‌ ‌‌pleasantfanandstudent‌ ‌for‌ ‌this‌ ‌adorable‌ ‌cover‌ ‌art!‌ ‌
(Part‌ ‌1)‌ ‌(Part‌ ‌2)‌ ‌(Read‌ ‌on‌ ‌AO3)‌
***
com∙pro∙mise (v.)
3. to cause to become vulnerable or function less effectively
***
“Hey, the QR code on the door isn’t working, so do I still get the coupon?”
Oliver glances up from meticulously arranging rows of his latest mini-soufflé experiment to find a gangly teenage boy (probably a college freshman) watching him with expectation and just a hint of entitlement. 
He frowns, stifling a sigh. “The what?”
This has been happening a lot lately. Interruptions. Deep down, Oliver knows that any form of interruption is a good interruption, that droves of customers, albeit annoying ones, do not detract from his work, but rather are the purpose of it. Strangers mean business. They mean another day where he gets to make payroll and keep his archaic practice of second-hand bookselling from dying out. 
He’s not sure when or why or how his antiquated cardboard box of a business managed to draw this sudden influx of cantankerous college kids buried in cancer-causing gadgets, but he has his suspicions. Perhaps it has something to do with this QR...something? While Oliver may not understand ninety-percent of the latest digital discourse, he does know what a coupon is. And he’s pretty sure he would remember issuing said coupon. 
As though the fringes of his very thoughts have pulled her forth by a string, the oh-so-familiar staccato of heels on old wood flooring tears Oliver’s attention.
“I’ve got this,” Felicity says brightly, with a brief hand on his arm. She inserts herself into the conversation with ease, brushing past Oliver to smooth things over with the impatient customer. 
Her touch is so quick that for a second he thinks he might have imagined it. Only the warm buzzing just below the surface of skin is proof that it was real. In truth, her touch has become a more regular occurrence. This marks at least Number 10. Not that he’s keeping track. Not that his body even remembers. Every reaction is like the first time.
Simple, innocent little touches that cause his mind to stray to dangerous places. She probably has no idea the effect she has on him. 
Felicity suddenly peeks his way and shoots him a quick wink. Or more like her attempt a wink. The squinty-eyed delayed blink is so endearingly Felicity that Oliver has never had the desire to correct her. 
So maybe she has some idea.
Oliver shakes his head with a soft smile. He’s not sure when this happened, either, but somewhere along the way Felicity and he stopped exchanging the usual social greetings and formal pleasantries. Now, she just barges into his store with as much zeal and belonging as Thea. 
The conversion taking place directly in front of him quickly devolves into Domain Lookup and Cloud Networking, and a mere five sentences in Oliver finds himself on the periphery. Feeling inept and oddly foolish, as he so often does in the presence of Felicity Smoak, and yet also a bit bereft that this kid can keep up with her whirlwind trail of thoughts and he cannot, Oliver decides to venture into the nonfiction recesses of the store. The only safe haven he has left apparently. 
Oliver finds himself gravitating towards the cramped little nook nestled alongside the brick fireplace that’s been inoperable since Plymouth Rock (Thea’s words, not his). Last year on a whim, Oliver tried cleaning out the old fireplace and ended up drowning himself and the entire back of the store in soot. He spent days washing soot out his hair. Thea got a real kick out of that, dubbing the incident Gray Day.
Even now, it is not uncommon for the occasional customer to find a book sprinkled with the stuff and mistake it for dust. 
The conversation up front grows muffled, lending a calm stillness to this part of the store. Hardly anyone ever ventures back here, partly because the aisles are more narrow and the lighting is poor, and partly because according to Rene it smells like a murder happened here. As if the kid knows what a murder smells like. 
Personally, Oliver kind of likes the pine and leather aroma. It reminds him of simpler times, when Dad and he would go camping in the woods every summer. Oliver chuckles, remembering what a poor sport he could be and how patiently Dad taught him how to start a fire and set up a tent. He’d give anything to get more days like that with his father. More days at all, really.
What would it be like to get away like that again? Even just for a weekend? To go somewhere off-grid, no cell reception, no emails, no internet or WiFi or QR Codes or...
A flash of yellow binding catches his eye, and Oliver spots a book haphazardly stuffed on the third shelf. Carefully, he yanks the book out and reads the cover. Beginning Programming for Dummies. 
A huff escapes him. It seems he can’t get away fast enough. 
Curiosity getting the better of him, Oliver flips through the book, hopelessly searching, but not really wanting anything to stick. Maybe something in here will remind him of Felicity. Maybe if he can find even one word embedded in all these hieroglyphics, he’ll be able to make more sense of her world and actually be able to communicate with her about the things that are important to her. 
But with every turn of the page, every heading and diagram just serves to confuse him all the more. With a frustrated groan, Oliver slams the book shut and attempts to shove it back into its tight crevice; at this point, he couldn’t care less if the book’s misshelved. 
“Hey, what did that book ever do to you?”
Oliver stills. Her voice both jars and soothes him. 
Feeling strangely guilty, he turns around but has trouble meeting her gaze, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as though he’s been caught cutting up in Mrs. Hannoven’s fourth grade class again. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 
Felicity tips her head, wearing that adorably confused pout of hers. “I’m not sure I’m the one who needs you to apologize.” 
“Oh. Um…” Does she seriously want him to apologize to a book?
“What I mean is…” She takes several steps closer to him and has the decency of a saint to wait until he’s looking her in the eye before she continues. “Oliver, I’m sorry.”
“What?” What on earth could she possibly have to be sorry for? 
“I shouldn’t have pushed for the QR codes. I knew it was too soon, but I just got so excited after all of my contacts agreed to help sponsor your website. And then, during a webinar last Thursday there was this study that said QR codes can help increase foot traffic by upwards of 30%. And I thought, ‘Hey, that seems like it could work for my friend Oliver’—I hope it’s not too presumptuous that I called you my friend. We are friends, right? Of course we’re friends, what else would we be? It’s not like we’re exactly colleagues or anything—”
“Felicity.” He rests his hands on her shoulders, effectively halting her ramble, a tried and true tact. And if she happens to shift a bit closer to him as a result, well, who is he to stop her?
He likes this about them. That in this one, predictable way he can give her the same sense of quiet security she gives him.  
“Yes, we are friends,” he says, giving her a slight smile, the finality of the word friends sinking into his gut. After all, it’s like she said. What else could they be? She is so many leagues out of his league. He's t-ball, and she's the Seattle Mariners. He doesn’t even own a digital watch, much less a smart watch. What could she possibly want with a guy like him?
Clearing his throat, Oliver moves on, “And I don’t know if I’ve said this to you yet, but...thank you. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done to help me out here.”
“Really?” That tentative, searching look makes him want to pull her close and wrap her up in his arms. She only wears that look when she’s seeking approval. She wears it a lot around him. Though why she’s still aching for his approval is beyond him. She’s had his approval and more since that first rainy Sunday. 
“Yeah. Although I do have to ask…”
Felicity raises her eyebrows. 
“When did I start offering coupons?”
“Oh. Um...since last week?”
“Uh-huh,” he nods, not wanting to cave just yet but secretly pleased. It’s a smart ploy, even if it was never part of his original plan. So much of their relationship and business schemes are way outside the bounds of his original plans. And he’s a better person for it. 
Looking a little too pleased with herself, Felicity reaches into her pocket, pulls out a slip of memo pad paper, and hands it to him.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a list of all the computer science books you need to stock up on before the Starling University summer quarter starts up. There’s an Advanced Algorithms course that’s only offered once a year, and I have it on good authority that the college bookstore never carries enough textbooks. And let’s be honest, your computer science section is lacking. Pretty much all of your STEM material, actually.”
Oliver huffs a laugh. “What are you, my sales rep?”
“I could be.” She gives him a knowing look, telling him he can either waste time arguing with her about this or just accept the inevitable. 
And after altering all the basic mechanics of his store, what are a few additional books really going to do? 
“In the meantime, let’s see this little guy back to his proper home.” Felicity proceeds to extricate his paperback nemesis and saunter further down the narrow aisle, looking for the right Dewey Decimal destination. 
“I also think we should advertise at the grad school,” she calls over her shoulder.
“We?” he replies, following her down the aisle.
“Yeah, bring in some study groups. Do you know there is a perfectly good History and English Literature study hall that meets at the Starbucks around the corner, when they could be meeting here?”
“No. No. I don’t do study groups.” He’s caved on a lot of things, but there has to be a line somewhere. And so help him, if this is the hill he has to die on to preserve even one ounce of dignity, then so be it. 
“Since when?”
“Since always. Felicity, they’re a bunch of toddlers who leave scone crumbs all over the floor and never actually buy any books.”
Felicity just chuckles at him, and if he were in a better mood he might actually be able to enjoy the sweet sound. “Oliver, stop being such a grumpy old man.” 
“No, Felicity, I think—”
She’s already moving up the ladder before he can stop her. The rickety, unstable pile of firewood that technically qualifies as a ladder he’s been harassing Rene about pitching for months. Honestly, he’d all but forgotten it was still tucked away back here. 
While she makes her way up the rungs, Oliver latches onto the base, holding the ladder firmly in place. With an excruciating amount of restraint that he barely even knew he had in him, Oliver watches her heels lift up and settle on each rung, all the while discreetly avoiding a glance at her pencil skirt. Not even a peek.
The ladder shakes as Felicity engages in a wrestling match with the top shelf. “It. Won’t. Go. In,” she says through gritted teeth. Finally, on the third push, Felicity lets out a strong exhale of relief. After wiping her hands, she makes her descent. 
Like a hawk following its prey, Oliver keeps his gaze glued to her feet. Even so, he’s still not quite prepared when one of those black t-straps slips, throwing her off balance and tumbling straight into his arms. 
“Oliver!”
He catches her easily, pulling her soft frame snuggly against him. Felicity wastes no time in wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Hey, I gotcha. I gotcha.” 
Her head plops against his shoulder, her warm, rapid breaths tickling his neck. He tightens his own grip around her back and under her knees, as if to reassure himself that she’s alright. 
“You okay?” he finally asks.
Her only answer is to press her cheek more deeply into his shirt, her soft hair nuzzling against his jaw. He catches a faint whiff of her strawberry shortcake shampoo.  
“My hero,” she breathes without a trace of humor. 
I’m no hero, he wants to say. It’s his gut reaction any time a single mom commends him for his “Cool Books” section that finally got her teenage son to try a book of his own accord. As though selling books can compare with saving lives every day. His greatest risk comes in the form of avoiding papercuts. And rescuing toppling patrons apparently. 
Selfishly, he’s currently enjoying the feel of Felicity in his arms a little too much to be considered a hero. Can she feel his own racing heartbeat beneath her ear? 
He clears his throat but fails to put any real distance between them without releasing her. He’s not ready for that just yet. He’ll prolong the sweet agony for as long as physically possible. 
“Well, this is a bit compromising,” he admits. 
“Compromising?” She snickers, lifting her head, a spark of mirth shining behind her eyes that wasn’t there before. “What are you, a Jane Austen character?”
“Blame Thea. She made me read them. It was in our original founders’ agreement. I have the contract to prove it.”
If you’re going to own a bookstore, Ollie, then you have to know who Mr. Darcy is. It’s a requirement. Plus, it’s catnip for women. Nothing gets girls more excited than if you acknowledge the perfection of Jane Austen protagonists.
That knowledge has never served him until this moment. Until Felicity.
He still hasn’t liberated her, and she seems in no hurry to be free of him. His ego far too eagerly takes note of that. 
“Are you making an actual joke, Mr. Queen?” Her smile is contagious. “You know, if this were a novel, this would be the part where we would um…” She flushes, her gaze suddenly faltering to his mouth. 
His heart jumps to his throat, pounding with misguided hope. While he’s not an avid reader, despite his self-appointed line of work, he can read between the lines now. And he knows Felicity well enough to know that she only ever blushes over accidental innuendos.
She can’t really mean it. Can she?
“Where what?” he asks gruffly, not trusting himself to crave more than she is ready to give him, yet aching for a way to turn fiction into a reality, to give Felicity Smoak her happy ending. And maybe find his own in the process. 
She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t correct her misstep. She just watches him with a strange and quiet expectancy. 
Oliver gently shifts his hold, bringing her a bit closer, leaning down to meet her. The tip of his nose brushes against hers, and when she lingers there with him, it’s all the invitation he needs…
“Hey, boss, we got a spill behind the counter!”
Felicity starts in his arms, and Oliver very nearly groans. Of all the times for Rene to interrupt him. The spill is probably minor. How many times does he need to remind his employees that if you make a mess, you should just clean it up yourself?
“Ollie?” calls Thea. Her voice comes from far too nearby for his comfort. It must be a real pickle if Rene’s managed to rope his sister into the ordeal. 
Reluctantly, Oliver loosens his grip on Felicity, and she slides right out of his arms with a graceful plop, returning their difference in height to its usual status. The top of her head aligning with the level of his heart. 
“I uh…” His entire vocabulary seems to have vacated his brain at present, leaving him feeling ten times more abashed than he was ten minutes ago. 
Felicity tucks a golden strand behind her ear, still dodging his regard with robust persistence. “Yeah, you should go...take care of that…”
He nods once, not that she notices. As he slowly turns to walk away, she stops him with a simple question. 
“Same time tomorrow?”
He really should not put much stock in the hope her voice carries. But he can’t seem to stifle the grin spreading over his face when he glances back over his shoulder. “Same time tomorrow.”
***
Thea pulls out a small chalkboard from under the counter, erases the number ‘1’ with her fist, and then writes a ‘2’ in its place. The sign now reads “12 Days Since Last Attempt To Date.”
Scowling, Oliver is almost too afraid to ask. “Thea...what is that?”
His sprite of a sister proudly places a hand on her hip. “This, dear brother, is a record of the number of days since you last tried asking Felicity out on a date.”
“What?” A flicker of panic rushes through him. What does she know? She can’t know about the almost-kiss. Besides, that wasn’t twelve days ago. Again, not that he’s keeping track. He opts for being as evasive as possible. “And when was the last time I supposedly did this?”
“That day you bought Big Belly Burger for the entire staff as a thank you for staying late to reorganize the science section. You gave Felicity the burger with extra pickles that mysteriously ended up in the bag—even though, last I checked, she does not work here.”
She gives him that pointed look, the one she usually wears when she’s guarding a straight. They really need to have a discussion about the merits of a refined poker face. 
“That wasn’t a date, Speedy.”
“Hence the word attempt.”
Oliver shakes his head, returning his focus to the monotonous task of counting the till. Where was he again? Oh yeah, the fives. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five…
Once he’s got that row tallied, he finally tells Thea, “Felicity and I...we’re just friends.” The words burn his throat. Felicity might think of him as nothing more than a chum, but after that near-kiss nestled behind the dusty stacks, Oliver has ceased lying to himself about his feelings, resigned to this new, unrequited reality. 
“Sure.” He can feel her eye roll. “Friends who just happen to spend all of their free time together and buy each other beverages and have inside jokes—”
His head snaps up. “We don’t have any inside jokes.”
“Really? Then how do you explain this?” Thea holds up the cassette player tape dispenser Felicity got him as a gag gift. He still has no idea where she stumbled upon the trinket. Using her internet prowess no doubt. 
Oliver snatches it out of Thea’s hands while purposefully searching for anything in need of repair, as if to justify its very existence. “Our old tape dispenser broke.” 
“Uh-huh. And what about that little emoji keychain you bought her? The one with the glasses on it?”
Oliver shrugs. “It just...reminded me of her, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.”
Thea is clearly ready to keep arguing, but Rene wanders over with a pastry order for one of the offices across the street. For once in his life, Oliver is grateful for Rene’s keen ability to interfere with his private conversations and begins boxing up the order. His heart does a strange flip when he recognizes the usual list. 
Unfortunately, Thea remains undeterred. “Hey, Felicity works there, right? I’m sure you could swing by for a quick visit.”
“Thea.”
“Don’t ‘Thea’ me. This is a good idea! Just tell her you were in the building and wanted to see if she’s available to go out to dinner this weekend. Easy.” 
“I work on the weekends. You know that.”
“And you could schedule yourself some time off once in a while. You are the boss. Plus, you’ve built this place so that even Rene can practically run it with his eyes closed.”
Both Rene and Oliver shoot her a look. 
“Alright, I said practically.”
Rene grunts his agreement, stuffing the to-go box to the brim with chocolate chip muffins. “You know, she’s got a point. You could think of this delivery as a trial run. You bring the order across the street, while Thea and I monitor the store. If all goes well, then you might feel comfortable enough to take a more extended break in the future.” 
“You’re just trying to spend more alone time with my sister, aren’t you?”
Rene smiles, guilty as charged. “There’s no reason why we can’t both be winners here.”
Oliver sighs. “Thea?”
Thea chuckles, crossing her arms. “Don���t worry, Ollie, I can handle him.”
Still he hesitates, running his thumb back and forth over the box, the box he’s supposed to bring to her workplace. He has so much more riding on this than a mismanaged store in his absence.
“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Do not burn down the store while I’m gone.”
***
“Ms. Smoak?”
“One second, Curtis. This alphanumeric algorithm isn’t going to crack itself.” Huddled in front of the monitor and nibbling on the remnants of a Twizzler, Felicity has been doing the digital tango for the last hour. 
“Well, I hope you get cracking in the next ten minutes, because Coffee and Coding is about to start.” 
“We have Coffee and Coding on Wednesdays,” she dismisses without tearing her gaze from the screen. 
“It is Wednesday,” says Curtis.
Felicity darts a glance at her IT Director, who just lifts his eyebrows in confirmation. Flustered, she pushes up her glasses. “But who ordered the pastries?”
“I did,” Curtis admits. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget to call your favorite little coffee shop around the corner. Or across the street in this case. Can you believe they still don’t have online ordering?”
A pang of disappointment flutters through her. While it’s not much, Felicity has come to treasure her little Wednesday morning ritual, an easy excuse in her routine to spend more time with Oliver. 
Still, it’s not like they don’t see each other an ample amount of time during the week anyway. Though after The Incident a few days ago, things between them have been different, more uncertain than usual. He hasn’t been avoiding her exactly; he just seems a bit...distant. Like he’s carrying a secret he doesn’t know how to share yet. Takes one to know one. The mystery has been driving her crazy. 
She’s also been racking her brain for the perfect scenario to recreate that heated moment they shared after her Humpty Dumpty debacle. But the trouble is...as soon as she hints at the depth of her feelings, she’s going to have to tell him everything. 
Hey Oliver, so you know how you assumed that I was an Executive Assistant, and I never corrected you? Well, the thing is I’m actually more like the CEO of a product-pushing conglomerate that is slowly encroaching on everything you know and love. Do you want to go out sometime?
Ugh. A stealthy flirter she is not.
So maybe today’s mishap is for the best. A chance for her to rally some gumption and figure out how to phrase her affections while still salvaging their fledgling friendship. 
The workshop will likely provide plenty of opportunity to strategize. Denise tends to drone on and on about the benefits of heapsort every time it’s her turn to talk, so the redundant lecture will afford Felicity added time to do some real romantic brainstorming. 
Sufficiently mollified, Felicity pops up out of her chair and strolls towards the conference room. 
“The food just arrived,” says Jerry as soon as she’s outside her office. 
She stumbles to a halt, blinking at her executive assistant. He says it so casually, as though her entire, perfectly orchestrated little enterprise isn’t coming crumbling down around her by one bakery blunder. 
“What? Now? Here?” She’s pretty sure she’s having a stroke. Although her ability to remain upright negates that possibility. But what good is logic at a time like this? 
Of all the truth-telling scenarios she had running through her head, this was not one of them.  
This is why she never asked for delivery! Why she personally has placed and picked up every order.
Okay, no need to panic. This is no different than any of the other work-related conflicts she has resolved in the past. Of course, those were mostly software issues, but surely the skills are transferable. She’ll just have to insist that Rene not breathe a word of this to Oliver until she has a chance to talk to him later. This afternoon, in fact. She can come up with an adequate confession by then. 
That cursory idea gets zapped the moment she turns the corner and finds the apropos man of the hour waiting in the hallway. Oh frack. 
Every blessed thought evaporates straight out of her skull. Only one person on the planet has this effect on her. 
As though it’s been days and not mere hours since she’s seen him last, hungrily her eyes feast on every part of him, from his golden-brown hair with little flecks of gray that he likes to pretend aren’t there, to those broad shoulders and sturdy arms beneath that favored blue henley. She remembers far too well what it’s like being wrapped up in those arms, all snug and safe and wonderful.
Then she starts to catalog his overall uneasy demeanor, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders rigid with discomfort. 
Guilt pricks her heart. He looks a little lost. 
She tries to observe her office through his eyes. Surrounded by glass walls, open and exposed. Screens scrolling with tech lingo. Not a single paper product in sight or dusty nook to duck behind. Everything is quite literally the opposite of his usual environment. And it has never been more apparent how contrary their lives are. 
All this time, she’s been invading his world and never once has he stepped into hers. Because she wouldn’t invite him. Not until she was ready. She’s driven them to this precipice. Her little lie is the grain of sand slowly corrupting the motherboard, eroding their communication from the inside out. Some friend she is. 
And yet, him braving the unknown and everything he opposes just to come and see her has to mean something, right? 
“Should we wait for you?” asks Curtis.
Felicity shakes her head, keeping her focus on Oliver. “I’m not going to make the meeting.”
“Well in that case, can I have your muffin? Because you know I’ve been working out in the mornings, and my tummy is a rumblin’—”
“Curtis!”
“Okay. Okay.”
Footsteps retreat into the conference room, until at last the door closes, encasing them in peaceful silence. 
Swallowing, Felicity hedges closer to him, the clank of her heels echoing down the long hallway. “Hi,” she says when she’s standing just a foot away from him.
“Hi.” He’s looking at her in that soft, affable way of his, making her heart short-circuit. 
She has a masters degree in cyber security, and she’s taken many a profit-hungry board member to task, so why can’t she seem to come up with a better conversation starter than ‘hi’ ?
But Oliver, her sweet friend, saves her from her own awkward web of absurdity. “So...” he begins, nodding to the wall in between the elevators. The wall covered in bold, betraying letters Smoak Technologies. 
Oh crap on a cracker. He knows. Already. Duh, Felicity, he walked into your building, you know this. The man can read. What did you expect? 
Felicity slams her eyes shut and blurts, “I can explain.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I know it was wrong. And I hope you know that I would never want to take advantage of your friendship, and that my lying to you has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I was afraid that if you knew the truth that I would lose you—”
“Felicity, hey.” Oliver’s hands, solid and steady, grip her shoulders. She has no right to draw from his comforting warmth. “You’re not going to lose me.”
She licks her lips, daring to meet his gaze again. She’s startled to find those bright blue eyes looking back at her full of sympathy, absent of judgment. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve broken every cardinal rule in the friendship book.”
His face softens. “I don’t care that you lied to me. I don’t. I care...that somehow I made you feel like you had to.” He sighs, his voice deepening to a near whisper. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Felicity fights a wince and loses. “Because I...I kind of liked not being a CEO for a few minutes a day? It was nice. Freeing. And I didn’t know how you would react to the fact that basically my entire livelihood stands for everything you hate—”
“I never said I hated it.”
Felicity tilts her head playfully. “No, you just loathe the mere suggestion of technological advancement.”  
Oliver chuckles. “Fair enough.”
“So you’re not mad?” 
As he shakes his head, relief and elation spill through her. 
Not for the first time, Felicity is grateful that her charming literary companion is truly a good person. And not just the kind of good where he’s friendly toward impatient customers or gracious with incompetent employees—although, he is that, too. But his integrity runs so much deeper; it’s the core of who he is. Modest and generous. Forgiving to a fault. 
Oliver fundamentally embodies all that her corporate associates do not. Is it any wonder she was so drawn to him from the very beginning? 
She may have ruined her chances for anything more than friendship to develop between them, but as long as he remains in her life, she’ll be happy. She can settle for cordial camaraderie. Besides, it won’t feel like settling with him. Not really. Not completely. At least, she’ll convince herself of that sooner or later. 
Oliver withdraws his hands, leaving an alarming coolness tingling on her arms. Instantly she misses his touch. 
She watches in puzzled silence as Oliver shifts his weight, clears his throat, and suddenly evades her look. He’s nervous, she realizes. How did she not notice sooner?
Because you’ve been a little too preoccupied with yourself, Felicity, that’s how. 
“Listen, Felicity…I came by because I was in the neighborhood. But I guess I’m always in the neighborhood. You don’t need to be told that.” 
Felicity bites her bottom lip to hold back a smile. He’s awfully cute when he’s flustered.
“I know I’m just an obsolete bookstore owner, with no degree, and you…” He glances around the hallway, as though the point he’s trying to make is engraved on the walls somewhere. 
“And I what?” she prompts, a sudden burst of panic flaring in her chest, more terrified than anything that he’s never going to finish that sentence.
Oliver studies the screens for a long time, his gaze finally coming to rest back on her, and what she sees there makes her want to hold on to him and never let go. “You’re going to change the world,” he says. “You’ve already changed mine. For the better, I might add. But, I don’t know, maybe our worlds are just too different.”
“But I don’t care about the differences, and I thought you didn’t either.”
“I don’t!”
Everyone in the conference room can probably hear their conversation by now, but that is a low priority issue. All she cares about is Oliver. 
“Okay, so then what are we arguing about?”
“Felicity…you should be with someone who deserves you, someone who won’t hold you back.”
“That’s what you came up here to tell me? Oliver, what I deserve is up to me.” 
He dodges her look again, and she can feel him retreating, feel the invisible barrier he’s erected between them. 
Not one to forfeit so easily, Felicity calmly sidles up to him and lays a bold hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Please, Oliver,” she whispers. “Ask me what you really came here for. Whatever it is, I’ll say yes.”
“Promise?” 
Her inability to read his face scares her more than anything. “Promise.”
He sighs, and an anxiously long time passes before he says, “Felicity, would you like to go camping?”
She starts. “What? You want to drag me out into the woods with your sister—”
“Thea will not be there.” 
“Oh.” Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Felicity processes this information before it dawns on her. “Oh.”
Oliver nods faintly, as though he can hear the flurry of questions her heart is suddenly screaming. 
“Are you asking me out on a date? Like an actual date? Like a date...date?”
“I mean, the implication with me standing here…” He bobs his head around, like he can’t really decide whether to confirm or deny that. She’s really put the poor guy through the ringer today. 
“Or we could go hiking,” he suggests with a shrug. 
“Hiking?”
“Yeah, there’s a great trail about an hour north of the city. My dad and I used to go there all the time. There are waterfalls and plenty of wildlife.  I should warn you, though, that it’s near impossible to send or receive phone calls in our spot.” 
He wants to take her to his special haunt? Her heart twists with bittersweet excitement. She deceives him, and he rewards her by sharing yet another coveted piece of his history. 
How can this man think he’s not worthy of her? If anything, their situation is exactly reversed. What are gadgets and gizmos compared to goodwill and grandeur? 
With more boldness than she thought herself capable of, Felicity meticulously wraps her arms around Oliver’s waist, leaning her head way back to keep eye contact with him. “Well, Mr. Queen, that sounds perfect. So...am I forgiven?” she whispers, pinching her lips together.
His own lips twitch as he follows her movements and pulls her close. “Always.” 
***
“I like you like this,” Felicity tells him, following his lead down the winding, rocky trail, her hand snuggly wrapped around his. 
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, sort of Man Versus Wild.”
He laughs, a loud, rich melody that vibrates through the core of her being. 
She’ll admit she was curious to see what side of Oliver the great outdoors would bring forth, and reality did not disappoint. Out here, away from the chaotic noise and hustle and bustle, he seems so...free. Happy. Like he’s really alive for the first time. And she feels privileged that she’s the one he chose to let so close to him.
The perks of the great outdoors have surprised her, too. Not once has she missed the ding of her cell phone. 
They stop for a break on a small cliff ridge (small according to Oliver, anyway) overlooking a waterfall and a trickling stream. The views today have been glorious. All of the views, she thinks, sneaking a peek at the man beside her. 
Though he doesn’t turn, he squeezes her hand once, and there’s a slight flicker at the corner of his lips, acknowledging that he can feel her ogling him unabashedly. She gets to do that kind of thing now, though. 
“I’m thinking of closing the bookstore,” he admits, causing her to trip over a branch in shock. His grip steadies her, and then he motions towards a large rock. Once they’re sitting beside each other, he continues. “I’ll turn the business into a full-time bakery and cafe. It’s something I probably should’ve done a long time ago. You were right.” He glances her way, wearing a reluctant half-smile. 
Reeling, all Felicity can say is, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You were right about the QR codes, too.” He leans in conspiratorially. “Our weekly customer traffic is up 25%, and the sales reflect that the majority of those purchases are from the coffeeshop. Just seems like the smartest decision.”
“But Oliver, don’t you love the bookshop side of things? Helping people find their next go-to read?” 
He shrugs. “Sure. But I love staying in business more.”
Felicity doesn’t understand it, but the thought of never smelling second-hand pages or stumbling over disarrayed book stacks sends a pang of longing through her. “Well, it sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have,” he confirms. 
“But will it make you happy?”
He hesitates. “It’ll give me some stability to put Thea through college. That’ll make me happy.”
He’s so selfless, it breaks her heart a little every time she beholds that soft underbelly of his gentle nature. She wonders what other secret dreams he’s sacrificed over the years to provide for his sister and his employees. And maybe even for her. If she gets her wish, she plans to return the favor and help make his tucked-away dreams come true. First she has to discover what they are.
Shuffling closer, Felicity rests her head on his shoulder. “You know, I hate to break this to you, but bakeries are just as liable to collapse as bookstores. You can never fully predict the market, even in the most stable of economies.”
“I need information about what I don’t know,” he says in her ear. 
She perks up. “What about a compromise?”
“Compromise?”
“Yeah, it’s where two parties agree on a mutually desirable outcome.”
He chuckles, the hearty sound warming her down to her toes. “I know what a compromise is, Felicity. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that I have converted the entire IT department over to the ways of Verdant-roasted coffee. We could make you the official sponsor of our weekly Coffee and Coding. Think of all the free advertising that will bring.”
“I don’t want any handouts, Felicity.”
“It’s not a handout if it’s good business,” she argues, pleased to see him giving it some genuine consideration. After a long time of companionable silence and sharing a water bottle, she says, “And if all else fails, there’s always the kindle route.”
She giggles at the dismissive look he shoots her before growing serious again. “Don’t give up, Oliver. Your little bookstore...it’s changed my life. You opened up my heart to ideas and worlds that I didn’t even know were possible.”
Pulse hammering in her throat, she wonders if he catches her accidental revelation, that the depth of her urgency has far less to do with treasured paperbacks than it does her utter dependency on him. 
“A compromise. It could work.” He nods to himself. “Speaking of…” He slips his hand into his back pocket. 
“What are you doing?”
Oliver pulls out a phone. A shiny, non-retrograde phone. 
Felicity gasps. “Since when do you have a smartphone?”
“Thea got it for me after she spilt a latte on my old phone. I’m choosing to believe it was an accident.”
“That is very sensible of you.”
“We could take a photo,” he suggests.
“You mean with the front-facing camera? That, my friend, is called a Selfie.”
He scowls. “I don’t think I’m ready to say that word. Baby steps.” After an arduously humorous struggle, with Felicity patiently helping him navigate all the buttons, Oliver finally manages to snap a photo or two or twelve. 
While she’s fairly certain the majority of the photos turn out blurry, they take an unnatural amount of fun in making ridiculous faces at the camera anyway. “Okay, you have to delete that one.” She points to a photo that paints her in a particularly unattractive light. 
Oliver studies the picture fondly. “Can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Here, then let me.” 
He holds the phone out of her reach. “Oh, so you can delete all of them?”
“Not all of them, just the ones that make me look bad.”
“Felicity…” he says her name as if it explains everything. And suddenly he’s not laughing anymore, though his eyes still carry a spark of secret amusement. “Let me have this keepsake.”
Keepsake. Such an old-fashioned word from this unconventional man. If Oliver were a book, he would be just like those scuffed up, intimidating volumes he’s always trying to convince novice readers to sample. Judged for his strange and rough exterior, yet guarding a mysterious sweetness and—more than he will admit—gooey epicenter. You just have to crack the spine and ruffle a few pages to get there. 
“Felicity…” Just the way he says her name makes her feel like she could do anything so long as he’s with her. 
He leans in just enough to let her know his intent, but stops halfway, leaving the final choice to her. What a gentleman he is. And like all the great heroines, Felicity doesn’t let him do all the work. She meets his kiss eagerly, pouring out in little touches what they’re both unsure to say out loud at this early stage.
But she knows it. Deep down in her bones, she knows she loves him. And she can feel his love in the way he responds. 
What a risk she’s taken, giving her heart to the most anti-technology human on planet earth. She has a feeling the dividends will be well worth it. 
***
Tag Team: @angelalafan / @austencello / @dust2dust34 / @emeraldoliverqueen​ / @hope-for-olicity​ / @mel-loves-all​ / @memcjo​ / @releaseurinhibitions​ / @scu11y22​ / @smoakqueenz​
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omg-baeyoung-baeran · 4 years
Text
Maybe I Should Resign: Chapter 3
For easier reading, try this link.
Jumin Han was known for being a very busy man. His interest was easiest to pique when it involved their company’s profit and reputation—excluding his hobby formulating cat-related projects. Given his position as the heir of the famous C&R International company, each day was a working day to him.
It was difficult for any business man to approach him, since his schedule was mostly filled with appointments and business trips… so imagine how odd it was for people to see the heir allot an entire day per week for something unrelated to company matters.
“Mr. Han will no longer accept business-related calls every Saturday due to a shift in schedule. Any emergency call will be forwarded to the person speaking, Jaehee Kang, his chief assistant. Again, we apologize for the sudden changes.”  With that, she hung up the phone and sighed.
Things had been hectic as usual, but she was not happy with the additional task. If her boss was not accepting anything concerning the company on Saturdays, that meant there would be an extra load on her shoulders.
 “Assistant Kang,” the last voice she wanted to hear for the day called from behind her.
She turned to look at him and gave a slight nod. “Yes, Mr. Han?” she acknowledged. The words had not even left his lips, and she can already feel the psychological stress his words were gonna cause her.
“Ah,” he spoke while she mentally embraced what was about to come.
There was silence for a few seconds as he continued tapping on his phone
“Make sure to only accept calls coming from the emergency line. Unless a call is made from that line, you will be free on Saturdays.”
“Understood,” she answered abruptly, her focus immediately going back to the computer on her table when her boss turned to leave. Slowly, her exhausted mind processed the information she heard. 
Wait, I thought I heard “free” for a second.
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“Eh?” She thought she heard something crack when her head forcefully snapped to look at the door behind her. It was like her head was the only part that understood the situation while her body remained facing the workload before her.
Perhaps it was his imagination, but Jumin thought he heard a noblewoman’s laugh from the other side of the door he just exited.
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Dark eyes squinted at the sound. 
Strange….
Well, he had no time to delve deeper into it. He had a day to prepare for, and he promised a certain person he would get a contract  of agreement signed within the afternoon. “Let’s get this over with.”
0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0
The days quickly passed by, she noticed.
“I guess time really flies when you’re having a good day.”
Ever since the incident, her neighbours began to leave them alone. Most were even sucking up in hopes to appeal to the man they thought was her suitor. It astonished her how people can quickly turn into a new leaf the moment they realize they might need the person they used to abuse. 
“Sister, will the fabulous man be visiting our home again?” Riri asked, her hands diving into the bag of chips she bought using the money she gained from doing errands. 
Hannah pondered, her gaze glued on the old, wooden ceiling. There were small cracks all over them, but their ceiling and walls were much more sturdy than the floor they walked on. It may look worn, still… she was happy to have a home.
“I don’t think so. I think we’ll only meet such a person once. It’s even a miracle he was here in the first place.” 
“What do you think was he doing here ? Do you think he’s a politician who wanted to pretend he’s helping people to get votes?”
“What? How do you even know that? And no, I don’t think so. He would have dressed poorly to convince people he can empathize.”
Hannah continued with her cooking while Riri returned to her bag of chips. It was certainly peaceful; it was peaceful before Sana ran into the room, flailing her arms around happily and squealing.
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“How was your date, Big Sis? We never got to ask!”
Hannah giggled at the youngest’s antics. 
“It’s not a date, Sana, and it went surprisingly fine to be honest. I was expecting him to make a bit of fuss, since most rich people don’t like the market.”
“Do you want to see him again?”
Hannah contemplated Sana’s question. Remembering the time they spent together, she can clearly recall having a good laugh with the man during their wayfaring. However, would they even meet again?
Where does he even live? Does he work near their place?
“I don’t mind, I guess. Though! Next time, I won’t forget to ask his name.”
It seemed like fate got rid of her troubles of doing just that.
It was an early Saturday morning when she finally embraced the fact that she had the mental capacity of a guinea pig. She was standing in front of the counter where her childhood friend was working as the barista, hoping to get a job as a waitress or a dishwasher in the small yet packed cafe. Less customers usually came in the morning, so the atmosphere and the scent of brewed coffee gave her a sense of serenity.
“So you’re saying… you left your job because you’ve been sending love letters to the wrong person?”
“No, no, I resigned before I got a bad performance evaluation. I don’t want my mistake to affect my job application once I switch work.”
Her friend stared at her incredulously. “What?” she exclaimed, “Were you not getting paid enough for your job? Why were you planning to switch jobs?”
Hannah shook her head, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “My goodness… every time I talk about this, I am reminded of how idiotic I am. Salary was great, but I felt like choking in my sweat and tears each time I went to work.”
As they were waiting for the boss to arrive, the conversation of two middle aged women caught their attention.
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“I think the CEO of C&R made the right choice in creating a cemetery business if they have already bought the Life Care hospital.”
Hannah’s ears perked up at the mention of her former boss.
“Agreed. Hospitals and pharmacies are necessities, but none of us can escape death. But that aside, when do you think will the heir of C&R replace his father?”
She discreetly watched the two women converse on the table near her. They were mindlessly talking about the current news written on the newspaper they were holding; and when they tossed the paper on the table, Hannah could not help locking her eyes on the cover of the newspaper.
It was a familiar face…
…it was that familiar face.
“Jennie! Quick! Hand me a newspaper!” She wildly pointed at the stack of newspapers displayed over the counter.
Jennie knit her brows but did so anyway. She calmly handed her the rolled paper whereas Hannah seized it from her grasp, and this caused her to look at her friend in an offended manner with her hand on her chest. “Okay, I demand an explanation.”
Hannah’s eyes bore a hole on the headline as she gaped at the face of the man printed on the paper.
Ju-Jumin… Han?
Like how Seven once told her to shout his name and he would come to her in 0.1 seconds, an expensive-looking car suddenly crashed against a tree just outside the coffee shop. Everyone inside gawked at the accident, but their jaws did not drop further until a classy man in a formal attire casually stepped out of the car, seeming like nothing ever happened.
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“Woah, who’s that guy?”
“I guess rich people park their cars by crashing it.”
“What a waste! That car could have bought me a good wife.”
“Are they shooting a movie? It looks so cool!”
From the huge glass windows of the place, they can see the man approaching the entrance door of the cafe, which was enough to create ruckus among the customers. Hannah squinted her eyes to get a better view of the man from the distance. He was barely visible from all the people blocking the way; yet the second she saw his hair, her body immediately made a quick turn and swooped under the table where the middle aged women sat.
They did not notice her move for they were busy observing the man that just entered the room.
He stood by the door, towering over the people who went to surround him. Many of them asked for a photo whilst some asked for an autograph, but none of them were spared a glance.
“Are you perhaps the suitor of Mei’s daughter? Hannah?” an elderly asked, effectively distracting him from his search.
He bowed politely at the older woman. “My apologies. I didn’t notice you, Ma’am.”
She waved at him dismissively and laughed, “It is fine! You are quite a tall man and I have aged terribly, so it is natural for you to not see me.”
He smiled, and Hannah was a hundred percent sure she heard dreamy sighs all over the room.
“Yes, I did come here to see Hannah. Have you seen her?”
“Ah, yes! She was just over…” she trailed off as she pointed at the empty spot where she had last seen the girl, “there?”
Jumin blinked. 
“Oh, my… I swear I saw her there just a few moments ago.”
After a few seconds of silence, a woman screamed from the table near the counter. “Ah! What is that?” She stood and stepped away from the table with her companion.
Jumin decided to ignore them and headed towards the barista. “Excuse me,” he started, “have you seen a woman with long brown hair and brown eyes? Her mother told me she came here looking for a job.” 
While they were busy chatting, Hannah took the opportunity to switch hiding spots. Unfortunately, before she could crawl out, the previous women lifted the tablecloth, revealing her hunched figure hidden under the table.
Everyone fell silent.
Black slacks and black leather shoes soon entered Hannah’s line of sight, followed by a gorgeous face that blinded the darkest part of her soul.
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Jumin kneeled on the floor, one knee touching the ground and one supporting his arm. She had never witnessed such a serious face appear so innocent and child-like. His typical aura of mystery was now replaced by a glimmer of curiosity.
“Why are you there?” he asked in a soft voice.
I feel like a terrified kitten getting coaxed to come closer to him.  “I… I-I was just,” she squeaked and patted the floor out of the blue, “checking if the floor here is sturdy.” She laughed awkwardly.
He stared at her for a moment then offered her his hand. Once she placed her hand in his, he pulled her up and gently grasped her arm to support her balance. “I was hoping we could go somewhere today.” 
Hannah’s cheeks burned red when he even crouched to brush the dust off her jeans. “Oh, thank you,” she muttered. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s alright.”
She can smell it. The scent of jealousy was so potent that she could literally see the dark atmosphere around them...
...or maybe it was from the smoke the car crash was emitting.
“I think we should get your car fixed.”
“It’s fine. My butler has ordered a new one prior to my departure. He somehow predicted this will happen.”
Okay, it’s either his butler is a psychic or he’s just a terrible driver.
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She had no idea how they ended up this way. 
Jumin sat next to her inside a cab. He was whispering to her—albeit blatantly—if they were supposed to give the driver a tip or if that would be insulting to his profession. Hannah felt like dying inside from embarrassment, because she was certain the driver can hear their supposedly inaudible conversation.
“Wait, I am not sure if this is a good idea.” She lightly nudged his elbow.
“What is not a good idea?”
“You know… hanging out with me.”
He took a glimpse at her fidgeting fingers, his face blank as he watched the passing scenery slowly change from a disorganized place to a clean environment. “So you’re aware of who I am? And next time, don’t just go with a person you just met for a day,” he stated apathetically.
“Sorry… Sir… I didn’t know until today. If I had known earlier, I wouldn’t have told those people you were my suitor—and! I wouldn’t have brought you to the market. I… it is not my intention… I mean, I don’t want to involve you in a scandal.”
She knew she was blabbering, and she did not have a clue if he was listening either. All he was doing was having his arms crossed with his gaze up ahead. This was creating a debate in her head between jumping off the car or pretending she never said anything; she was leaning on choosing the former.
“It is nice that you worry about my reputation, and I appreciate it,” he began, “but tell me... were you the one who had been attaching sticky notes on my cup of….” He turned to look at her but then paused.
He wondered what she was doing, since she was slowly and quietly opening the car door…
...while the car was moving.
“What are you doing?” he bellowed. He quickly pulled her waist and shut the door, earning them the attention of the driver.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Yes, pardon us,” he responded coolly, but his glare on the girl said otherwise.
“Sorry! I wasn’t thinking straight! I thought we were at the mall already.” Obviously, that was a lie. She badly wanted to escape her current predicament, and it was the only way she could think of.
“Be more attentive when you are traveling. You could have died.”
“Yes, Sir!
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The incident had temporarily changed the conversation. However, she knew the topic was bound to return to the unanswered question; so when it did, she could not stop herself from cringing on the inside. My goodness! I blame my parents for giving birth to me without my consent!
Okay, she was just being stupid.
“I only want to know if it was you.” He leaned on his seat and waited for her answer.
She was letting the fancy music inside the restaurant fill in the silence between them. As a straight-forward man, he never liked probing for answers; therefore, the action only made him narrow his eyes at her.
“Do you know you are suspected of theft?”
Alright, she really needed to talk.
“What?” she gasped.
“An important document has gone missing,” he continued as he scrutinized her expression, “and we are performing an investigation on all employees that left the company from the day the document was last seen till the day it was found to be missing. It is best if you cooperate, Ms. Hannah.”
“Wha—what does the notes have to do with this matter?” 
“They were borderline suspicious. Also, upon further investigation, the date the note was first received was in the same month the cameras were placed in a loop, so did you or did you not write those notes?”
“I did but I….”
I was meaning to give those to Seven, but I didn’t know he lied about being in charge of the coffee—wait a second! Camera? Loop? A secret agent gathering data inside C&R?
Puzzle pieces clicked together.
“I honestly have no idea about the document you are talking about, but I did write those… notes.” Shit, what do I say? SEVEN! As if on cue, a familiar red head entered her peripheral vision. 
With a single huge gulp from her glass of water, she swiftly stood up and excused herself.
Seven thought it was like a scene from a movie, where a lovely lady would grab a man’s shirt and lead him into a secluded place for some romance—except he was slammed too roughly against the wall.
“Hey! Ow! I’m a sadist not a masochist!” he whined. His hand went to rub the back of his sore head.
“Seven, what the heck did you do?” she demanded, her fingers tightly tangled on his jacket. “Now, C&R is suspecting me of theft—what the heck did you do?”
He thought he heard a demon growl at the end of her rant. “Wait, wait! Explain to me what—”
“I was attaching notes on one of the cups on the tray that you were supposed to be serving because I wanted to at least make you happy and—”
“Aww, you really did tha—”
“Hush! And I had been doing it for months but it turned out I was actually sending it to Jumin Han and I have been sending it on the same month you placed the camera on loop and that was the same month you entered C&R—”
“Wait! Was the cheap kitty stamp on his table from you? You gave it to him?”
“That was supposed to be for you!” Her high-pitched voice cracked from her hopeless desperation.
Seven’s scandalized gasp made a few heads exiting the restroom turn to them with cautious glances. “That thief!” he snapped, his head whipping towards the wall where Jumin’s seat would be.
Hannah sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. She looked at him with teary eyes; her lips quivered to express her anxiety. This stirred a heavy feeling inside his chest, for the least he wanted to do was make his best friend cry. 
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“Seven, pleeaase take this seriously,” she begged him.
“Okay, okay!” he whispered; distress was evident in his voice. “Don’t cry! Just!” He cupped her face and squeezed her damp cheeks together. “Shhh… don’t cry. I’ll tell you what to do.”
As promised, he gave her a plan. It was not an intricate one; in fact, it was simple enough to be realistic and easily remembered. She thought it was a perfect lie.
With a peck on her forehead, he twirled her like a princess in a royal ball then gave her back a light push. 
“Now, go!”
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I didn’t realize how huge this restaurant is. She walked with her vision focused on the black locks of Jumin’s hair from afar. It’s embarrassing but I hope it works.
“It happens to him almost everyday. I’m sure this will be believable, but expect to lose whatever friendship you developed with him. He is known to hate those kinds of people.” Seven lectured, raising one finger in the air as she eagerly nodded at him.
“Sounds fair,” she mumbled to herself before settling herself back in her seat.
Jumin gave her a look she could not fathom. “Are you well?”
“Yes, I just needed to compose myself… because you see,” she stammered as she bashfully tucked her hair behind her ear. “Being told that I’m a suspect is alarming, but I was being truthful when I said I did not take anything from the C&R. You are free to inspect me, Mr. Han.”
He remained still.
“A-And! I sent you those letters and notes, because… I was,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “I was hoping to… be… your… ro-romantic… interest.” She felt like she was choking the words out, and she could literally feel her neck disappearing from how much her head pushed back into her shoulders.
Ehmehgersh. Kill me.
She could not find the courage to meet his stare.
Why is he taking so long to speak?
Reluctantly, she lifted her face a little to check what he was doing…
...and he was peering at her.
“I didn’t—”
“Jumin.”
She was taken aback by his sudden word. “I’m sorry… what?” 
“Just call me ‘Jumin’.”
It must have been the effect of stress and paranoia, but she thought she saw a serene smile grace his lips.
However, his next words confirmed it.
“I would like to properly court you, Hannah.”
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Hope you guys liked this chapter! And have a rare gif of Juju after crashing his car
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