#but this whole place is so full of miserable people and if there is anything they need it is compassion

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

Robin will really just go around Kirkwall saying "what if i tried fixing every problem ever" huh

[m-ilkiee]

STUPID L♡VE - Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning]: dark content, no curse au, aged up Megumi (both are in their midtwenties) fem!bodied reader, heavy angst, toxic and abusive relationship, love drunk reader, jealous megumi, abandoment issues, exes to "lovers", mentions of alcohol and drug use, smut, mean dom! Megumi, sub!reader, coercion, noncon to dubcon, manhandling, choking cunnilingus, mentions of blowjobs and face fucking, squirting, use of restraint, slut-shaming, mutual pining, manipulation, implied baby trapping, gaslighting

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 5.01k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r-18+] not suitable for people aged 17 and under

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main page]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [authors note]: if you liked this, consider reblogging and commenting your thoughts, I'd love to hear them♡ this is a prelude to my megumi series "E-boys Ruined my life" so if you're interested in this, consider sticking around for a full series.

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IT was inevitable that you and Megumi were going to eventually break up.

Everyone else could see the signs as clear as the day that you two wouldn't last, that you two shouldn't have lasted, and yet this cat and mouse game you called a relationship spanned for four whole months, longer than anything he ever had before you and honestly he was shocked because it wasn't meant to last that long.

After all, he hated how clingy you were every time the two of you were together, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline, your sweet words of affirmation purring into his ears every time you settled yourself beside him. He hated that genuine smile you always had on your lips anytime you saw him, a scowl marring his pretty features whenever you entered the room, wrapping your arms around his lanky frame, your soft lips pressed on his cheek affectionately. He hated how you would stare at him with your emotions bare for him to see, especially during sex, always whimpering out praises to him, his name falling out your mouth, no matter how fast he was going just to shut you up because he knew that you couldn't keep up when he thrust at such an insane pace, no matter what pain he inflicted in you, forcing his cock down your throat just to see you suffer taking all of him with tears running down your cheeks. You never showed animosity to him, not even when you knew that when he's done using your body, he'd just put on his clothes and leave you there, aching, bruised, and too exhausted.

It was baffling how despite everything you stayed by his side, your love never wavering when it was his goal to destroy that happiness you had so that you could be like him; miserable and very self-aware of how the world was cruel to naive clowns like you.

You called it devotion, he called it stupidity and never hesistated to remind you how much of a stupid girl you were.

And finally, after four months of trying to break your resolve, he got tired of trying and told you it was over. "You make me sick," he had spat out in a cold tone, watching your face morph into one of pure shock while you just helplessly stood in front of his penthouse.  "I'm done with you! Just get lost and pretend you don't know me." He concluded, trying to even out his heavy breathing.

Megumi didn't understand why his heart dropped to his stomach the moment you let out a loud, heart-wrenching wail the moment he slammed the door in your face, but he pushed it aside, disgusted he'd even think of caring about you in the first place, drowning your pleas and unsolicited apologies by increasing the sound of the call of duty he was playing before your visit.

The breakup wasn't so bad on him at first. He went back to his old life like getting high with his friends when he was free and attending parties only because there was some needy chick ready to help him get his dick wet somehow. He could feel a bit of your absence, you were always the one taking him home and putting him to bed whenever he was intoxicated, and in his moments of weakness, he'd ask you to lie beside him, resting your head on his chest and warming him up.

The bed is awfully cold without you lulling him to sleep, and now he'd spend his drunken nights forcing himself to remember why he hates you and why he doesn't need you until he falls back to a troubled sleep.

Women became a blur to him very soon, non-memorable compared to you. You were always willing for him to break you, your lips making such pretty sounds whenever he touched you, kissed you, or had sex with you. Your body was his, free for just him; you became his fantasy, his daydream whenever he was alone in his bedroom.

You always cradled him whenever he had nightmares of his childhood, despite all the caustic words he threw at you about leaving him all alone like his father did, calling you a slut, a whore in moments of jealousy before ripping your pants off or forcing you on your knees to remind you who you belonged to, because he never fully trusted you when he'd see you hanging around guys. They could have taken you at any point in time, they were far nicer and sweeter to you than he ever was.

The memories of you eat him alive slowly until he can't take it anymore. He accepts that as twisted as it sounds, he is actually in love with you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"You make me sick."

You sit at the window of the cafe, staring into space as you ruminate on Megumi's words yet again, a look of longing plastered across your face. It seemed that everyone you ever loved always, always felt disgusted by you no matter what you do.

You can remember the last time you met Megumi, back in high school. He was the school's sweetheart, everyone loved him and naturally gravitated towards the relatively cool and calm boy back then. His looks were also a booster to his already popular relationship; he was beautiful, the embodiment of perfection, with an arrogant grace to his walking step. He was on his way to class when he noticed that you were crouched over in a corner, tears glistening in your eyes, sobs escaping your lips as your period cramps wreaked havoc on you. You expected him to just ignore your presence like everyone else who saw you on their way to class did and you waited for him to just walk off, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

So when he stopped right in front of you, drawing the uniform of his school trousers up a bit to let him squat to your level, you could barely hide your shock, before it was replaced with pain again. Wordlessly, you let him pick you up from the floor, into his arms in a bridal fashion and walked you to the nurse's office, never leaving your side even after you slept off.

By the time you woke up, he was staring at your face like you were sleeping beauty, his green eyes glimmering in the setting sun, legs crossed over each other and his lips pressed in a line. He reached over and gently touched your cheek before telling you to go to the nurse's office the next time you felt like you were having cramps. You remembered the embarrassment you felt before it melted away into the warmth of affection and gratitude for his help. He walked you home that day, even giving up his sweater for you because you had bled out and stained your skirt, telling you not to worry about it and to return it tomorrow, only for you to search for him the next day to discover he had moved away to another school.

Ten years into the future and you bumped into him in your neighborhood. Apparently, he was your neighbor's best friend, Yuuji Itadori and he came for a visit. Despite him growing much taller, his chest and shoulders broader, his green eyes cold and devoid of any form of life, and his face matured, he was still the same boy -now a man- you fell in love with. Then, you should have known he wasn't interested in you when he pretended he didn't know or remember who you were when his eyes betrayed him.

You should have seen the signs when he finally acknowledged that he did know you, just that he didn't want to talk with anyone from his past; You included.

Or even if you were blind, Yuuji had tried to warn you that his friend was not the same as he was in the past, that he had underlying issues he's yet to resolve, "Megumi has grown cold over the years." Yuuji warned you as soon as he saw you were teetering on the ledge of 'I can fix him' like the other women Megumi has had in his life. He didn't want you to end up in a situation where you were devastated; you were a good person who deserved better.

But even with that information, you told him that you'd warm up Megumi's heart again; he'd be happy if he had someone to share his burdens with. Yuuji even brought Nobara, another friend who knew Megumi to try and talk to you. "Look for someone else." She warned, trying to change your mind. "I've seen how other women suffer for loving him. Do you think you can handle him when he is in one of his moods?" she asked, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you hard so that your senses would come back.

They stopped trying to help you as soon as Megumi announced that you two were a thing.

Looking back, you realize that you were a lost cause to them, and to be honest, your fate hasn't changed because you still cry for him just like you did all those years, holding onto his sweater as your lifeline when you cried every night, your heart aching in your chest with longing.

Not anymore though.

The sweater sits beside you, neatly folded in a ziplock bag, the only thing keeping you from getting closure from your failed relationship with the man you thought would love you back after all these years. Do you really think you were in a romance novel? Real-life didn't work that way and it was painful you had to realize the hard way. Sighing, you picked up your phone and searched for his number to text him:

You: I’m returning your sweater.

My love 💞: I don't remember giving you a sweater. Must have been one of the guys you were flirting with when we were in a relationship

You: it’s been in my drawer for about ten years. I think it’s time to let it go.

My love 💞: oh

My love 💞: You kept that thing. Always so sentimental.

My love 💞: Just donate it or better still, set it on fire.

You: I’m not burning it and I’m not donating it, Fushiguro. I’m giving it back to you to let go of whatever ties I have with you.

My love 💞: fine. Whatever rocks your boat, I’ll just burn it myself.

Frustration threatens to set in, but you remind yourself that it wasn't worth it anymore. At this point, you already expect this response from him and if this wasn't enough sign that you should break free from whatever feelings you have for him, then you don't know what is.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

  TWO big dogs running from the open door to greet you in the hallway was a refreshing start. You smile as they settle on your foot before kneeling and hugging them tightly.

Honestly, you feel they are the only good traits Megumi has. He takes good care of these dogs, pets and pampers them more than he’s ever treated you.

Sometimes you hate him for it. Maybe if you were a damn dog he'd like you more.

"I've got to go guys," You whisper as they nuzzle your chest and neck affectionately. "Megumi doesn't want me here so this might be the last time you'd see me." You frown as soon as you hear them whimper as if asking you to stay longer. Maybe if it was a different circumstance, you would have.

If you stay any longer, you wouldn't move on.

Anxiously, you pull away from the dogs and stand upright, before making your way to his front door, your legs trembling from the tension you feel from within your mind. You know you aren't ready to face Megumi, not after the humiliating breakup that occurred right at his front door you were about to go back to again. Maybe giving him back this sweater was a mistake, you should have just burnt it like he suggested or given it to charity, anything to avoid confronting Megumi at this point.

You hesitantly knock on his open door gently, hoping that he wouldn't come out and you would just drop it on the doorstep and run away.

The door swung open and you gulped visibly as soon as his intimidating figure hovers above you, dressed in his slacks and dress shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, hair disheveled and green eyes piercing through your soul and making you lose all feelings in your legs. Your voice got caught in your throat as he stares down at you, his pretty lips morphing into a smirk as soon as he sees you shuddering under his gaze.

"I haven't got all day, I just came from work and I'm tired," His tone is dry, seemingly amused at your lack of courage now that you are face to face. "Hurry up and give it to me," he demands lowly, leaning back on the lenticel.

You feel your hands shake violently as you slowly raise the package to his face. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, not wanting to meet his frightening gaze in fear of breaking down if you look him in the eye. Megumi's lips stretch into a bigger smirk as he watches you tremble before him, holding out the sweater as a protective shield, as if it can protect you from his eyes that linger on your curves, drinking in every dip and bulge while you stand motionless.

Deciding to play with your mind for a bit, he grabs your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You seemed so brave in the text messages," he scoffs at you disapprovingly. "I could swear you were going to break down my door if I didn't take the sweater from you."

Finally finding your voice, you force out a quiet "let me go" enough to reach his ears. This was what you were avoiding, for him to corner you like this to the point you would give in to his whims, just like when you were together. But you aren't, and he has no right to touch you like this anymore, so you bring your free hand up to him and push his chest as hard as you can.

"It almost seems like the sweater was an excuse for you to come and see me huh?" He teases,  eyeing your body up and down as you attempt to push him away, internally laughing at your effort. "That's why you're so inappropriately dressed, isn't it?" he spits in his usual caustic tone as he refers to the dress you wore that clung to your body like a second skin, his member twitching at the sight of your beautiful body -your delicious curves, your terrified face, your thighs, everything. He remembers how willing you were for him to mark you, to put his fingerprints on your thighs, that may be why you were exposing them right now, right? And your chest, you would always throw your head back when he groped you through your top while fingering you, your neck exposed for him to litter marks all over them.

You belong to him, he can see that now.

"Megumi stop!" You hiss, finally showing how upset you were with him, snapping him out of his dirty thoughts. Scoffing, he slowly let go of you, taking a step back before opening the door wider for you. "You should come inside, I'm not sure the neighbors would appreciate you disturbing their peaceful Monday evening." He advises in an even and sharp tone. You suddenly feel small under his predatory gaze and your instincts tell you to reject his offer.

If you step inside that house, you would end up doing things that you weren't meant to do with him.

"That's not necessary-" you begin, now attempting to move back, pushing his sweater towards his line of sight. "Just take it and let me go."

"You know damn well I was never interested in that stupid sweater in the first place," he states, eyes not leaving your cleavage. His heart pounds in his chest as his erection straining against his pants. "Besides, I want to talk, so let's go inside." he insists impatiently, his eyes glued onto you.

"I'm not going in there with you."

"It wasn't a suggestion," his dark voice catches you off guard, his larger hand capturing your wrist in a bruising grip, causing you to gasp as he yanks you closer to his body, his hot breath fanning your face and neck, sending shivers down your spine. "unless you want me to fuck you in front of my neighbors, get inside, now."

You didn’t have to be told twice.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

  YOU stifle a cry of pain as soon as he manhandles you into his living room, pushing you onto the love seat roughly, eliciting a pained gasp from your pretty lips -music to his ears and his hard-on as he hovers above you, dangerous green eyes undressing every inch of you, wondering where he should start devouring you from. His eyes settle on your thighs and he wonders to himself if he ever took his time to taste you the last time he bedded you. He keeps on moving towards the chair until he stands right in front of you, not breaking eye contact as he wedges a knee in between your closed legs, forcing them open without a word as he climbs onto your frightened figure, face hovering above yours while his broad arms cages you in.

"You know, I missed you," He confesses as his mint breath fanned your lips, not breaking eye contact with you. "I missed this," he leans closer before pressing his lips against your neck briefly, making you shudder at how cold his soft lips felt on your neck. He raises his head from your neck to look at your face again, pressing his forehead against yours and forcing you to inhale his expensive perfume, the scent intoxicating and overwhelming you, as typical of Megumi.

"We're not together anymore. I need to go-" You weakly protest, only for him to silence you with kisses, each harsher than the last until you give up and just kiss him back, letting him invade and conquer your mouth with his tongue, exploring every inch until you are both breathless and pulls away from you, foreheads still connected as he steadies his breathing.

"You want to leave me, huh?" He snarls, eyes, knee pressing harder on your throbbing clit, earning a choked moan from you. "Already found someone else? or you're fucking my friends behind my back?"

He doesn't even let you answer as he climbs off you and yanks your body to a face-down position, tying your hands behind your back in a secure knot with his tie, before yanking you back to your position. "You didn't even beg me, you didn't fall on your knees to pray that I return to you." he scoffs as he looks at his masterpiece; you tied up on his chair, legs sprawled out for him to see your clothed crotch, exposed for him to see, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Or maybe you want me to beg you? For me to apologize and get on my knees," He begins, his knees hitting the plush rug, hot heavy breaths fanning your thighs as his large hands hold them apart. "You want me to eat you out as punishment, huh?"

"Megumi, no, I didn't say-"

You go silent as soon as his head dove into your thighs and took a long sniff of your panties, wet with arousal, proof of your body betraying your mind. Your breathing becomes uneven as soon as you felt his hands move from your thighs to the panties, ripping them apart with a firm pull. Your worried eyes catch him staring at your wet core like a snack, licking his lips hungrily before darting his pink tongue against your clit experimentally. You shut your eyes in embarrassment when you let out a loud moan, jerking your legs at the pleasurable sensation, only getting louder as he aggressively dives his tongue inside you, his straight nose bumping onto your sensitive bud as he eats you out.

Your eyes roll back as soon as he threw your legs over his shoulders, grabbing your pillowy hips and rocking them into your face, thrusting his tongue faster while staring into your eyes with his predator glare, getting you weaker in the knees as he moves at an inhuman pace while he tongue fucks you.

The wet sounds of his tongue gliding into your core, while you moan his name like a mantra -as if that would ever make him go easier on you- only seem to spur him on, eager to taste your cum on his tongue before he properly fucks you to submission.

He is depraved and he knows it, but he doesn't care as long as he has your love and your body all to himself irrespective of how he treated you.

"Megumi-" you cry out, wanting to push his head off your core when you felt a strange coil in your stomach, much different than your usual orgasm -stronger perhaps- building up in your stomach. "Megumi stop, I feel strange," you cry out to him, only for him to send a glare at your direction, moving his head faster while he rocks your hips at a maddening pace despite your protests until he feels you violently shudder, a huge spurt of your cum decorating his tongue and parts of his face much to your horror.

"Shit," He rasps hungrily, lapping and sucking at every drop until he was satisfied, falling back onto the balls of his feet weakly, lips still glistening with your release and his spit, catching his breath for a bit before his pleasure-filled eyes flicker up to your shame-filled face again. "That felt great huh?" he asks quietly, moving up to his feet to stand, hands shakingly unbuttoning his shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal his beautiful lean torso.

You find yourself ogling at him again and yet you don't stop this time; What was the point? You had given up long before he made you come into his house anyways and now that he has eaten you out, your core only aches for him to fill you up to the brim like he always did, to shape you according to his lengthy cock, your anger and hurt buried deep down by how sexy he looks devouring and overwhelming you.

"See?" he mocks as he loosens his belt, noticing the horny, needy look you had on your face at the sight of him lowering his trousers and boxers to set his lengthy dick free into his palm. "didn't I tell you that you would like it?" he asks menacingly, pumping his dick in his hand as he hovers above your body, waiting for your answer while he climbs on top of you, positioning his cock near your slit. He notices your eyes greedily looking at his member instead of his face and for some reason, it angers him. Hissing under his breath, he grabs your throat and presses his fingers at the sides for you to pay attention to him. "I was asking a question you whore," He states, trying to keep his temper in check while you gasp slightly at the restriction. "but it seems you only like my dick huh? that's all you want?" he sneers as he buries himself inside you. "After I made you cum, you still can't pay attention to me?"

"No, Megumi, it's not like that, wait-" you stutter out, your brain getting foggy as he sheaths himself inside you fully. "Wait, wait, it's too much, pull out, pull out"

"Shut up." He snarls, gripping your throat tighter and forcing you to be quiet.

You could only moan as he begins to pump himself inside of you in quick successions, occasionally pulling himself out and leaving you clenching on nothing, only for him to slam himself inside you and move faster with much vigor, swearing as he pistons himself inside your pussy, hitting every spot you swear he didn't know or care about before, bringing the both of you to the edge again. He mercilessly pounds inside you, his hand releasing your throat and grabbing your feet to press them hard onto your chest so that he goes deeper inside you, as opposed to him just pulling out and dumping his load on your belly when he wasn't with a condom.

As if he is trying to breed you with his children.

Your eyes widen in realization, but it was too late, lost in the sea of pleasure as your climaxes hit, his hot seed pouring deep inside you as you cream all over his orgasming cock, the action only spurring him to cum faster until he was spent, leaving his dick inside you long after it softens.

You both just stay in that same position for a while, his head pressed against your neck until he pulls away from you and leaves you there in an uncomfortable position. You shudder at the feeling of his hot semen trickle down your thighs, tears threatening to gather in your eyes at the realization of his intent before hiding them once you hear his quiet footsteps moving over to you again, bucket in hand and two rags - one in his other hand and one hanging on his neck as if he prepared all this for you.

It was shocking because he would have told you to get lost by now, bare assed underneath your dress, struggling not to let it drop on his floor lest you make him furious.

Kneeling in between your thighs, he soaks the rag and squeezes it hard before wiping off the excess cum and spit on them, his eyes never leaving his work before dumping it inside the water and taking the other one to dry you off. Satisfied, he gets up and reaches behind you before tugging off his silk tie with the flick of his wrist, setting you free from his makeshift bondage.

Free enough to slap him, but you know better than to wander into that dangerous territory.

"I'm tired," He mutters once he gets up. He isn't lying; the dark circles underneath his eyes and the sudden fatigue from the slump of his shoulders gave him away. Has he been sleeping well? "come on, let's go to bed."

You don't protest -you don't even have the chance- as he yanks you up from the chair and takes you in his arms, before making his way to the stairs until you both reach the hallways leading to his room, a place you've always been familiar with for a while. It felt nostalgic in a sick sense, him carrying you to the place of rest while you were aching, just like the first time the two of you met before he moved away.

Maybe Megumi was still that same boy you craved for all those years, kind and caring, willing to help you out. Or maybe he was always the man you devoted your heart to, depraved and cruel and you just didn't have enough time to find out who he truly was because he left. The rumors back in high school about him beating up bullies who pissed him off and then taking advantage of the kindness of the victims by getting whatever he wanted makes more sense now to you as you're seeing it first hand.

You should hate him, really, but he's laying you down on his bed like a gentleman and he's climbing beside you, throwing his hand over your torso and pulling you closer to him until your body presses against his.

How could you hate him when you can hear his heartbeat against his chest while you rest your head on it, yours following in sync as you close your eyes? He made love to you on his couch, ate you out, cleaned you up, and brought you here to rest with him and you thought of hating him? Maybe this was why you made him sick in the first place, your ingratitude! Didn't you see he has changed? Sure, his words were caustic, but that's just the way he talks, you should know by now.

"Megumi." You call out quietly, feeling his sharp jaw on your head. He hums in response, resting his palm flat agaist your thigh.

"I love you."

You expect him to scoff at you before telling you to pick your shoes and leave. You even expect a cold "I know" or "Whatever you say" to come out of his mouth before turning his body to the opposite side and leaving you alone.

Instead, you feel his lips inch closer to your ears before whispering a quiet, "I love you too" and then kissing the shell of your ear, while grinding his semi-hard cock against your ass subtly, light sighs escaping his lips as he felt his dick strain his pants again.

The feeling of his hard-on against your soft ass made you moan softly in response, before shuddering as his large hand pulled your clothes up and guided his cock to the opening of your already wet folds, ready to fill you up to the brim all over again just to show his love.

And he'll keep doing it again every chance he gets, every time he sees you until your stomach starts to swell with his child and you have no excuse not to beg for him to come back when he decides to break you again. The game his twisted mind made up is far over and not even these feelings he harbors for you deep down in his heart would stop him from further destroying you until you were just as miserable as he was and until he - and no one else but him, becomes your only source of joy.

"You love me right? Then you won't mind being my mommy, would you?"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ layla 2024, do not repost, translate or plagarize my post on this platform or any other platform. before you follow, read my rules first.

[rqgnarok]

Hello! I loved your Jamie Tartt angst and would love more angst that leaves you hurt but resolves itself (I’m too mushy for things ending at angst) maybe self sabotage? I feel like season two Jamie would be good at that since he does want to be better but doesn’t fully believe in himself. Or Jamie is still into Keeley and reader likes Jamie and is icing out Jamie to protect their self? Literally anything there is a Jamie angst deficit 😩 mwah <3

hi anon! sorry it took me so long, school and then writer's block kicked my ass. full disclosure, i didn't read this after i wrote it so sorry for any mistakes! enjoy <3

“Thought you left.”

You close your eyes in despair, thankful at least that Jamie can’t see you. You’d been sure your escape had been a subtle one but here he was– the very person you were trying to avoid following you to the balcony on the less crowded side of the restaurant.

You didn’t think he’d notice. He hadn’t yet– looked at you or talked to you since he came into the team event with Keeley wrapped around his arm, looking gorgeous and worthy of his attention. She had smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you, which made this whole thing entirely more ridiculous. 

You’d thought this was a date. After replaying the interaction between you and Jamie for the umpteenth time, you’ve come to the conclusion that your own excitement blinded you to the reality of it all. When Jamie had asked, all nonchalant without making eye contact, if the PR team would be at the annual team dinner in a non working capacity, you’d let yourself imagine something you couldn’t have only to be left a fool. 

Well. Here you are now, paying the price.  

“Just needed a second,” you try to sound like there’s a smile gracing your lips despite how close you are to tears, but won’t look back to meet Jamie’s eye. He settles at your side soon enough, hands in the pockets of his suit while yours remain gripping the railing, hoping for a full breath that just won’t reach your lungs. “There’s a lot of people in there.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says, hitting the nail on the head regarding your anxiety in crowded places. There’s a reason you work behind the camera, making other people look good while getting to stay away from the limelight. “It’s just the team, right? You’re okay with us.”

You can’t help but agree, even if it sounds a little miserable. “Yeah.”

Jamie doesn’t follow up and you find yourselves enveloped by the silence and the sounds of the street life underneath you. Cars passing by, people chatting and talking, the whistle of the air as it threads through your clothes and bites at your skin. 

“Are you cold?” he asks when you shiver, shifting to take off his jacket and wrap it around your shoulders. You really wish he wouldn’t, stopping him before he can.

“I’m fine,” your voice betrays you and breaks, and you don’t have to look at Jamie to know he’s looking at you now, urgently searching for a sign of discomfort. “I’ll go back in a minute, yeah? I’m right behind you.”

“I don’t mind,��� he says, surer than anything else he’s said so far. There’s a steel to his voice now that he’s realized you’re not fine at all, willing to protect you even from yourself. “I like keeping you company.”

“Jamie–” 

“Are you alright?” you have to, you have to look at him, and there’s a furrow to his brow that frames his face so, so nicely. Eyes wide and concerned, one of his hands leaves his pocket to reach for you. He says, softer. “You’re crying.”

“Am not,” you say peluntantly, because you’re not. Not yet at least. You’re cold and tired in your fancy attire and fancier shoes, but you’re not crying. You won’t until you’re in the safety of your apartment, away from the people who care about you. “I’m okay, Jamie, please go back inside.”

“Love,” he says knowingly, tilting his head. His searching hand, after a moment too long of hesitation, touches your cheek. He’s frowning still. You wish he didn’t look so handsome doing so. “We’ve barely talked tonight. I was hoping…”

He drifts off when a loud laugh from inside catches him off guard, quickly retreating back to himself and digging his hand back into his pocket, taking a step back from you. 

It’s such a terrible sequence of events in such a short amount of time that it makes you laugh, a sharp sound that surprises Jamie as much as it seems to hurt him. “I–” he begins, then cuts himself off. 

It dawns on you that this might not be the first time Jamie has been rendered speechless, but it is the first time you’ve seen him scared. 

“It’s fine,” you say. And it’s not. It’s not, but– “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You turn back into the night and wait one, two, five arduous seconds in which Jamie doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself before you hear his steps begin to retreat. Breathing out, you think the worst is over until he speaks, “you look beautiful tonight.”

He stutters. “Always, y’know, but tonight. You do. You do.”

“Can we… can I see you? Before you go?” he wonders.He calls your name when you don’t take the bait, frustration coating his tone. “Come on, I’m tryin’ here, sweetheart. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” you say, soft, so soft you’re sure he doesn’t hear it. “Nothing, Jamie.”

“Okay,” he says. Then– “I’ve been tryin’ to ask you out for over a month and you won’t let me.”

You want to be angry, but the statement only makes you sad. “Go back to your date.”

Jamie splutters in disbelief. “What?”

“Keeley’s probably wondering where you are,” it sounds accusing even to your own ears, and you hate it. You never intended to get him into trouble or bother him with your feelings for him. “Go back to your date, Jay.”

“That’s not– she’s not–” he blabbers. “Love, please–”

Isaac and Dani, drunk out of their minds, crash into the balcony to wrap their arms around Jamie, too out of it to notice your distress or that you’re even there. They call his name to the melody of Baby Shark, loud and basked in laughter. 

“Ayo, lover boy!” Isaac barks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “Your girl’s lookin’ all over for you! I think she’s ready to go home if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off,” Jamie snaps, thoroughly upset but barely heard above Dani’s teasing ohhhhh. “Can’t you see I–”

You abruptly turn, barely sparing them a look as you excuse yourself meekly, voice wet and hushed. Jamie tries and fails to hold onto you, calling your name. You only feel the brush of his fingertips on your bare elbow as you escape his grip and leave him behind.

[groundzerosgirlfriend]

Traits they would want in a partner:

Senku Ishigami

(This unedited so dont @ me)

Firstly. IF you ever manage to get into a relationship with the man known as Senku Ishigami you probably deserve some kind of award for having to deal with this man’s crazed scientist bullshit every day. He literally doesn’t change one bit, he's still the same Senku that’s blunt, mean, hates physical affection and mushy words. The reward for the least romantic boyfriend goes to *drumroll effect* SENKU!

Senku probably prefers someone that’s he known for a really long time I’m talking since he was at least in junior high but the further back the better and if you were in the science club with him back in high school fantastic. Meeting new people is one thing but actually having romantic feelings for them is a whole other ball game. It’s easier and less work when liking someone who already knows him inside out and vice versa instead of having to do the whole cliché ‘get to know each other’ façade over and over again.

Also, I feel like Senku has only had like maybe 2 crushes in his entire lifetime: one was some famous scientist he saw on tv talking at a press conference at the head of the table in a room full of men and the other one was in his first year of junior high when he was bested at a mathlete competition (in his defense he pulled the most brutal all-nighter the night before while working on some insane project and messed up the placement of a decimal point) by a girl who wore the chunkiest pair of glasses known to man. He quickly got over both as he had learned that realistic the possibility of this famous scientist (who was also married) falling in love with a prepubescent boy was damn near impossible (and illegal) and the girl he liked in school ended up coming out as a lesbian when she and another girl were caught kissing each other's cheek during break time.

Senku probably likes individuals that are independent and self-sufficient like Kohaku (girl boss!!) People that are clingy and to needy are not his forte’ and makes his face sneer or deadpan brutally. He doesn’t like physical affection or words of affirmation on most days he’s more of a quality time (slaving over more experiments with you doing physical labor) and gift giving (making you little trinkets from his science experiments). I mean it’s pretty obvious remember that one episode where Senku’s own dad was about to give a long emotional speech on the record but stopped because he knew Senku would ew at it. So if you’re somebody that thrives off of praise and attention then *opens the door* please see yourself out respectfully because this man is not going to give it to you. You'll be like a little dried up cactus begging for attention.

Senku likes cleanliness and organization. Senku himself is very clean and hygienic. People that are not are usually big turn off and and an even bigger *thumbs down* for him. He’s also organized despite how his experiments and projects seem to be all over the place they’re not. He knows exactly where everything is, the exact millimeter of, every beaker, of every pipette, of every pencil. It's called organized chaos. If one thing is moved without his consent or worse, his knowledge the entire room is thrown off and he has a hard time finding anything for the next 12 hours.

Personal opinion here but I feel like Senku has as dislike for bugs. Like sure. Bugs are cool to explore and on a scientific level sure but anything other than that he’s not really cheering for joy about it. I also feel like he despises getting sick, like literally any type of sickness whether it’s the common influenzas virus or even a slight stomach bug. He’s miserable and irritated and it takes a really long time to get better because although the scientist in him tells him he needs to rest the stubborn workaholic in him tells him he’ll be fine to do a few minutes of work (which ends up turning into hours-please make this man rest🙏🙏). So if you’re the type where you’re unhygienic to the point of constantly being sick or attracting like actual bugs then either you’re going to have pick up the slack on your hygiene or leave realll quick.

Senku also likes people that smart either intellectually or when they’re witty and have a sharp mouth. If they can understand and even better add in their own input when he’s going on and on about different types of minerals sharing his excitement when they make a scientific breakthrough in the stone world he thinks if he didn't believe marriage was a social construction he'd get down on one knee with some sparkly rock he *borrowed* from Chrome's rock collection. Now even if his partner isn’t all into the science *blah blah* cells *blah blah* quantum mechanics and Schrodinger's equation a partner who is sharp on his mouth will suffice jussst as well. It's makes him snicker the tiniest bit turning his head away so no one can see the grin covered on his mouth covered by his hands. People who are blunt and not softspoken are a *big thumbs* in Senku’s book why would someone who has something to say not say it? A waste of time in his head.

Senku likes a willingness to learn even if it's just about they like every now and again. He knows that science is a high broad topic that covers from up into the vacuum known as space or as to the deep as the aquatic volcanoes known in the deep blue ocean. And he knows about it all in that gorgeous brain of his. In Senku's mind everything thing revolves around science, walking-the physiology of cells to tissues, tissues to muscles and neurological brain activity to make voluntary commands, art- the primary colors created by the art starting from things like mud, bugs and fruits, oh chemicals- easy it all starts with the period table of elements starting from hydrogen all the way down to Ogganseon. Anything you like any hobby you enjoy has to involve some kind of science and if you ask some him some questions about how it works or at least how it originates he knows that somewhere in you have the curiosity of a scientist.

Likes athleticism....maybe? Honestly, I'm kind of unsure about this one because on one hand I can see him liking people that are athletic and physically fit not because he thinks that being skinny is better or anything like that but because he can definitely use you like a horse (do yall know like those short mini scenes between the episodes where Senku like dresses up as different jobs imagine him as a farmer with a straw hat on his head in overalls a piece of straw in his mouth and a riding crop in one hand whew😩😩😩) for a lot of physical labor don't worry he'll return your hard work with a treat of your choice but be prepared he will complain about your laziness and wanting to help 'humanity' but on the other hand I could see him liking people that get winded and red faced after walking up stairs or carrying a bucket of water just like he does (extra points if it's a guy like him) because if you're both low stamina and low endurance you can't tease him about his athletic abilities. So a tie maybe.

Lastly, LOVES a strong will and determination he knows that starting the stone world back to modern humanity from scratch is no easy feat hell even he has made a few mistakes while trying to figure himself out. But what he does know is that science is filled with trail and error (mostly error) and it takes a loooot of time before you actually get what you're looking for so if you're the type to give up easily after failing once or twice and turn your back to his goal of turning the world back into the modern society he once had then....I'm sorry to say it probably won't work out for you there's only so many motivational speeches this man can give before he gets annoyed and just lets you give up without any reassurance (don't worry he doesn't take it personal), besides he still has people like Chrome, Sukia, and Kohaku to help.

@instanthideoutsalad I know you said you wanted Soft Boyfriend Head cannons of Senku but I'm so uninspired with those at the moment so please accept my humble offering of this drabble I made🙏🙏🙏🙏. I swear I'll do it soon it soon. 😪😪

[knmaskitten]

Messy ‹𝟹

Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader.

Summary: You decide to accompany your father to his business party with all his boring-looking co-workers. Until you spot Nanami Kento and you’re not able to take your eyes off of him the whole evening.

warnings / tags: No use of y/n. Reader is in her twenties, a lot of slapping, creampie, praise and degradation kink, almost public sex?, mentions of the pill, unprotected p in v, oral (f recieving). VERY BADLY WRITTEN SMUT. Sorry if i forgot anything, tell me if that is the case !

notes: This was so self-indulgent. I'm really sorry if you read this I'm so bad at writing smut. This was not proof read so enjoy!

wc: 2,296.

minors dni, 18+ only !!

It was a saturday night when your father randomly asked you to accompany him to one of his work parties. It made sense; your mother was on a trip visiting your grandma, and your dad surely loathed going alone to said gatherings. That did not mean it didn’t take you by surprise—this whole boring ordeal—but you loved your dad and ended up agreeing to be his company for the night.

So this is how you ended up at a party with people clad in work attire; ergo, you felt like you were sticking out like a sore thumb. You innocently picked a flowy white blouse and a black pleated skirt alongside a pair of Mary Jane shoes. Even so, you were not going to feel self-conscious over some stupidly boring outfits that only people who gave up on fun could pick. And also, your outfit was super cute.

“He is my boss, little one. He makes my life miserable.” Your dad whispered to you. You saw a man who could easily be an NPC. You chuckled a little bit, rolling your eyes. You couldn’t believe that a boring-looking man could make your dad’s life so difficult.

“So sorry to be you, dad.”

And then, in a sea full of grey and monotonous office workers, you saw him. Toned, tall and well-built. A blonde guy who could easily crush you between his fingers. It urged you to know who he was. He was no different than the others, dressed in caqui pants and a blouse that, to your surprise, was blue and not white like the other ones. It urged you to know who he was, as you slightly bit your lip when you analyzed him from top to bottom. The room felt a little bit more hot with him in it.

You panicked when you saw him approaching you. Did he see you? Did he notice how you looked at him? You were so out of it that you almost didn’t catch him and your dad exchanging greetings. You heard your name escape your dad’s lips, only to be followed by the guy’s voice. Your name sounded angelic coming from him. You had to force yourself to snap out of it.

“This is Nanami Kento, little one.” Your dad told you. “He works with me.”

“Hello, I guess my dad already introduced me.” You looked at him, this time intentionally, and extended your hand so you could feel at least his hands. He took your hand in his firmly and shook it. This left a tingling sensation on the palm of your hand.

The rest of the night, you couldn’t take your eyes off Nanami, It was as if he had a magnet glued to his torso. He drew you in; he looked so deliciously toned that you started to feel the need to see him without this much clothing. What could he be hiding behind his office worker clothes? Was the room always this hot? My god, he was going to make you collapse. 

For a really short moment, he connected his eyes to yours. Stoic as he was, he did not take his eyes off of yours, not once changing his collected expression. And you didn’t know if this was your delusion, your own imagination, but you swore he signaled you with his head and then walked off the crowded place. So, with your heart on your hands, you told your dad you needed to go to the bathroom and followed Nanami.

You caught a glimpse of blonde walking and taking a turn towards the office desks, so you hurriedly followed him. You saw him standing, giving you his broad and muscular back. You licked your lips before saying:

“Nanami-san, are you alright?” You innocently said.

He turned around to face you, looking at your body, unashamed. The curve of your hips, your plush tits, and your ass that was barely covered by your skirt. He slowly walked towards you, cornering you with the wall. You could feel how his chest rose with each breath he took.

“You’re such a little naughty girl. Looking at me all night long.” He clicked his tongue, disaprovingly. “Thought I wouldn’t notice those shamelessly pretty eyes?”

You quivered looking at him; you saw him starting to loosen up his tie, shaking his head in the process. Deciding it was best not to move a muscle, you gleefully decided to admire his movements. 

“Imma teach you to be respectful to your elders, pretty girl.”

He then put his hand in front of you; he looked to be asking for permission. You knew this meant you were tacitly agreeing to something bigger than just a single hand. And you wanted it so bad, so you gave him both your hands. Nanami very swiftly tied both of your hands behind your back with his tie.

“Pretty eyes wonder how they’ll look brimming with tears while you scream my name.” He whispered near your earlobe, nibbling at it. You shuddered, feeling something deep inside your core. He was going to get you wet with nothing, how pathetic of you. You wanted to touch him, to sink your hands into his neatly done hair, to squish his muscles, but you couldn’t.

Nanami brought his hands to your hips, squishing them tightly, while leaving a trail of wet kisses from your ear to the crook of your neck, he stopped there. With one of his hands, he revealed a little bit more of your collarbone and started leaving lovebites there, marking territory. Anybody who could see you will know that you were his.

“You’re so soft.” He mumbled in your skin, his hot breath making you quiver. He looked at you with hazel eyes, hungry, and then kissed you. It wasn’t a sloppy kiss; this was orchestrated, as if he were a director and you were his orchestra. You matched the kiss, it felt as if he was all you needed in your life. Lips clashing, he glued his body to yours, grabbing you by the hips. He explored.

He decided to explore your ass, squishing it hard once, twice, then slapping it. You moaned in between kisses, feeling how his hand pushed your skirt upwards to gain more access to your ass. His other hand went up, landing underneath your blouse and slowly going towards your breasts; he felt them, over your bra. You could feel how his digits applied different kinds of pressure to your sensitive area, how he placed two fingers in between one of your nipples.

“Nanami-san, ah” You moaned when he started playing with your nipple.

Nanami Kento looked like a cool, calm and collected type of guy, and he showed it in every single one of his movements. On the way he ruthlessly flickered and squished your nipple between his fingers, on how he casually stopped the kiss and looked at you—plush lips, pinkish cheeks, and big, lustful filled eyes. You huffed, trying to catch your breath. 

“You look so perfect like this.” He whispered, close to your face.

He started teasing you, touching the hem of your panties, tugging at them. He then pushed you towards a desk, urging you to sit on it. He positioned himself in between your legs and planted a chaste kiss on your covered pussy. You whined at this, feeling a heat rush deep into your core. You could feel it, you were getting wet. He did not make any comments; he just let out a faint chuckle, as if this amused him. Nanami decided to explore the plethora of reactions you could give him. He first felt your clit over your clothed folds, rubbing slow, delicious circles.

Arching your back, you purred a little moan. He then slapped your clit lightly, scolding you.

“Be quiet now, darling. We don’t want your daddy hearing us, don’t we?” 

He resumed his task, pushing your panties aside, he admired how wet you were. He teased you about it, your name escaping his lips in a degrading manner. This made your head feel fuzzy as he acknowledged that this was, in a way, something that couldn’t be discovered. For fucks sake, you were his coworker’s daughter and at least 8 or 6 years younger than him. You felt so lewd, so out of it. Your hands wanted to explore Nanami, to touch his abs and his well-toned chest. God, you hated being restrained, but at the same time, it elicited some kind of deep, twisted pleasure.

He kneeled down inches from your wet, dripping entrance. You caught him licking his lips, and then he pushed his face into you. Wet sucking sounds were all that could be heard, you tried your best not to be noisy, but it was hard, extremely hard. You felt how he used his tongue to lap at your clit, applying the right amount of preassure to send you to heaven. For him you taste sweet, like honey, and he was enjoying you.

He decided his tongue was not enough, so he used your wet arousal to coat his finger and pushed it into you, you moaned. He started thrusting, his moves deep and well-maneuvered, everything was exactly calculated to his liking. You felt how he was hitting that spongy point of yours, with his finger curled up. The little knot in your lower belly grew stronger by the minute; you were a hot mess. Soaked and messy, the squelching sounds and your whimpers echoed in the room, fogging your brain and clouding your senses. He made you feel mushy.

He increased his pace, knowing this would manage to get you on edge. You arched your back and started squirming.

“I’m going to cum soon, Nanami-san.” You gasped.

He started pumping his finger in and out more ruthlessly, inserting a second finger.His fingers felt tight they were thick and long, reaching perfectly every spot that needed his attention. You felt it before him, how your walls tightened around his fingers before you covered them with your juices, coming. He did not stop pumping, helping you through your high. 

He looked neat, as if none of this had an impact on him; you could only discern the hard bulge that grew in his pants. Nanami made eye contact with you, giving you a stern look, and afterwards, taking his glistening fingers to his mouth, tasting you once again.

“You taste as sweetly as you look.” He commented, wiping his fingers clean. “Look at you; I can’t believe you are doing such lewd stuff with your dad’s coworker. Such a naughty girl, might need a lesson or two.”

You whined, not replying to him. It really made you feel aroused by the way he spoke to you, how he treated you like you were the prettiest thing in the world, and then how he reminded you of how indecent it was what you were doing. He gave you a long kiss, in which you battled against his tongue, trying to win terrain in an already lost war.

After that, he decided it was time for you to have him because he unbuckled his pants and took out his length. You saw it sprung free and pushed your legs together expectantly, trying to ease your need. He was large and thick; he pumped his shaft twice, coating it with precum before he asked:

“Are you on the pill, darling?” He huffed.

“Yeah, please, hurry up.” You pleaded, needing him more than you have ever needed anyone in your life.

He gave you a quick slap to your tits, grabbing them roughly afterwards, flickering your nipples.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” He then added, looking directly into your eyes. “Imma stuff you full, sweetheart.” He then aligned with your entrance, entering in one swift motion, leaving you stuffed and flustered. This was nothing like his fingers; this felt a step further than heaven. Bliss was all that you could think of.

He was good, with each and every pump, he managed to undo you more, leaving you in chaos. He grabbed you by the hips with brute force, fiercely. You knew his fingers were going to leave marks on your soft skin. But it didn’t matter as long as he kept thrusting into you, you didn’t care.

You also knew that, after this, no man could ever satisfy you like he did. Nanami was going to leave you broken for everybody else. You could feel him stretching you out, deliciously, feeling the pang that came with him hitting the right spot. He felt your cunt starting to squeeze tightly around his cock, making him grunt.

“Gonna finish inside of you, angel.” He said, dangerously close to your ear. For the first time in the evening, you were able to see him worked up. Pearls of sweat pooled in his forehead, ruining the neatness of his hair, which was now sticking to his forehead.

And you felt your high coming and moaned in answer; you two were a symphony of grunts and whimpers, clouding the room with heat. And with one final sound and whine of his name, you came undone. Covering his cock with your juices. He didn’t stop, though, guiding you through your high and going into overestimulation. He pushed with more brute force into you, pushing you thighs upwards.

You felt his cock twitch and knew he was close. He increased his pace, smashing his hips into your ass, creating even more lustful sounds. After that, he came, saying your name in a grunt and filling you up with his cum. He gave you a kiss and pulled out.

And as if nothing had happened, he fixed his hair and pants and left you there, panting and gasping, messy.

Thank you for reading <3

masterlist and more.

[lilacsareinbloomagain]

Heyo! May I request platonic yandere chain with reader? But instead of isekai like normal the reader is actually a destructive spirit or deity that was reawakened by either Dark Link or Ganon? Anywhoooo I hope you’re having a great week- mine was filled with exams lmfaooooo

Thanks for requesting anon! I really hope you had good results from those exams!

Notes: My week was okay, thank you for asking!!

I really let out my imagination out on this one, hope you'll like it.

BTW, take this as a part on the back for getting through your week.

I feel like I made the yandereness on this one so light, I'm sorry

-> Reader can't bring themselves to remember anyone's names so just remembers their most striking characteristics in their opinion.

-> It's been a while since I've read the comic, so Time keeping FD's mask on his belt for safety measures (since it's the most dangerous one and he can't lose it) is merely a headcanon of mine.

-> Reader is a menace who has questionable intellect (AKA a chaotic, pyromaniac, destructive entity being forced to be nice to others by the good guys™).

-> I left the end ambiguous, so you guys can decide if reader was either truly tamed or is still a menace who Time has to keep on check so they won't be too cruel on their "pranks".

-> Reader also magically rearranged Time's ocarina so each hole would play different a different sound at some point, so he literally had to re-learn where each note was so that he could go back to playing his songs again.

-> Reader slept for more than Time and Wild both and doesn't know a thing about the Zelda lore other than the Golden goddesses.

TWs: Light platonic yanderism, mention of burns, mentions of fire and arson, mentions of loud noises, basically just reader being an absolute hazard to anyone and everyone.

Platonic yandere! Chain x Reader

Debt to pay.

People from your time used to say that one could sooner move a mountain from it's resting place rather than tame your natural ways.

You wouldn't say you were a deity, per say, you thrived on chaos and setbacks, a living annoyance to the poor living things that breathed the same air as you, and roamed the earth by the same time you did.

It was in your nature to be destructive, yes, but you never wanted destruction, at least not full extinction. The darkness and the light were both two sides of the same rupee, they were one just like the other, beings of both sides would react the exact identical way to having their butts lit on fire. So, of course, you weren't one to pick and choose who you'd go after each day.

Thing is, most people didn't understand that —if anyone at all— so everyone just assumed you were a being of pure darkness, even if you actually saw yourself as more of a dark gray entity from a moral chart perspective.

And that was how you got yourself “killed”, if that's even the right thing to call it.

Somehow, no one seemed to care much when you lit whole villages on fire and made all of the walls of full-on castles start dissing out pure electricity, but they almost dislocated their jaws the moment you decided to do a silly trick and turn all of their lovely goddesses statues upside down for a day.

As if those same goddesses hadn't just ignored all of their prayers in the last hundreds of years you spent freely making their lives miserable.

You were stored in a vase. Not even a cool cool one. A plain clay vase deep within a temple under the ground. If you could choose, you'd have preferred something more majestic and up to the level of your power, but then again, it wasn't like you were in place to say anything in your defense.

Sometimes you just wondered how your small group of worshipers were. They probably weren't the best people out there, if you could say so yourself, but you were still curious if they ended up having similar fates to yours.

A long, long time later, you were "revived", for the same reason you were "killed".

Not the best choice on the part of whoever went through the trouble of doing all that, but who were you to judge? Or even to complain?

From what you could get from the boring evil monologue the guy in front of you was giving after having just woken you up from the longest nap you've ever had —since you couldn't really die— the guy wanted you to aid him in his quest to kill some other guys and take over the world or some boring nefarious plan like that.

You couldn't recall any of the names he just said, though, so you could only guess that you had either slept for a pretty damn long time, or you were in an entirely different world on itself.

Before you could fully decide on one of the two possibilities, the red guy sent you to fight against that group of guys he was talking about, seven men with varying shades of blonde hair along with two guys who weren't blond at all.

Perhaps you could have admired the strength of the red guy's magic, to just bring you out of your sleep like that and already straight up teleport you.

Thing is, you didn't really care enough to do that, you just did whatever you wanted the moment you realized you were fully conscious and in a physical body once again.

Were you chaotic and very much possibly evil? Yes. Were you stupid, however? Kinda No.

So the moment the opportunity presented itself, you followed those guys around, gathering information. Taking notice also of that one shadow looking dude, who was following them around just like you, seemingly with the intention of making their lives hell.

Maybe he'd be an interesting being to interact with, if he wasn't as prickly as a damn cactus. You swore you couldn't even approach the guy without him reacting like a startled cat, pointing his flimsy sword straight to your face. You swore to yourself you'd break that thing in half one of these days.

And so you set your sights fully on the blond —and the not so blond— guys, taking your time to also play around with the villages they went to and toy with the monster camps they passed by.

Of course, you couldn't just ignore the massively ominous aura drifting from the masks that one of the taller blondies carried around. Your hands itched to get a grasp on those things, whatever was sealed inside it was magical and possibly powerful, and the possibilities sent your mind on quite a dangerous frenzy.

The thing that made you a bit disappointed, however, was how long it took for them to notice your presence.

At some point you decided to start giving them some more obvious hints that what was following them wasn't friendly.

They seemed to really like bomb bags, which wasn't exactly safe for them when you could randomly activate those at will.

Also, you couldn't control the rain or storms, of course, but you definitely could attract lightning, especially since they all seemed to enjoy carrying around those identical metal swords.

Sometimes you just liked to pull on their hair and make knots on them, given that some had really long hair.

The wolf guy had a horse, one you could just startle really easily. Although you didn't have the result you wanted, since the wolf guy wasn't sent flying the moment his horse went crazy.

You caught him later, though. Making loud, high pitched noises to absolutely blow away his senses the moment he turned into a wolf to try and chase you down.

The fire that the short guy was using to mend a weapon randomly became overly strong, enough to have burned his whole arm, if he hadn't pulled away quick enough.

The scarf of the other one just one day became a bit too hard around his neck. It's a good thing for him that he was quick enough to pull it off his neck before he suffocated.

You watched as the one with pink hair almost had a breakdown, as all his colorful, shiny little trinkets and accessories having become dulled, turning completely pitch black, no traces of their original colors or magic left.

The kid tried to control the wind, only to have it blown straight back to his face, bringing leaves and sand with it.

You made sure their cook accidentally poured a bit too much pepper in their food, or salt, even sugar, if you felt like it.

The brown haired one suddenly lost control of his magic, what was supposed to heal their wounds ended up dyeing their hair blue for days on end.

That other guy who always overslept felt his pillow being pulled from under his head at random times through his nights.

And the tall guy's masks have all suddenly decided to disappear.

“Okay. Something is going on here. And it's not something natural.” Time sighed, looking around the camp, tired and worried, concerned.

Wild’s hair was an absolute mess and seemed to have caught on fire at some point, Warriors was glaring at his scarf, keeping it as far from his —almost purple— neck as possible. Wind had his hair almost as messy as Wild's, full of leaves and dirt, he was pretty sure there were also some bugs around it, his cheek had a thin cut from a sharp little rock.

Twilight was occupied comforting Epona, although the both of them seemed quite shaken up by something.

Four had some burns around the tips of his fingers, his hair usual blond hair now stained with blue, Hyrule sitting beside him with a frown, bandaging his hands rather than using his healing magic like he normally would.

Sky wasn't far from the two, almost dozing off despite the migraine that had settled behinds his eyes, which were now dotted with heavy bags from sleepless nights. Legend's terrible mood did not seem to disturb his need for a nap.

“Oh, really?” Legend almost growled back, positively fuming with barely contained rage gleaming in his eyes.

“Vet, I am not your enemy here, but once we find out who is doing this, you can direct your anger towards whoever they are.” Time shot a look to the other.

“That is, if it's even a person doing this. It might be some kind of monster.” Warriors commented.

“One thing we're sure of is that there's magic involved in this.” Hyrule spoke up, finished with the bandaging.

“I don't even know why you're so mad, Leg, you were possibly the least affected by this.” Four complained, eyebrows furrowed with stress. Even as a blacksmith, he was never a fan of getting burned, especially not being caught off guard like that!

“Agreed.” Wild was the next to speak, not bothering to brush the soot out of his hair. It wasn't quite the first time he almost been exploded, after all, even though the experience didn't get any better no matter how many times he went through it.

“You're really saying that, even though the kid only got a burst of wind to the face.”

“Ay! Mind your own business, Legend!” Wind sprung up in defense of himself, already looking to be tense prior to the attack, as the two began arguing.

While the group was in quite the mess, you took your chances to go ahead and approach stealthily to attempt to take the mask you were so curious about. Said mask being the last one you hadn't stolen borrowed yet, since the tall guy seemed to have noticed his other masks disappearances and decided to take extra means of protection towards that one.

In your opinion, your risks were all carefully thought out and calculated, however, you seemed to have completely forgotten about a certain wolf guy at the edge of the camp, standing beside his horse and looking straight at you.

You managed to grab the mask from the taller guy's belt! But at what price..?

Before you could even manage to turn around and run away with it, a hand shot out, hooking on the back of the collar of your shirt, pushing you to the ground in a second. And in another second, there was a blade shoved right in front of your face.

Goddammit.

You barely paid any attention to all the yelling, too occupied hugging your newly acquired possession tightly to your chest.

“Hand me that mask. Now.” A voice right behind you demanded, yet you still didn't move.

“No.”

The sword in front of you seemed to inch just slightly closer to your neck.

“At least tell me what it is, first!” You asked, a bit more squirmy, not at all comfortable with the vulnerability you had right now, since it seemed like that long sleep left you with a bit less power than you used to have, clearly a precaution, should you ever gain you body back. It was smart from your captors, but very much annoying for you.

“None of your business, now give me back my mask!” The tall guy —now in front of you— stressed. You could tell that his restlessness was hinting towards just how near he was to the end of his wits.

“If this piece of porcelain is as powerful as it seems, then yes, yes it is my business!”

It wasn't, not really, but you were too curious to just give up on information just like that.

The tall guy went quiet for a second before he finally replied, going with a question instead of actually giving you an answer like you were expecting from him.

“How do you know how powerful it is?”

“None of your business.” You threw his own words back at him and now the dull side of the sword was suddenly pressing up pretty uncomfortably against your skin, burning you. “Okay, fine, I'll tell you.”

And that was how you met the Links, and also how you became chained to them, unable to leave. After all, you did have to pay them back for all that you did to every single one of them.

But, for some reason, that simple dept seemed to only to get bigger the longer you spent time with them, despite the fact you weren't doing anything entirely wrong…

At least, that was the excuse they gave to you, yet something in you made you feel like that wasn't the full truth.

Extra (This happened)

Time: give me back my shit

Reader: nuh-uh

Time: fym nuh-uh

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

I just want somebody to treat me like somebody

Neighbor!König x reader where you struggle with seasonal depression during the winter, that is only being worsened by moving to a new city without friends or family. Then you meet König, a kind neighbor who offers you support and much needed companionship. König helps you because he's a good man. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth.

[DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, self harm, depression]

The winter drew out the worst in you. Seasonal depression. It was always there; just got worse around the holidays. So cliché. Moving to a new city and having zero friends or family certainly didn't help. Isolated and too depressed to go out and meet anyone. You were going crazy. Locked yourself in your bedroom with blackout curtains, crying for hours on end. Never good enough. Pathetic. Useless, useless, useless.

Your chest ached so bad you felt like you were having a heart attack sometimes. Despair swallowed you whole. You did the only thing that made you feel better. Even if you didn't do it for years, today was especially unbearable. Finding a sharpener and taking the razor out, you drag it along your skin. Snot and tears running down your face. Pain helped. You needed more. So you do it more. It was clean lines at first. Horizontal. Up your thighs. On the outside of your forearms. Up the side of your hands. It was a comforting suffering. Then vertical cuts over the horizontal ones. Mortification of the flesh. Cuts on the wrists. Not enough to do any actual damage. You learned from last time. Didn't wanna die, just wanted to not wake up the next day. A just punishment for being so unbearable to everyone, even yourself. You cringe at the way you liked watching yourself bleed, made you feel like some edgy teenager. Something was satisfying in it though.

You barely leave the apartment, only going out to work or get groceries. Always wore long sleeves. Couldn't hide the cuts on your hands though. It made your coworkers uncomfortable. It was tense whenever you came around, but nobody said anything. Why would they care about you? You don't even care about yourself.

You walk home one particularly hard day after a customer yelled at you and someone else pointed out the cuts that peeked out from under your sleeve. It starts pouring as you head home. You run as fast as you can to your apartment complex, getting cold and wet. What a fucking miserable place. Always raining. Walking up the stairs and fumbling with your keys. You drop them. It's too much. Your whole world crumbles. Tears well up in your eyes as you scramble to pick up your keys to open the door, hands trembling.

"Are you okay?"

You snap your head in the direction of the Teutonic voice. Impossibly tall, burly guy. Keys in his hands, ready to open the door to his place. A neighbor. You never saw him no matter how many times you passed each other, you were too miserable to notice honestly. Head always down, people mostly gave you uncomfortable looks anyways if they even noticed you.

He noticed you though. You radiate sadness and despair. He can almost see the perpetual rain cloud that looms over you. Your presence is heavy. Watching you almost break down was finally enough to make him say something.

"I'm fine."

You respond, choking back tears. This close to full-blown sobbing. You were not fine. Something about his words makes you ache. Maybe it reminds you that he's the only person to check in on you since you got here. You wanted pain, enjoyed it even. But it was distressing this time, made you kind of scared of how far it would take you this time. Even if it was three simple words, they comfort you. You need that from somebody. Anybody.

There was an uncomfortable silence as you stood in front of your doors. You look up into his eyes. They looked tired, like he worked long and demanding hours. He can't help but feel empathy for you. It was clear you were suffering. Defeated eyes begged, 'save me, save me, save me'. Can't help himself anymore. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth. At least he was doing something good. He clears his throat.

"Kaffee?"

He offers. You bite your lip, never wanting to be a bother. Not wanting to take up space or feel vulnerable in front of another person. But you need this. More than anything. You've been screaming and screaming for someone to help you. It's enough to drive anyone mad.

"Alright."

You turn to him, as he unlocks his door, and lets you step in first.

"Shoes, bitte."

You comply, looking around. Spotless. Looks like something out of a magazine. Not a single thing looks out of place. Has to have OCD or something. He ushers you to the kitchen and shuffles around, making your drinks.

"How do you take yours?"

He grabs milk from the fridge, bending his imposing frame oddly.

"Sweet and light."

There are no more words said. He sets down the cup in front of you. Leans back in a chair on the other side of the table, sipping coffee. He examines you. You avoid his gaze. Both of you shift in your seats, awkward. Both of you are afraid to say something. It's like this until you finish your drink, setting the cup down.

"Thanks."

You instinctively pull on your sleeves to cover your hands.

"Natrülich. Anytime."

There was more that he wanted to say. Couldn't find the words though. What was he supposed to say to a stranger? It was enough for you though. At least in that moment. Someone noticed you. Made sure you were ok. Kind of. You stand and slip your shoes back on before walking to your apartment. His door was still open. You play with your keys, hoping there is more to be said.

"You can take my number if you'd like."

He pulls out his phone as you turn around, trading contact info before fucking off to your dismal abode. He watches you disappear into your dark apartment. Shame, such a pretty young thing in shambles.

You curl up in bed in the dark, the usual. Holding your phone, staring at the screen. König. Never heard that name before. Look it up out of curiosity. The fuck? Did he seriously put his name down as king? You're just kind of confused staring at your phone for a while before crying yourself to sleep like always.

Ever since he made himself known, you'd notice him. Going up the stairs, heavy steps in his steel-toe boots. Sometimes you'd be getting home at the same time. Sometimes getting your mail as he was checking his. Hm.

Always quick 'hi's' and 'bye's'. You've yet to text him. You're sure he just gave you his number because he felt bad. Maybe obligated? Whatever. You were in the middle of a breakdown, cutting up yourself. You get a ding from your phone. An unfamiliar sound. You never get texts. Or calls. You look at the screen. König. Still can't believe he typed that.

Hope you are doing well.

He knows you're not. He can see it in your face whenever you walk by; eyes sunken from the constant tears, fresh and old wounds peeking out from under your sleeves. Looked like you were withering away even more so than before.

Thanks

Intrusive thoughts flood your brain. Never good enough. He just pities you. Maybe can't stand the way you make him uncomfortable whenever you pass by with your insufferable self.

Kaffee?

He doesn't know what else to say. Doesn't want to intrude. Can't help himself. Every time he sees you he aches a little.

Sure

You wash your bleeding arms before slapping some gauze on them and throwing on a hoodie. You're in his place again, this time in the pristine living room. Him on a recliner, you on the couch. He clears his throat.

"So, what do you do?"

His voice trying to be as soft as he can be. He's intimidating standing, but he tries to be more mollified sitting down across from you. You stare at the floor.

"Barista."

You're not one for conversation. Neither is he.

"You?"

Your voice a morose whisper.

"Freelancer."

His answer is purposely ambiguous. You're curious, but don't push. You set your coffee on the accent table next to you. He stands before you even put it down, placing a coaster under your cup. How anal.

"Do you want to..."

He racks his brain. He's not one to host. Doesn't know what to do.

"...watch TV?"

It's the only thing he can think of.

"Sure."

Better than being alone, you reckon. He asks what you want to watch. You think for a moment. You haven't had any interest in anything lately, nevermind sitting down and watching something. Suddenly, something springs in your head. It's ridiculous. He wouldn't want to watch that. Fuck it.

"50 First Dates."

It was what you watched when you were younger. Put it on whenever you felt down. 'Gossamer thin,' one critic said 'but lots of fun nevertheless.' His face is neutral.

"Never heard of that movie."

He types it out in the search bar. Of course he hasn't, must've been at least 20 when it came out, definitely too grown and not the type to watch shit like this. You were kind of regretting it now. What a cringey fucking movie. He puts it on. It's kind of embarrassing watching it. There are no words exchanged. Eventually, you stop caring about what he thinks; you just appreciate the movie. There's a familiar emotion as it finishes. Always adored the ending, made you feel good. Or at least better than before.

"Interesting."

He says, impassive. Eyes glued to the screen. You feel the need to defend yourself but don't.

"Well..."

You stand; wanting to crawl under your covers and dissipate from humiliation. He follows suit, walking you out of his apartment.

"Thank you for coming."

He says in a way you're not sure you believe.

"Anytime."

As you close your door, you kick yourself. Dumbass, he's never gonna let your weird ass back in his place ever again. He closes his door. Shame, such a pretty young thing in shambles.

~

You go about your monotonous days, mopey as ever. It's like you were stuck in your very own cruel and dreary Groundhog Day. A week goes by. Ding

Hope you are doing well.

Wow, he really must feel bad for you.

Thanks

You could try to be more amiable for someone who gives you the time of day.

Would you like to come over for dinner?

Dinner, how intimate. Your thumbs fidget over the screen, keyboard awaiting your response.

Sure

You don't even attempt to dress nice, just don the same hoodie and baggy pants combo you always do.

It's a quiet dinner. Steak and potatoes. Probably the most complex thing this man can whip up. Still, it's better than the junk you've been shoveling down your gob.

"Thanks."

You say between bites.

"Natrülich."

He responds. As if this was a common occurrence between the both of you.

"Any hobbies?"

He's cutting his steak. It bleeds, practically still mooing. Thankfully, yours is cooked more thoroughly.

"Not really. You?"

You chew your steak. God, you're such a loser.

"Reading. Cycling. Bird watching."

He states, cutting his potatoes in quarters. Quite the character, this one. Whatever, it was nice to not eat alone for once. Better than eating delivered fast food in the dark like some gremlin. Dinner is finished and you didn't even have a full conversation, probably something you both preferred. He waits for you to close your door before he closes his.

Something made you feel better temporarily as you sat in his apartment. Some company was good for you, as much as you despised feeling burdensome.

It became a weekly routine for the two of you; no contact until you get an invite, eat dinner in silence, maybe a nonintrusive question, then you scurry back to your apartment. You looked forward to it, as predictable it was. One day he says something off-script while cutting his roasted potatoes in quarters,

"Two peanuts were walking down the road. One was assaulted."

You stop chewing, staring at your plate. You sympathetically force out a chuckle. He knows it's disingenuous. Kind of appreciates you entertaining him, though. You think the same. Leave. He cleans up, thinking about that splotch of blood on the sleeve of your hoodie. Shame, such a pretty young thing in shambles.

~

The coldest months of the year touch down, they're harsher then the winters your used to. You're freezing, even when your heat is turned up as high as it can go. One morning you wake up, can see your own breath. Heater fucking shit itself. You call the landlord, says he'll get it fixed asap. You trudge to work, same shit different day. Get home. Still fucking freezing, somehow even colder. Layer every blanket you have on the bed and slip under them with the warmest clothes you own. Try to get warm, doesn't work. Makes you wanna cry; it's the only thing you can think of doing at this point. God must love to see you suffer, it's the only answer to why you have such a shitty life. You just wanna jump off a bridge. Ding

You're in front of his door faster than usual, still wearing layers of clothing. Still numbingly cold. He opens the door, confused look on his face. You can feel the warmth radiating from his place.

"Heaters broken."

Your tone is even more than defeated than usual. You shuffle into his place and strip down to your hoodie and pants. He folds and places each article of clothing on the couch. Kind of feel bad for making him clean up after you. Kind of too downtrodden to care. He serves up something different. Soup?

"Something more hearty for the cold."

He states as he places a bowl infront of you. Red meat with potatoes and some other vegetables. Same thing he usually cooks but in a soup form. You appreciate it, very comforting. Avoiding eye contact as usual, you eat. Only sound is your spoons hitting the ceramic bowls.

"You could sleep here. Until the heating is fixed."

He offers, still looking at his bowl. You look up at him.

"I wouldn't want to be a bother."

You really didn't. Plus, he works so hard to make his place perfect. Wouldn't want to mess that up.

"No bother. Really.'

He keeps eating. He knows you are alone. Knows you have no one to turn to. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth.

You contemplate. Would you rather freeze to death? Hell no.

"Thank you."

That's as close to a yes you can say. He nods, grabs the plates and cleans his kitchen. You walk back to your place; grabbing a toothbrush and clothes to sleep in, stuffing it all in a tote. It's weird being in his place after dinner; can't describe it really, just feels different. He places some blankets and a pillow on the couch. You change into some plaid sweats and a long sleeve shirt.

"Goodnight, Fräulein."

A hint of awkwardness in his voice.

"Goodnight."

You reply, lying on the couch and trying to make yourself comfortable. Little early to be going to bed but whatever. Guess that's what people his age do? Sleep comes easier than usual.

~

You wake up, stand, and stretch. He's sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and reading the news from his Kindle. Watches you reach your arms above your head, the dimples on your back peeking out from under your shirt.

"Morgen, Fräulein."

He greets you. You wonder how long he's been up. Didn't wake you up walking around.

"Good morning."

Your voice raspy, sitting across from him. You're not wearing a bra: never do when you sleep. He can tell, tries not to make it obvious.

"Kaffee?"

He stands, not waiting for an answer.

"Mhm."

You reach your hands out as he places a warm cup in your hand. He always made it just how you liked it. Hm.

You have to get ready for work. He hands you a towel and starts the shower. You lock yourself in the bathroom, the steam warm and inviting. You forgot to bring your own shampoo or body wash, great. Just use whatever he has. It seems expensive, hope he doesn't mind. First time seeing a man use real shampoo and conditioner, not 3-in-1. Scrub down with his body wash. Smells like fucking heaven. Floral with a hint of...saltwater? Look at the bottle, "Un Jardin sur la Lagune," sounds about right. "By Hermès", what the fuck? This shit is practically liquid gold. Guess it's befitting for a guy that calls himself king. Finish getting ready. Before you walk out the door, he calls out from the kitchen.

"Text me when you're headed back, ja?"

You nod and assure him you will. Walking to the coffee shop, you think about him. You don't really know what to make of him. Feeling his presence in the other room made it a little easier to sleep though. And now you smell like him. It's such a subtle, pleasant scent, kind of soothing. The day goes by a little faster, customers are less agitating, aroma of coffee is replaced with his. Hm.

~

The walk back is pleasant, as cold as it is. Being in his place instead of the dark abyss you call home was...you can't put a word to it. All you know is that it felt warm. Enter his place, he left the door unlocked for you. Dinner is already on the table. He'd make such a wonderful housewife, you joke to yourself.

"Abend, Fräulein."

He greets nonchalantly.

"Evening, König."

You cringe at saying his 'name'. Swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. Dinner is less awkward than usual.

"Anything from the landlord?"

He grabs your bowl once you're done.

"Oh, no. I should check, right?"

It slipped your mind. Maybe he's politely saying, 'get the fuck out'. You call the landlord. It rings for a while.

"Calling my guy tomorrow."

Was his response. Didn't really sound like he cared. Didn't even really sound like he was gonna do that. You sigh.

"You can withhold rent if he keeps this up, report him to the proper authorities."

He says serious, almost frustrated. You take note of that.

"I promise I'll be out of your hair soon enough."

Your tone dismal as always. This situation really made you feel so burdensome. He stopped for a moment, staring at the wall infront of the sink.

"It's no issue, really."

He wanted to say, stay. Stay until you feel less broken. Stay until you feel like you can stand on your own two feet. Stay until your wounds heal over and fade away. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth.

He looked over to you as you fiddled with the cuff of your hoodie. Shame, such a pretty young thing in shambles.

~

You were lounging on the couch, him on the recliner. You were scrolling mindlessly through one of the many social media apps you have. He was lost in some book that looked heavy and boring. This was pleasant. Better than the pit of despair your apartment is. You look over your phone. Never really did get a good look at him. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows from when he was doing the dishes earlier; nails pristine but with hands of a working man, large and definitely strong. Knuckles dark as if he fought a lot in a past life. Veins prominent on the back of his hand, they run up his forearm. You know they climb up his biceps. You picture it. Hm.

~

The next week passes by fast. Stopped cutting for the sole reason of being under someone else's roof. Only cried every other day instead of every other hour. Did it in the shower either before or after work. He noticed, of course, just bit his tongue.

"The landlord hasn't been picking up. Gonna try to reach out to the Tenants' Association."

You spoon hot goulash into your mouth.

"Gut."

He nods, sleeves rolled up again to not get sauce on his cuffs.

Still feeling weird about this whole thing, wondering when he'll get sick of this whole charity case situation. You always walk back to the apartment thinking this will be the time your stuff is outside of his locked door. Not like you'll be homeless or anything. Just sucked back into the ninth circle of hell that is your apartment.

"Would you like to watch a movie, Fräulein?"

He grabs the dishes and washes them.

"Sure."

You wonder if you'll have to pick again. Maybe you'll choose something less juvenile. You settle into your usual spots in the living room.

"I think you will like this one."

He stares at the TV, avoiding eye contact. He types into the search bar. '13 going on 30'. You're kind of embarrassed that he clocked you as the sappy romcom loser you are. You wonder if he watched this before. Definitely not. Did he try to find something you'd like? The thought makes you feel odd. You watch the film in silence, a small smile crosses your face at the end. Hm.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

He always spoke so proper, guess that's just how Germans talk.

"Very much, thank you."

You try not to sound like your usual sad self. A flicker of some emotion dances across his eyes. He stands and walks to his room.

"Goodnight, Fräulein."

You settle into the couch.

"Good night, König."

~

Today was your day off, you wanted to be productive; wash your clothes, go grocery shopping, maybe help clean the apartment up.

"You are a guest. I'll take care of everything, it's my apartment."

His tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. Let's you put your dirty clothes in the washer, but that's about it. He dusts, sweeps, mops. Cleans every surface possible, down to the last detail. You're just kind of sat there, feeling useless. He waves you over once your clothes are done drying, dumping your clothes on his bed. This is your first time seeing his bedroom. Just as pristine as the rest of his place.

"I made some space for you."

He slides open a drawer. You were about to say something, but he kind of stares at you in a way that silences you. He leaves to the kitchen. You fold your clothes, putting them away as neat as you can. Once your done you turn to leave. You notice that there are no pillows on his bed.

"We can go to the store together, if you'd like."

He offers, sliding into his jacket. You nod, throwing some warmer clothes on. You're out the house, headed to the grocery store. Walking next to him made you realize how huge this man was. You wondered how you looked from his perspective. You follow him around the store like a lost puppy.

"You can grab something if you'd like."

He says as he grabs a bag of potatoes. You walk off, trying to give him some space. It must be annoying to have some sad, strange woman in your house; using your expensive soap, breathing down your neck, eating your food.

You don't know what you want. Whatever he makes is good enough. More than that. You grab some brownie mix. Maybe you'll bake him something. As soon as you know it, you're back at his place.

"Brownies, ja?"

He pointed out as he put away the food.

"Was gonna make some tonight. For you."

You tell him, watching him from the kitchen table. He pauses for a moment.

"Danke schön, Fräulein."

He finishes putting the groceries away, returning his reusable bags back into the pantry. You face each other. Both of you getting a better look at each others faces. Those sleepy eyes of his accentuated by long lashes, subtle and light scars scattered across his face, stubble that looked like it would feel like fine grit sandpaper. Hm.

He clears his throat as he walks to the living room, sitting down to read. You don't really know what to do with yourself, scrolling through your phone all the time is a little depressing. Guess you'll just start baking. Might be a little early, but fuck it. Standing in his kitchen you look around, you don't even know where he put the brownie mix. You open cabinets and drawers, shuffling around.

"Fräulein?"

He startles you, standing at the entrance of the kitchen. He can be surprisingly quiet when he wants to be.

"Oh, I just wanted to start baking..."

You weren't sure if he wanted to let you do that. Might make too much of a mess. He shrugs and maneuvers around the kitchen, reaching over you to grab a bowl. You weren't even necessarily small, but you still dwarfed him.

"Here, Fräulein."

He sets everything up on the counter.

"Thank you."

You put everything together, try not to make a mess. Baking tray in the oven. Wait. Back on the couch, scrolling through your phone. He reads his book, peeking up inconspicuously. He sees your arms for the first time. You rolled them up while baking. He tries not to react. It's more than he expected, you're littered with gashes. Catches him off guard. You blink, feeling more exposed than usual. Quickly cover up your arms. He goes back to his book. Shame, such a pretty young thing in shambles.

Dinner is quiet, you know he saw your cuts. Made you feel weird. Ashamed. You go to sleep, thinking about how you lay on the only pillow he has in this place. Hm.

~

Lying in his bed, door locked. He stares at the ceiling while he fucks his hand. Always did it when you showed any appreciation; a simple 'thank you' or a fake smile when he tells a shitty joke. Then you made him fucking brownies? Gott im himmel, that made him so hard he got dizzy. Imagines your sweet lips curling up into a smile while looking up at him before you show him how grateful you really are. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth.

~

You wake up the next morning, same routine as usual. Coffee, shower, work. Tenants' Association gets back to you. It took them long enough. They reached out to your landlord, chewed his ass out. Heat should be back on by tomorrow the latest. Realize what this means. You kind of don't want to go back to your place. Feel like you'll just slide back into your old ways. But you can't stay at his place forever. No matter how much he says it's ok. Walking back home, you decide not to tell him about the fixed heater for another couple of days. While making dinner, König heard the maintenance guys walk into your place. Disappointment washes over him. A few minutes after they leave your place, you walk into his.

"Schnitzel."

He says, waiting for you to take a seat. Something new? Looks delicious, take a bite. It is.

"It's really good."

You devour it, really is comforting. Tastes like home somehow. He watches you tear into the meal as if it would run away from you. He clenches his jaw, swallowing.

"You like it, Fräulein?"

His hands lay on his thighs under the table.

"Love it, thank you."

You quickly look up at him and smile.

"Natrülich, Fräulein."

He digs his fingers into his thighs; wanting to milk this as much for as long as he can while he still has the chance. He's going to miss this. He starts washing the dishes.

"Hear anything from the landlord?"

Wonders when you'll break the news to him.

"Oh...no."

You reply casually while freaking out inside, hoping he doesn't notice you're lying. He avoids looking at you, embarrassingly leaky tip tucked up into his waistband under a conveniently long sweater. He subtly grinds against the counter.

"Would you like to watch a movie?"

He always sounded so polite, so disarming. You nod and change into your pajamas, sitting on the couch. He brings over a hot chocolate. You take it, looking at his long, thick fingers and veiny hands. Fucking delicious. Hm.

"You shouldn't have, really."

You flashed a small smile at him. His eyes were soft, stared right into yours. This was the longest you two ever made eye contact for. Didn't even feel awkward doing it. You sit through another romcom, a warm feeling washes over you.

"I really appreciate everything you do for me, König. I can't thank you enough, really."

You can't imagine why he's been so kind to you, but you're grateful for it. Makes you wanna stay forever.

"You can..."

He starts, shifting in his recliner.

"...you can stay for as long as you like, you know?"

His voice a little shaky. You might actually take him up on his offer. So what if you depended on him? He seems to like it. (He fucking loves it.) He wants to help you. (He wants to fuck your brains out.) He's just a man with a heart of gold. (He's an egotistical freak who gets off on playing hero.)

"I'd like that."

You finally respond, leaning back into the couch and relaxing. A weight lifting off your shoulders. He shows off a soft smile, the corners of his eyes crease. Hm.

~

"Breaking the lease would be cheaper than continuing to pay rent, I'll help you cover that."

He says nonchalantly while handing you your coffee the next morning. You blinked. This is a lot all at once...

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-"

"Let me help you, bitte? It's really no issue at all."

His eyes were so kind, it made you feel so warm and safe. How could you turn down his help now? There was an overwhelming feeling. It's been building up since the first time he talked to you. A tightness in your chest. You felt indebted to him. More than indebted. You owed him so much. In all honesty? You owed him your life.

"I really can't thank you enough...'

His jaw clenched as cleared his throat and leaned back into the chair.

"Letting me help you is all the thanks I need, Fräulein."

Something in his eyes flicker though, it was unsettling. You shrug it off. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth.

~

By the next week, you sold most of your furniture and moved the rest of your things into his flat. He picked where everything went though, and why not? It was his apartment and he had a place for everything. If he didn't, he'd make space. You brought up the idea of splitting rent or paying utilities. He waved it off,

"Absolutely not, save your money."

Another week of sleeping on the couch has started messing with your back, so naturally he makes you sleep in his bed while he's on the couch. But a man of his stature and age? After the fourth day on the couch, his whole body was shot. Constantly stretching, groaning when bending over, taking paracetamol as often as he can.

"You can sleep in the bed, I'll take the couch."

You offer while he handed you your tea one night.

"Nonsense. That is unthinkable."

He rolls his head side to side, stretching his neck. You bite your lip. He sips his tea.

"We can...we can share the bed."

You look up at him through your lashes, coy. He nearly chokes,

"Out of the question."

His ears burn.

"Fine, let me... Can I give you a massage?"

~

He's face down on the bed while you're on your knees next to him, hands kneading broad toned shoulders. Hm. You tug at his shirt.

"Take this off, can't give you a proper massage like this."

You feel kinda perverted, wanting an excuse to see what's been under those sweaters and button ups. He puts up a half-hearted fight before taking off his sweater and undershirt. Scars litter his body, some silver and flat, others dark and raised.

"Freelancer, huh?"

You run your fingers across the biggest one, it runs diagonally from his right shoulder down to the left side of his waist.

"Jein..."

He replies uncomfortably, voice barely above a whisper.

"Turn off the lights, Fräulein?"

Less of a request than it was him begging. You nod, complying. The moonlight illuminates the room in a blueish hue. You massage him, his skin covered with bumps and divots that feel like braille under your fingers. Hands run from up his back, down his arms, and back up to his neck. He turns over, eyes shining up at you. Soft touches on his chest and face, day old stubble across his jaw. You feel your heart beating out of your chest. Hm.

One soft, hesitant kiss that turns into two, then three. Then, it deepens, getting more desperate. Big, rough hands placed on the back of your neck and waist. Soft breaths and moans fill the room. Sit right on him, hips grinding against his. Your cheap denim rubbing his expensive linen silk. Half lidded stares and panting while you tear your shirt off. That makes him buck his hips up just so he can watch your chest jump. Your bottoms come off first, then his. You take a sharp breath in while you watch his dick spring up, slapping his stomach.

He just smiles down at you, admiring how your body looks. You freeze, not sure how to move forward with...that. He takes charge, sitting up and manhandling you, pinning you down and licking your inner thighs. He wraps his arms around your legs, hands locked in front of your hips. It starts with soft, almost ticklish licks. Then he buries himself into you. It's wet, a little colder than your radiating heat, dizzying, and delicious. Hm.

He pulls away, chest rising and falling fast. Lines himself up with you, looks into your eyes, searching for consent before moving forward. You nod eagerly. The tip alone makes you gasp, he shoots his eyes back up to your face.

"Keep going, I'm fine."

You assured him. He pushes himself in as far as you can take it, eyebrows furrowed. He made a face that you would laugh at if you weren't trying so hard to adjust to him. You gripped the sheets. He started moving slowly, groans escaping him.

"You are wonderful...so tight and soft...all of this, just for me, ja?"

"Uh-huh..."

Your mouth ajar, eyes rolled back. You'd agree to anything this man said right now if he kept fucking you like this. His hips moved faster. And faster. And harder. And harder. Your toes curl and back arches, close to the edge. His eyes are wide.

"Say thank you for every time I make you come, ja?"

It was less a request and more of a demand, the softness in his voice gone. You just agreed breathlessly, you'd say thank you happily and mean it. You haven't came in so long, the feeling of pleasure was almost foreign to you. He dug right up into your sweet spot, long forearms on either side of your head. He fucked that orgasm right out of you.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou-"

"Mhm."

Foolish smile across his face, reveling in the moment. He helped people. That's what he did. Made him feel like God's gift to Earth.

You spasmed around him. He kept going. And going. And going. He makes you thank him until your voice is hoarse, until sweat is dripping off the both of you, until you're sure the both of you are sore. Before you know it he pulls out of you and kneels right next to your head,

"Open, mein Engel."

He pants while pulling your head to his lap. You wrap your pretty mouth just barely around his tip and gag when he pushes down. His hands shake and grip the back of your neck hard while he spills a heavy, hot load down your throat. He moans when you look up at him, pull his dick out your mouth with a satisfying pop, and smile. He admires the way you flop on your back, drool down your chin, hair a mess, legs splayed and shaking. Shame, such a pretty young thing in shambles.

[nanaminokanojo]

THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 80)

–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term

CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters

GENRE: college au | smut | smau | smau + prose | everything in between | ons | fubus to lovers | aged-up characters | idk where this is going

⚠️ TW/CW: strong/mature language | 🔞 | mentions of alcohol, smoking, etc. | this has narrations | god-awful pet names | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 80 next>>

A/N: Full prose ahead. 2.7k words. Contains angst. Advance apology cause I don't know how to write angst, and Gojo fans, don't hate on me lol

You weren’t going to delay matters anymore. There was no point in doing so. The result will be the same at the end of the day, no matter how things play out. Because that’s just what you’re going to make certain of. You’re going to hurt Gojo Satoru, and you were going to make it so he won’t find it himself to seek you afterwards. Things needed to end between the two of you for his own good, be that at the cost of your own heartbreak.

He has noticed it, the way you’ve gone quiet while you two were walking around the village. You were pretty much acting detached from everything even though you were truly enjoying your time together, lamenting the impending thought that it wasn’t going to last, fleeting as the cherry blossoms that lined their driveway. At lunch, you were both pretty much on your phones since every conversation ended abruptly with your one-liners, and your heart clenched so painfully every time he would just smile, most likely downplaying it to you just not being in the mood like you always were. 

It was unfair. You’ve always been appreciative of Satoru because he never ever showed you anything negative. He brought you to beautiful places, always tried to make you smile, comforted you, and acted like a perfect friend you never thought you needed. However, all you’ve ever shown him was coldness, pretty bad mood swings brought about by the baggage you carried because of your father, and you were pretty much dishing attitude at every turn. And just when you thought you could forget about the pretenses and just open up to him, how you usually acted around him became necessary. It has to be done. Looking back, Suguru did tell you about giving Satoru too much to hold on to. You weren’t going to do that anymore.

And as if the skies were trying to reflect your misery over the whole matter, it started raining. Large droplets of water pelted your skin, cold to the touch. The air around you seemed too thick to breathe in as the heat from the ground rose. But at the same time, you felt numb to everything, merely standing there even as you watched the few people on the same path in the village disappear one by one to seek shelter.

Just then, you felt a large hand grab onto yours, pulling you into a sprint, so quick you thought you would throw up at the sudden feeling of being dragged towards another direction. The cobblestone beneath your feet turned into wooden planks as Satoru ran through the rain with you, your world filling with water, the cold feeling seeming to impact your lungs as you held your breath. Suddenly, your momentary numbness was gone, all feeling returning to your body, radiating from where he held you. 

You already knew you were going to feel miserable about it. It was expected. You weren’t angry. Just surprised. Surprised that the thought of parting with Satoru was so painful, it was debilitating. Surprised that despite that, you still had the mind to keep your thoughts straight enough to execute the final act in your little romantic play. 

The moment your head cleared, you found yourself under the eaves of an old tea house. Satoru stood next to you, chuckling, his hair and lashes glimmering with water droplets while you drowned in his icy blue eyes. You always wondered at how carefree he was and did everything, be it serious or fun, as if it was the last time, always to the fullest, alive, happy. Gojo Satoru was indeed a sight to behold, a balm to all the ugliness in the world, easy to find comfort in...easy to love. 

“I didn’t expect it to rain,” he said. He was smiling as he looked at the greenery being blurred out by the continuous torrents of water and the rising fog, but it fell when he glanced at you and noticed how you were just standing there, blankly staring at the ground. 

“Y/N, you’re shivering,” he commented, making his way towards you. You didn’t even realize you were cold until you felt him come closer to you. He groaned then, looking towards the road. “The car’s at the entrance of the village, too.”

You shook your head, about to tell him it didn’t matter, when he suddenly stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close against his chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. He started slowly rubbing your arms, trapping you in the warmth he was creating while you just held your breath, feeling tears stinging your eyes. You blinked them back furiously, willing yourself to think straight as you dug your nails into your palms.

“Warm enough?” he asked, playfully tightening his arms around you.

It starts now.

“Smothering is more like it.” You threw the words out as coldly as you could, concealing the way you were breaking on the inside, laying it on thick by harshly removing one of his arms from you, but Satoru turned you around, caged you in his arms while he kept you within reach, your faces just inches from one another. 

“You seem distant,” he murmured. 

You scoffed, shaking your head as you glared at him as if he did something wrong. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I can feel it,” he told you, the laughter dying in his throat as he tenderly looked at you, a ghost of an expectant smile playing at the corners of his lips. You knew how they felt against yours, and you found yourself unable to breathe again as you looked into each other’s eyes, you being devoured by the depths of his aquamarine orbs as he searched yours, seemingly looking for answers to unspoken questions. 

Satoru briefly looked around the two of you, particularly at the direction of the path. The two of you were practically hidden from everyone where you were at the edge of the block, and with that in mind, he drew closer, his hand sliding lower down the small of your back.

“What –” You raised a hand to push him away, but he maneuvered your arm so it was wrapped around his shoulder as he closed the distance and claimed your lips with his. You were shocked, more for the fact that you responded to him on contact than the fact that he was actually kissing you at that moment. It felt natural, like breathing, as if you were meant to be doing just that with him. But that’s not what’s supposed to be happening. You weren’t supposed to allow him to get even closer.

His lips were plush and soft, and he tasted like candy floss and mint, rendering you sugar-high with his expert ministrations. His hands roamed the expanse of your exposed skin, making you feel hot even while you were wet from the rain. You were expecting everything around you to melt and boil over with how he was making you feel, just kissing you and not really doing anything much.

You pulled away, but he took that as an opportunity to start kissing down your neck as he made you lean against one of the large wooden posts that supported the eaves, both his hands keeping you in place as he kissed you with profound desperation as if he sensed just what you were about to do, the frustration seeping out through every pore of his skin. He pushed his body against yours, and it wasn’t long before you were melting into his touch.

We can’t be together. You suddenly realized that, and despite having no wish to detach yourself from him, you mustered all your will to do just that. Blood boiled under your skin, but it wasn’t because of the feelings his touches elicited but the thought that you didn’t deserve him. Again, you pushed him away, breathing heavily at the effort it took you to do so when neither of you wanted to pull away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, dazed. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, feeling the heat behind your eyes as you glowered at him.

“We’ve crossed that line a long time ago, don’t you think?”

“I should not have allowed that.” You glanced at him, something akin to hurt briefly crossing his features. “Hell, I shouldn’t even be here.” 

“What? Why not?” he challenged, all playfulness gone. 

“Because I don’t want to be one of your conquests.” You knew you wounded him with your words just as you heard your heart crack in your chest. That was the last thing in his mind where you were concerned. You knew that, felt it with everything that you are in the past week you’ve been together. Probably even before that. And yet you were using it as a weapon against him. “I don’t want to be one of your playthings.”

“Playthings?” he repeated with inflection. “Y/N, I don’t –”

“It’s clear where this whole thing is going,” you cut him short, keeping your emotions at bay as you spoke calmly without giving away a hint of the roiling you felt inside you as a result of his kisses and every emotion you felt for him. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” 

“I want out of this…this…” You took a deep breath. “Let’s end this.”

Satoru looked torn between confusion and hurt, pupils constricting as he looked at you in disdain and utter perplexity. “So suddenly? Why?” he demanded, his usually cheerful tone gone, now speaking with a cold bite.

You looked away, shrugging. “I just don’t want to do it anymore. Besides, our contract says we can get out of this arrangement without questions asked.”

He shook his head, his expressions contorting into different emotions – anger, sadness, loss – and then he looked at you with more resolve. “I refuse.”

You chuckled derisively at that. “You’re not exactly listening to me, but then again, when did anybody else’s opinions matter to you?” You just looked at him coldly. “If you value our friendship at all, you will stop trying to go there with me.”

He scoffed, scorn shining in his orbs as he bared his teeth in a harsh smile. “Okay, Y/N. I see how it is.” 

“Do you really?” 

“Believe it or not, I’m not as stupid as you seem to think, and I understand enough to see exactly what your opinions are about me regardless of how much you’ve reduced me to just this...this...” He breathed out heavily, shaking his head slightly as he let out a humorless laugh. “It’s crazy how you talk about our friendship while being that condescending.”

You wanted to retract what you said, take it back upon seeing how you were affecting him, but a bigger part of you, that side that thought this was right, refused to. You could almost laugh at how your feelings were mocking you, proving just how badly you’ve caught feelings for him, growing every time he showered you with attention and physical affection. It proved just how selfish you could be by wanting more – more of him, more than just a physical connection and the friendship you spoke of. You wanted him, all of him, to yourself, but you can’t have him. It’s the only way you can protect him. You will not have a hand in ruining his future just because of your feelings. 

Ah, Y/N, you are royally fucked! 

“Isn’t it true, though?” you stated, feigning boredom. “I’m not being disparaging on purpose, Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he corrected, but you ignored it.

“I just want you to know my honest thoughts about whatever is going on between us.” 

“What exactly is that?”

“As of now, nothing. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s better that way.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he hissed under his breath.

“Then yes.” Liar! “It’s what I want.”

“I-I…” He inhaled rather deeply, shakily releasing air from his lungs, eyes watering. “No… I can’t give you that.”

“It’s not a question of whether you can give it to me or not. You don’t get a say in this. We have an agreement.” 

You pushed past him, meaning to just walk away when he pulled you back, making you face him again. His grip on your arm was tight, refusing to let go. He was shaking, seemingly disoriented and unable to make sense of what was happening, eyes probing yours, for any glimmer of hope that you were not saying what he thought you were. “Y-you don’t mean that, sweet cheeks.” He chuckled, cupping your face as he shook his head. “No…”

You tear his hand off you. “Enough –”

“Then fucking look me in the eye and tell me it’s just a contract!” he demanded, voice rising. His placid blue eyes were now storm-ridden seas, making chills run up your spine. You just realized you didn’t want to ever see this side of him; that he even had this side to begin with. But this was what you wanted, wasn’t it? You deserved to carry the consequent agony of seeing it, committing it to your memory to remind yourself of what you did to him and why.

Go ahead. Hate me.

And just when you thought it was excruciating seeing him like that, his tears fell and you felt the sky burst open in your veins, bleeding pain, his and yours combined. “You know, you’ve always made me feel like I’m nothing.” He wiped his tears with his hand, a misplaced smile drawing itself across his mouth. “And I thought that was okay ’cause at least I get some pieces of you in whatever way I can.”

Hate me.

“You always made me feel like that’s all I can ever get and all that I deserve because I’m just this fucking shallow douchebag who’s spoiled rotten and used to getting whatever I wanted. That I’m just this player who’s incapable of being serious, so it doesn’t make any difference if you say shit like that to me, right?” He let out a pained laugh. “But believe it or not, that was never true when it came to you.”

I know that. I’m sorry.

Deciding to drive the knife even deeper, you said, “Why? Because you caught feelings for me?” You sneered at him. “We’re both just a passing phase. You know that. You can’t hold me responsible for your feelings.”

“Please –” He reached out for you, but you took a step back, avoiding him as if you found him repulsive. “Please don’t do this.”

You turned around, unable to keep up with your act anymore upon seeing his face, begging you. The Gojo Satoru was begging. You couldn’t watch, not anymore. You’ve stated your piece, and that was enough. He won’t forgive you for sure. He’ll hate you now. And even if that was the goal, you felt your knees buckling at the thought that you wounded him so.

“Y/N…”

Don’t look back.

You walked into the rain, taking heavy yet deliberate steps. 

“I love you.”

You paused. Despite his distress, he still managed to say it with the utmost tenderness, sincerity, and resolve. That’s just how he is – good, honest, unafraid. Everything you’re not. And maybe that’s why you don’t deserve him at all, even if the circumstances didn’t call for you to leave him. Eventually, you would let him go, and you would reason that it’s because it’s for his own good, but really, you’re just too much of a coward to love like he does.

You were about to take another step when he said it again, this time with more conviction. “I love you, Y/N.”

I love you, too, Satoru.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I love you.” He said it over and over again, and you took a step away with every single utterance of those words. Until all you could hear was the pouring rain. Until all you felt all the feeling ebbing away again, replaced by something cold. Until all that consumed you was the raw ache of knowing you’ll never feel Satoru’s warmth again.

A/N: Leaving you guys with this. I'll be uploading more over the next days. Just been hella busy.

TAGS LIST: @arxliana @neeneee @charlie-xo @aelynaneedsalottathing @arizzu @cloudxp @justpuddinglol @mikkies @nyfwyeonjun @whats-humanity-lol @letthewindlead @whore-of-many-hot-men @localgaytrainwreck @pikibee @bloombb @mr-underhills-things @lysaray @chocoyanchan @poemzcheng @bookswillfindyouaway @dreamxiing @koutaroo @taelattecookie @kazuhasmaid @weebbuscuit @moonmalice @taengkatsu @reagan707

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20240217]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[kickis-conan-king]

I like to think that in a modern au, if Keith had any kind of social media, it would be a little bit like one of those accounts where you go “is this guy just really committed to the bit or is he just Like That?” Like his instagram account would be full of nothing but reels where he sets the phone camera down after staring silently into it, walks far enough away that his whole body is in shot and does like, ten backflips before the video just abruptly ends with him still in motion. Another video where he walks around town with a ton of little throwing knives and it’s just a montage of footage of him lodging them into billboards and signs and other random hard to reach places. A lot of his videos are taken in the dark at indiscernible locations with nothing but the flash too bright and distorting his face, his eyes flashing like a raccoons in the brightness, and those videos are the rare times he speaks in his vids but it’s always something like “if life has to include suffering then how come it’s minor shit. I’d rather be miserable in a big way that is kinda badass then go through one more awkward conversation with a barista.” His most normal videos are of his dog just zooming around (no commentary or caption) and just. Footage of his legs dangling from absurdly high places with beautiful views.

Lance just randomly comes across his account while scrolling through his Instagrams suggested reels and immediately becomes OBSESSED with xxjustkeith.xx4510fu. At first Lance thinks it’s a meme account, some kind of bit but then the more he watches the less sure he is. He kinda can’t believe someone That good looking would make anything other then thirst content. He spends hours scrolling the account. He starts to wonder if maybe this guy is a serial killer or something. Then he notices in one of the videos that…hang on…he recognizes that place. And that too. And holY SHIT they totally live in the same town!!! So under one of the videos he comments something obscure but that is undeniably From Their Town, basically calling this guy out on where he lives without doxxing him.

Keith immediately dms him like. Who the fuck are you and what do you want. Lance is like teehee hi uh. I think you’re insane 🥰🤪😉. And Keith is like meet me at x spot at x time for a fistfight. And Lance is like hell yeah brother, writes his last will and testament (a text to hunk) and goes to meet this unhinged hottie who literally said they were going to fight. So they meet up and like. Keith is how he is, kind of mostly just awkward and shy with an inclination for feral hobbies and knuckle first thinking and Lance is how he is all chatter and bravado and challenges and charm and so. The do spar a little bit but once they’re both breathless they just go get coffee and talk.

And after that in all of Keith’s videos there are snippets of someone chattering in the background, tan legs dangling just out of frame, a dude who does backflips with him, someone cheering or whining saying “let me try 😞 Keith hey. Let me try.” When he walks around throwing knives. A dude who is otherwise not mentioned anywhere or tagged in anything.

All the people who are fans of Keith account for its adventurous and surreal humor start speculating in the comments. Eventually Keith gets fed up and posts a video reply to the comments.

It’s in selfie mode. It a beautiful day, and him and Lance are side by side. Wherever they’re sitting it’s up high. A breeze ruffles their hair. Keith looks straight into the camera and says completely monotone. “This is Lance. He’s my boyfriend.” Lances silent shock gets cut off by the video ending (he did not know they were dating.)

[animentality]

I think that the Dark Urge was miserable when they served Bhaal. I think after being forced to kill their parents, they embraced Bhaal and Scleritas Fel only because they felt they had no other choice and they wouldn't hurt anyone they cared about ever again.

And that's why they sought out the cult of their father, because who cares about them anyway. If they couldn't have friends or family or love, then they would take power and worship.

They could murder Bhaalists in fits of rage and be praised for it. They could wreak terror upon Baldur's Gate without caring, because who bothers caring about anything at all, when your only purpose is to kill and be killed in your father's name. Who cares about a world that you weren't destined to live in anyway, a place where you don't feel like you belong, full of happy people with friends and family and everything you could never have?

And fuck those people, for being free, when you are not. Kill them so that your father will praise you and the cult will love you. Embrace the only love you feel you can have, even if it is only a wicked approximation. It's not like you deserve anything better anyway.

But that's what makes it so poignant when the dark urge is reborn.

They HAVE a deep capacity for love and for connection. They DO have the ability to care for and protect others.

It was buried deep, under layers of loneliness and hate, but it always existed in them.

And that's why it's so tragic.

All those years, they had those feelings and that potential, but they couldn't embrace them because they were always trapped.

They had no support system, no family, no friends.

The closest thing they would have is Gortash and they were so ashamed of even admiring him that they had to apologize to their father for it and write him a whole ass letter swearing they'd kill him and the entire world eventually.

Overcompensate much?

So that's the tragedy of the dark urge character.

It's beautiful redemption if you choose to be good, and a horrible tragedy when you choose to be evil.

You could've been the villain. You could've been the hero.

You always had the choice.

You just didn't know it.

[bitethedustfools]

New world, new scars (pt1?)

Tried to make a short story with Grim's pov. sorry if its ooc. this is an au. this yuu is not the same as "uncanny and unknown Yuu"

-

Once upon a time, Grim had a dream. He wanted to be the greatest mage in the world. He waited for the black carriage, but it never came for him.

He waited and waited, but there was no sign of them coming, so he came to the night raven college himself.

-

Grim got himself into trouble on the first day he got there. He knew that the people there wouldn't accept him, so he tried to snatch a robe from one of the students in the coffin.

He didn't manage to, and now he was chasing after him, which led to getting caught by the headmaster.

The next thing he knew, he was in the mirror chamber, and the student he wanted to steal his robe from was declared magicless.

"A mistake"

"You weren't supposed to be here."

Grim thought he saw how the magicless student tried to make himself smaller when murmurs began, but Grim never cared about him. What Grim cared about was that there was a vacant spot. He will take that spot. He will replace him.

To do that, he has to show how much he is worth.

In an instant, the whole room was full of bright blue flames, sending people into frenzies. no doubt because they were in awe at the huge flame he made! It means he's powerful!

He heard a painful yelp and something cooking somewhere in the crowd, but he was too busy to care about something like that. He looked at the rest, waiting to be validated and ready to be acknowledged as a new student.

That's how it goes, isn't it? the strong over the weak? He had shown them what he was capable of.

That didn't happen. He was collared and kicked out of the school.

-

Grim slipped in again, and he saw a house so dilapidated that there couldn't possibly be anyone else living there. only, there is someone there.

The magicless student. His robe singed, and there was an unmistaken scent of burnt flesh and blood. He was standing in the middle of the room, looking lost, tired, and downright miserable.

He decided to come in.

-

So many things happened after that. That guy is a stupid thing. He's more scared of his fire than the ghosts! It should be another way around, but Grim isn't complaining that much when he helped him shoo the ghosts away.

And then the headmaster came. One thing led to another, Grim, and that new henchman of his had become a janitor.

He managed to get into the school, but not as a student. It was not his ideal position, but he had no choice, even if he complained loudly. His henchman could only nod, helpless and weak.

The only good thing he does is give Grim food and a place to sleep, and that just made his new life with the magicless henchman a bit bearable.

-

The morning comes, and Grim has a job to do. Well, not him, but his henchman. He would rather watch than do this stupid useless work. His henchman said something, but Grim is the boss in this relationship, so he doesn't need to listen to him.

His henchman quieted down, meekly sweeping the pavement with the broom given to him while Grim entertained himself with the statues and that newcomer who introduced himself as Ace Trappola.

He was nice, until he wasn't.

Cruel remarks left Ace's mouth, a mocking sneer etched on his face. Grim anger grew. His henchman tried to talk and make peace, but he was an idiot.

His henchman wasn't helpful at all. Words won't do anything. He needs to fight back!

He doesnt. And so Grim takes the lead, sending a bunch of fireballs at Ace. Ace retaliated even more, sending the flame away and everywhere with his wind magic.

His henchman took a few steps back, hiding behind the statue. Away from sight, away from mind. Grim disliked his choice and personality.

One of the flames is heading to Grim's direction. He didn't see his henchman reach out from behind him, and Grim dodged at the last minute while complaining.

"Why do I have to be stuck with a magicless guy!?"

Said person froze in place, and then the fireball hit his face.

The smell of burning intensified. His henchman swallowed his scream by gritting his teeth. And yet, somehow, it pierced the silence as Grim and Ace stood still while watching him curled on the pavement. His bloody hands cradled half his face.

The headmaster came, and he was understandably furious, but the henchman unexpectedly begged not to suspend them.

"It was my fault. This is what I deserved."

They both tried to protest when the headmaster punished them before leaving to guide the poor henchman into the infirmary.

-

When his henchman came back, half his face was covered by bandages, his smile was tight, and his hands trembled when he approached Grim.

"The headmaster said to look after you, and you shouldn't ditch your punishment," he said after a while, never looking him in the eye.

Grim defended himself, "It was not my fault. You said it was you. You should do it instead."

Grim ran off before he said anything. He does not want to be stuck all day doing janitor work. He is the great Grim after all. He must not stoop so low.

Grim heard his henchman chased after him. It goes from one pair of feet to two to three pairs of feet. His henchman somehow managed to drag Ace into chasing after him and involving a random guy by the name of Deuce.

Grim jumped on a chandelier in an effort to escape; Deuce threw Ace at him, and both fell down along with the chandelier.

There was a crash, Grim's vision fading in and out. He thought he smelled blood wafting in the air, but when he was brought to reality, everyone was fine. They got caught by the headmaster again, but fine.

The scent still lingers in the air, and it took him time to realize it was there because the source was following him.

Grim told his henchman to wash up because he smelled dirty. The henchman winced in response. He murmured sorry with his head down and took a step back.

-

Because of his henchman and those two idiots he brought with him. He was forced to get involved and find the magestone in a dwarf mine to compensate for their mistake in destroying the chandelier.

He did not like ghosts, nor did he like the dark, but he wouldn't admit that. He is the great Grim after all. He doesn't have weaknesses!

His paws slowly reach out to cling onto his henchman's pants, only for the henchman to flinch away from his touch. One eye blown wide opened in fear and mouth slightly ajar before it snapped shut.

Blue eyes met his in confusion, and the henchman immediately averted his gaze.

-

There's a monster in the mine. More fearsome and powerful than him. Grim is scared, but he fights back even as they all dash to find a way out.

He's not like his henchman, who only knows how to hide, run, and attempt to talk to calm things down; this is why he must fight.

When they escaped, the two idiots fought. One wants to leave, and another wants to go back and take the magestone, so they cannot get expelled.

His henchman tried to settle them down after their heated argument. He gets pushed, and he falls down so easily. His palms grazed by the tiny sharp rocks. He's so weak that his body shook like a leaf blown by the wind, and his eyes were filled with fear, but he was awfully adamant about getting that magestone.

He begged to be heard, and they listened, even though they were unwilling.

-

The plan succeeds. The monster died, and they cheered. Everyone is relieved, but no one is more relieved than the henchman.

Grim didn't point that out. He has something important to take care of.

Grim gobbled up the black magestone he found on the dirt, and everyone watched as he did so. Only those two idiots said something about it.

-

Their troublesome tasks were rewarded much to Grim's delight. He is a student now, though he shares the same position as his henchman but that is bearable. His dream is getting closer!

Grim wanted to brag about the magestone the headmaster gave him to his henchman, so he approached him so he could take a look at it as well.

His henchman took a step backward, and he didn't meet his eyes.

Grim huffed at his expression and bragged it to the others instead.

-

That night, Grim ate a hearty meal while the henchman ate a little. He could smell a strong flowery scent on him when he finished showering, and when it was time to sleep, the henchman decided to sleep on the floor while Grim slept on the bed.

Grim looked down at him from the edge of the bed. The henchman was curling up in his sleep with no blanket or pillow.

Grim didn't say anything and decided to settle himself on the other side of the bed.

If there was a subtle scent of salt, he didn't mention it in the morning.

-

That was the first two days when he met Yuu, his henchman. It was also one of the most memorable moments he had with Yuu.

He had the weirdest name that sounded like you, and he was more trouble than he was worth.

Sure, they are all trouble, but his henchman makes it worse.

It was not their fault that he was hurt. He was simply too weak and too slow; he couldn't avoid the attack. Yuu can't say no to odd jobs that the headmaster gave or to anyone in particular.

And if Grim said no and then changed his answer, then that just means he's good at negotiating.

Overall, Yuu just don't belong here. That was Grim's thought, and it will always be every time the henchman gets picked on and returns back with bruises, blood, and a limp.

Yuu was useless and pathetic, as well as an idiot who always tried to talk their way out of a fight when it should be clear that they needed to be dealt with fighting.

If his henchman were in the wild, where Grim used to live, he wouldn't survive at all, so it was a good thing you had Grim beside Yuu and fought back for him. He is the Great Grim's henchman, after all.

-

Grim always peered down from the bed every night and watched Yuu fall asleep. There were tears streaming down Yuu's cheeks, and this doesn't surprise Grim anymore.

But Yuu were always quiet when he shed tears. Too quiet that Grim wouldn't know he was crying if it weren't for his scent of salt wafting in the cold air.

His figure started looking smaller and smaller as the night went on.

Grim always wondered why he cried.

-

He tried to sleep on the floor with Yuu one night. It was very cold that night, he reasoned with himself.

The floor thumped lightly under his weight, and his henchman suddenly jolted awake and recoiled away from him in a matter of seconds, like an instinct.

Grim saw the same thing in his eye.

Grim frowned and said, "Whaddya get scared for?"

"I'm sorry" was Yuu's response.

-

Ace and Deuce were Grim's, and also his henchman's friends. Thats what Grim thinks, but Grim thinks friends is not what Yuu would call them since he barely opened up with them.

Yuu dislike Ace's terrible pranks and his hurtful jabs that ace said were jokes.

Yuu dislike the violent tendencies that pop up once in a while and sometimes accidentally on the receiving end.

Still, Yuu followed them even as his hands trembled against his will. They are both rough with Yuu, but Yuu won't speak up about how ugly bruises began to decorate his whole body.

Yuu would rather hide it and shut up. And if asked, he lied.

Grim didn't say anything to the two idiots, but he joined in the fun, and they received scratches.

-

Grim remembered the time when they all got stuck together, which eventually got dubbed friendship. It was when Ace got collared and they met Riddle, the teapot tyrant, along with Trey and Cater.

His henchman looked a bit comfortable with Trey, but it was the opposite for Cater. Yuu didn't really trust him, but he still couldn't say no to the suggestion to take a picture together.

Yuu's smile is rather ugly, and he was so out of place. His henchman apologized many times for making the picture ugly. Cater said it was fine, but Yuu still think about it.

-

Yuu's behavior toward Trey shifted when they needs his help to make a chesnut tart. Trey tricked and lied about the simplest thing. He then talked about his unique magic, and Grim witnessed that his henchman's face suddenly went even more pale.

Yuu suddenly acted like everything he was walking on were eggshells in a matter of seconds. He had a hard time eating the food Trey made, so he gave it Grim.

Grim ate his treats with a full belly.

He heard Yuu's stomach growled loudly that night.

-

If Yuu had magic and a dorm, there's a high chance that he might be Riddle's favorite person. Yuu submitted too easily when he was confronted by Riddle. Yuu apologized like his whole life depends on it, and said he would make up for it. For himself and for Ace and Deuce.

Yuu said he would do anything. Just let them go.

When Riddle left, pleased at Yuu's groveling, Ace gets mad, and his voice is loud as he berated Yuu. Deuce looked at Yuu in disapproval and concern and Grim wanted to yell at his henchman.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

His henchman cried out, "I'm sorry. im sorry. im sorry."

His henchman is really weak. He decided to cry instead of fighting back.

-

There was an overblot. Things are never peaceful with the idiots he was forced to get along with. Some days are fun, but this was not one of them.

It was just like before. The monster is stronger than him. Grim is scared, but he still fights back, even if it doesn't affect him.

Yuu still hides, tempting to run away.

Grim, and the other two kept an eye on him.

-

The monster disappeared. They managed to save Riddle. Everyone gets out of this fight with a mild scratch, bruises, and dirty clothes.

His henchman didn't do anything, and he came out with a broken arm and a small branch stabbed into his side.

Yuu was out of view, like he didn't want to be found. His cries are quiet as always, and his face is weary as he lets out a stuttered breath while nursing his wound.

Grim heard what Yuu murmured underneath his breath when he approached him.

"He has friends… How nice… How nice that someone cared for you."

Grim called for Ace and Deuce instead of confronting whatever he meant.

-

Going to the infirmary would be the norm if it weren't for Yuu actively avoiding it.

When one urges him to go, he will be hesitant to drink the limited healing potion, preferring to find the simplest first aid and bandages.

Grim remembered asking why, and his henchman replied that he didn't want to be more in debt with the headmaster.

"And be more of a baggage? How's your going to run with a twisted ankle? You know I can't always protect you." Grim had replied sassily back then.

He almost missed the way his henchman stood rigidly with a terrified expression. The healing potion held tightly in his grip.

Grim didn't see Yuu taking it, but Yuu looked okay after that. Yuu can run even though he is slow and almost falls.

Yuu's face had been wincing in pain, but he can still keep up with Grim, and that's all that matters.

but Yuu was here again, terribly hurt than before. The blood gushed and Yuu wanted to go back while they treated him. Yuu didn't want to trouble them, but Ace and Deuce protested that he should rest here.

Grim saw that Yuu struggled to say something, but the words died down in his throat. Yuu nodded hesitantly.

They leave him there to recuperate that night.

-

The next day, Yuu was in an even more terrible shape. The blood soaked through, and the makeshift splints and bandages are all ruined. A new bruise bloomed on his face and peeking out of his wrinkled shirt.

There was even blood coming out of his nose that smeared on the lip's area, like Yuu tried so hard to erase it. But even if he did succeed, the blood on the collar would tell them.

"I fell. I'm sorry for troubling you," he said with cracks in his voice. He sounded ashamed, afraid, and so on.

They don't believe that, of course. They all knew what a bruise from falling looked like.

Ace and Deuce told Riddle, who wanted to mend their relationship and be a better person, and now those bullies got punished and collared. Ace and Deuce didn't pass the chance to beat them up in their own ways. Brutally.

Grim thinks he finally knows why Yuu follow them of all people.

[miguelswifey04]

can you write something where gwen finds yn on the bathroom floor unresponsive and calls miguel for help and he panics but after a while yn wakes up and tells them it’s a side effect of the medication she’s taking? tysm ,

hmmmm for sure!!

summary: gwen finds you unresponsive due to a side effect of a medication you’re taking, and miguel panics…

warnings: unresponsive body, mentions of meds, unconscious Y/N, maybe signs of an overdose/side effects from meds(?)

🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱

“oh my god?? Y/N!! wake up!!” gwen’s blood runs cold while she comes across your unresponsive body on the bathroom floor. gwen doesn’t know whether to scream for help or to help you herself. she cradled your head making sure you’re okay and haven’t sustained any injuries to your head. she held your head and place it gently on her lap as she sat on the bathroom floor to support your unconscious body. she observes her surroundings frantically until she encounters a bottle of pills—labeled with your name and some random name she can’t really decipher from the medication you had ingested awhile ago.

“shit, shit, shit! Y/N—wake up!!” gwen panics as at this point as million of thoughts come to mind. she hopes it isn’t what she think it is that you’ve accidentally overdosed from prescribed meds you just took. gwen knows she can’t handle this situation by herself so she calls miguel o’hara from here watch. she shakily taps away at her watch as she dials miguel. miguel appears on the hologram looking at a panicked-gwen stacy.

“what’s wrong?? what’s the matter??” miguel says in his monotonous voice waiting for gwen to fill him in. gwen gulps thickly as her heart palates excessively against her rib cage. “it’s Y/N! she’s passed out—”

“what???? where are you!??” miguel voice roars in a panicked tone as his whole body tenses up. he starts talking to others who are with him to leave as an emergency had come up. gwen could tell that miguel was worried now and was slightly panicking as well. “the women’s restroom!”

“okay stay put! have you checked her pulse yet?” gwen could hear the way his heavy steps carried with urgency as miguel tried to keep his cool. “no,” she immediately checked, “there’s a pulse but lightly!”

“okay, good. just stay there. i’m coming.” miguel immediately hung up as he made it his mission to come find you. he had hoped it wasn’t anything serious for the matter since he actually deeply cared about you but was terrible at showing it. gwen, you best friend, did her absolute best to stay by your side and make sure nothing bad would happen to you. finally, as if all hope was lost, miguel came bursting through the door. the door swung opened and in came a frantic miguel as his chest rose and fell aggressively. he tried to regulate his breathing but failed miserably as he saw you unconsciously laying in gwen’s arms. he immediately bent down to take you into his arms, safe in his grasp, and ran towards the nearest medical sector of the HQ. gwen followed right behind miguel and you trying to keep up but miguel was full on sprinting. he was worried that if he was any second slower that you could slip away…and miguel was tired of losing the people he loved leave him. everyone around saw the way gwen ran in a hurried pace along with a miguel who was carrying your body. your head lulled in a rhythm that mimicked miguel’s hurried foot steps.

fear lingered between gwen and miguel as their knees wanted to buckle from the severity of the situation, though, they couldn’t just give up. they had to get you to medical bay, and they did. they spider-doctors and nurses soon rushed to aide you. they got you situated and stabilized your condition. miguel and gwen stood side by side looking from the window of your hospital room. a doctor came up to gwen and miguel informing you that you were fine and you’d be waking up anytime soon. they both thanked them and soon entered your room in a rushed manner.

the seconds feel like an eternity, but eventually, you stir and slowly regain consciousness. miguel’s and gwen’s expressions fluctuates from relief to worry, his concern evident as he helps you to a more comfortable sitting position.

with a mix of relief and apprehension, he asks, "Y/N, what happened? why were you unresponsive?" his voice holds a tremor of anxiety as he anxiously waits for your response.

taking a deep breath, you manage to explain that the unresponsiveness was due to a side effect of the medication you were taking. you assured miguel and gwen that you are okay, but that the episode startled you as well.

“oh, thank god! i’m so glad you’re okay!!” gwen wrapped her arms around you loving as she sighed a sigh of relief. gradually, the panic subsides from miguel’s eyes as he processes your explanation. he holds you close, providing a comforting embrace, relieved that the situation was not more serious.

“i’m just glad you're alright," he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of relief and lingering concern. "we should keep an eye on any side effects like this in the future, though. your well-being is important to me, and i want to make sure you're always safe." you agreed that you’ll be more cautious and keep an eye out in case if something like that every happens again. it was a scare that miguel would probably never forget. he may be cold and rude but he certainly cares about your health and well-being. gwen was ecstatic to see you doing good and that it wasn’t anything serious like an overdose.

“thank you guys! you both mean so much to me.” miguel nodded as he stood by your side, playing with your black locs for your comfort. gwen nodded as she held your hand and caressed the back of your hand with her other hand. you weren’t alone and had people in your life who cared about the greater good of your health.

———

a/n: i’d be scared if i saw an unconscious person :(

[sleepyfan-blog]

Rotten Hope (1)

Author’s note: Part one of the Typhus x Reader fics. I blame you all for the botflies that have spawned because of this.  Next

Tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: fictional illness, quarantine, bodily fluids, body horror, vomiting, please ask me to tag anything that makes you uncomfortable that I missed

Summary: Illness ravages the sector you’ve been quarantined in. Desperate for help as supplies dwindle, you psychically reach out to a nearby Astartes Librarian, who promises to bring aid.

word count: 2, 677 words

In your centuries of life, you’d seen many things. Glorious heights and dizzying lows…  But this creeping, miserable sickness that weakened the bodies and minds of the non-perpetual humans around you was a whole new kind of awful that you’d have been happy to have never seen ever. You’d established yourself on this world as a mid-level rogue trader before the quarantine had gone in place. You were wealthy, yes, but not Very Well Known, as your perpetual nature might attract the attention of the Inquisition, and you’d spent long enough dodging their knives and gang-pressing into their service last century, thank you very much. 

You’d funded the research project into trying to combat and cure the horrible illness that started as excessive lethargy and the inability to focus on any one task for more then a handful of minutes. After a week or two of low energy, the person afflicted with this disease would suddenly get a strong burst of energy and the desire to go out and interact with as many people as possible, alongside a minor cough and the occasional but regular sneeze. After a week of increased energy, a terrible fever would strike, alongside a bright red rash that appeared across an afflicted person’s back, neck and shoulders.

The rash was incredibly itchy and, if scratched, oozed puss that was highly contaminated and spread the illness just as quickly as sneezing or coughing directly on another person did. It took another week for the rash to spread fully across an afflicted person’s body, with pustules appearing wherever a person scratched that often burst painfully, before regrowing. Within a month over half of the total population of the world you’d been visiting had caught the illness and were suffering through one of the first three stages of the illness. That was when the planetary governor instated the quarantine, even as the rash spread across her cheeks and faces, enforced by the arbites and the astra militarum in hazmat gear.

The governor had also sent out a shelter in place order, with rations being delivered to the shelters of the living at regular intervals, to further discourage anyone from breaking the stay in place order. Those who did not have permanent housing of their own were put up in hotel rooms for no cost. The medical and medical research staff on world who had not fallen to the illness were working frantically to come up with either a cure or at least a treatment that would delay the onset of further symptoms…

Especially as after the pustules on an afflicted person’s body had burst and reformed over half of their skin, they had to be put in full-body restraints, as otherwise the altered mental state that the sickness-afflicted person went into was both violent and difficult to stop with anything less than using lasgun rounds to each of their joints and melta-flames to prevent the gushing spurts of puss that sprayed from those wounds from covering everything in a ten foot radius in grey, highly infectious bodily fluids that stunk so badly of rot and death that made anyone improperly attired vomit. While in this violent state, if the infected person or people weren’t properly restrained, they tried to infect as many people as they could by forcibly trying to smear the puss into the eyes, mouth, or nose of any uninfected they could reach.

You’d used your contacts made as a Rogue Trader to desperately call for aid in combatting this illness… There was also the fact that, should things continue as they were, within about six months, all of the emergency stores of rations would be depleted, as the ill still needed to be fed, no matter how violent they became. Not that the sick seemed to be able to die of the infection itself - the only fatalities that had happened were due to the arbites having to kill the infected who broke free of their restraints and tried to infect the healthy.

You… You weren’t sure the fact that the sick weren’t able to die of the illness that ravaged their bodies and minds was a good thing, especially as both medical supplies and rations began to run low. You’d contacted your friends and allies you’d made as a rogue trader and found out that the fucking Inquisition had declared the entire system a no-go zone. Oh, the callous bastards were watching as the healthy of this and the other five living worlds scrambled and tried to keep themselves from succumbing to the illness they were trying to research a cure or at least treatments to ease the worst of the symptoms… But they refused to send so much as an unmanned ship of medical or standard rations, much less anything that would truly help the situation.

Bastards!

You did have ways of sending encoded messages to others that the Inquisitors who were heartlessly watching the people of this system suffer and break under the onslaught of this illness couldn’t intercept and stop. While you were still wary of the genetically altered creations of Neoth’s, you were keenly aware that many of the Adeptus Astartes who roamed the stars did try to protect humanity to the best of their abilities and many of them despised the Inquisition and would come to help in order to spite whichever Ordo of the inquisition was withholding aid to this system… Doing so, however, required that you use some of the psychic gifts that you used as sparingly as possible, in order to avoid detection as the powerful psyker you were.

Dodging curious Astartes Librarians was a small price to pay for aid for the mortals suffering in utter agony all around you… Which was why you settled down into a meditative pose, sitting comfortably on your ship, the murmurs of your frightened crew and anxieties a background hum that you needed to ignore in order to reach out psychically. You had been on semi-friendly terms with Neoth before he’d been interred onto the Golden Throne and did your best to guide humanity towards a better future in whatever ways you could… You also had the verifiable command codes that would prove you were a high ranking - if secret - member of the Imperial Hierarchy when you came into contact with an Astartes Librarian. 

You began your psychic search for an astartes librarian with caution - aware that the Inquisition had their own psykers and you had no desire to reveal yourself to them if at all possible. Time passed as you searched for the particular blend of determination, training and psycho-indoctrination that marked an Astartes Librarian, your mind wandering further and further from your body. 

You could not say how long it took you to find him, but he was a powerful psyker, and held the strict discipline of an Astartes. You lightly tapped on his walls - a silent request to speak, making sure that your pressure against his mind was just enough to be felt, while just as clearly also not being an attack of some kind. 

Less than a second passed before his mind focused on you. You could feel the way his mental presence shifted and stretched, grabbing a rough hold on your consciousness, turning you this way and that, buzzing with confusion and curiosity - and a little bit of indignance that a stranger would dare touch his mind in such a way.  {WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU REACHING OUT TO ME?} He eventually sent coherently.

You explain who you are, giving the psychic imperial codes that would prove who you were as well, before explaining {The inquisition refuses to allow any aid to come to the system I am in. A terrible illness has infected over ninety percent of the populations of the system I am in. The remaining healthy people are doing their best to try and find a cure or at least treatments for this disease. I am immune, but that’s because I am a perpetual. The immunity I enjoy is not something I can share with others.}

The Astartes Librarian’s mind surged back and forth, thoughts and emotions swirling together in a chaotic hurricane that you could only catch bits and pieces of, though you were trying not to peer too deeply into his mind - it was rude to do that without permission after all - and tried not to get overwhelmed by the intensity of his presence. {And so you sought me out because?}

{Most Astartes and the Inquisition do not get along for… Many reasons. I sought to call for help from an astartes whose mind I could communicate with. Please… the mortals are suffering terribly, though the illness does not seem to let them die…} You plead, offering up the memories you have of the terrible illness ravaging through the near half-dozen worlds.

The screams of the deeply afflicted as they throw themselves bodily at the healthy. Teeth and puss smearing against glass and plastic face plates. The awful coughing and sneezing. The low medical supplies and even fewer rations and food that was edible. The fact that the disease had mutated and afflicted the livestock and domestic animals, causing further vectors of infection and misery. 

{You are a perpetual Rogue Trader, mm? Caught between this illness and the Inquisition, unable to help, unable to flee. Very well. You’re in luck. I am in command of many brothers, and our… Specialty allows us a unique perspective into the nature of illness. We can bring all the aid these mortals needs. But in exchange, you will come with me, without fuss, without fighting. I have never met a perpetual before, except for the Emperor Himself, and I am… Curious.} Teh Atartes rumbles, his mind still wrapped tight around yours. 

You sense he has a number of motives he is hiding from you… But you’re also quite certain that he believes that he is telling the truth when he says that he can help the mortals suffering and agonizing in rotting, miserable stasis all around you. {Yes, I promise to go with you and your brothers without fuss after the people here are healed and well taken care of.}

The pleased rumble he makes and the way his mind caresses yours before letting you go back to your own mind makes you shiver and warmth suffuse through you {I look forward to our meeting, perpetual. You will know when I arrive with my brothers. If my younger brothers give you trouble, tell them that Typhus asked you, little Isha, to come to him.}

You’re not sure why his name - and the name Isha - bother you.  Warning bells ring faintly in the back of your mind, but you can’t quite place why. That and the desperation to get actual help fuels your relief {I understand. About when do you anticipate on arriving?}

{Again, you’re in luck, lovely flower. I and my brothers should arrive within the next month. Two on the outside, if the Inquisitors at the edges of the system you are in actually prove troublesome.} The astartes promises. Something buzzes beneath the surface of his mind, but you do not press, grateful beyond words for his aid. His mind squeezes around your tightly. His rifling through your memories is a little rough, and catches you off, as he gets from you where you are in the galaxy. {Yes, I will be there soon. The mortals’ torments will soon be at an end. You should return to your body, I can sense your exhaustion.}

You grumble a little to yourself, but he’s not wrong. This kind of extended mental contact with another person over such long distances in space is wearing on you. You withdraw from his mind and tumble back into your own body before exhaustion drags you into sleep.

“My lady! My lady, Lord Angels have arrived, and have been distributing food and medical aid to the sick and injured. They… Their armor is rather terrifying, I’ll admit, but their aid has been nothing but true and good. Their first captain has asked to speak with you, as soon as you are able.” Your second in command called out, between knocking rapidly on the door to your personal quarters, waking you out of the troubled dream that had been tormenting you.

Gilded flames had lapped at your feet, threatening to consume your body as creeping green rot choked your lungs and turned the mortals you’d been working alongside to agonized piles of mush and misery. You mentally shook yourself as you respond “I’ll be out to meet him as soon as I get dressed properly! Tell him I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

You’re already stumbling out of bed and over to your extensive clothes’ closet. Considering the direness of the situation, you hope that the lord angel would forgive the fact that you’re going to be wearing simple clothes beneath the hazmat suit that while you do not need, you wear anyways when going outside, so as to not bring the disease back and potentially infect the mortal crew around you. You pick out a simple shirt and pants combo, along with sensible lslhoes that will fit inside the boots of the hazmat suit, not bothering with any make-up or jewelry, dressed well enough in under five minutes.

It takes three minutes for your to sprint your way through the ship, everyone else clearing way for you to get to the cargo hold, slugging back a small shot of recaff and breakfast rations handed to you by your SIC just before you get suited up into the hazmat suit (Which takes most of the remaining time you told the first captain you’d need to be ready to see him). Just as you step out of your ship, you ask your loyal and stalwart second in command “Which chapter are they from?” Depending on which chapter they were from, you could have a guess as to what the first captain might want of you.

“They say that they are part of the Death Guard legion, ma’am.” Your second in command revealed, oblivious to the bone-deep panic and horror washing through you. “I don’t recognize their markings or heraldry, but they’ve been an enormous boon so far.”

No! No no no… “Have any of you taken anything that he Death Guard has offered you? No matter how small?” You ask, terror and failure acrid tastes in your mouth. How had you not noticed the taint of chaos in his mind at the time? 

“Not yet, as our stores have been fine. Is something wrong, ma’am?” He asks, a worried frown appearing on his face. He can see the fear in your face.

Damn, need to work on your mask, which you quickly put on, radiating confidence “OH… I just… don’t accept anything they give you,  if possible. As soon as I start talking to the first captain, take off and activate the warp drive and get as far away from this system as possible. I can… I can guess what they want with me, and as of now, I am resigning my duties as a Rogue Trader. Everything I own, all of my titles, rights and responsibilities I bequeath to you. FLy far, and fly well.”

“W.. What? My lady? I won’t just leave you-” He splutters. 

You shake your head angrily and hiss “I was the one who contacted them, believing them to be angels! But they are not! They are demons! They feed on  illness and misery, delighting in strive and causing Chaos wherever they go. I have gotten their foul attention and cannot escape, but you and our crew have a chance to escape. Please, take it. I will endure.” 

“I… As you command, my lady. I’ll begin preparations to leave now.” Your former second in command acknowledges, bowing his head forward, trembling a little in the fear that you can’t allow yourself to feel as you leave your ship, walking toward your grim fate with your head held high, despite your trembling hands.

[yuseirra]

I've been thinking over this god thing over and there's another idea I have related to it!

Earlier I've said that ame-no-uzume(god of the arts) and her husband sarutahiko(the great bright god) may be related to Ai and Hikaru.

Their story might also have been inspired from Izanagi and Izanami and they're very famous, so I believe I wouldn't have to explain a whole lot, (and I bet there are people who know it in more depth) but.. Izanagi and Izanami (the creator gods of Japanese Mythology) have Amaterasu(the sun god), Tsukuyomi(the moon god) and Susanoo(the god of the sea and storms) as their children. Ruby has something to do with Amaterasu and we have a girl who goes by Tsukuyomi as a character, Aqua, with the full name being "Aquamarine" has a name that has to do with the sea.

The reason I've brought this up is because of the lore between Izanagi and Izanami. Izanami dies, and Izanagi tries to bring her back to life but fails. It rings a bell, right?

Yes, this story of theirs also aligns with the things that have been mentioned in Mephisto and Fatal. Those songs revolve around a person who desperately wants to meet their love again (who's likely passed away) but cannot.

I've been wondering just why the ED's title was named Mephisto. Mephisto is the name of the devil, right? When you have a wish and the devil in the same picture, it means there's some kind of pact.

If the person singing in the song's been kamiki (which I've been pretty much stressing over and over through multiple posts now) it'd mean he's had gone through something like that too, to revive the one he loves.

This could be why there is a "stage" that's mentioned in BOTH of the songs, he's in a deal that he can't back out from.

この舞台で足掻くことをやめない

I will not stop to struggle on this stage(Fatal)

だけどステージが逃がさない いついつまでも憧れ　焦がれているよ

But the stage won’t let go I'll keep yearning and longing forever(Mephisto)

At this point, I'm so sure kamiki HAS done something to bring Ai back. He's made some sort of sacrifice for Ai it seems, he's probably made wishes regarding it, that come with a price but he didn't really care about his life in the first place after she's gone so he was willing to risk it. The efforts were probably in vain, though. But it could be really close to being granted if something's "filled in"

あなたがいないと生きていけない 何もかも捧げてしまってもいい あなたの愛がまだ足らない 欠けたものは何で埋めたらいい？

Without you, I cannot live anymore I would sacrifice anything for you I can’t get enough of your love What should I use to fill in what’s missing?(Fatal)

compared to Mephisto, Fatal seems more.. eager? energetic? but in an insane way. The speaker is actively doing something to fulfill their end goal. That's why I feel kamiki's missions are probably close to finish- he's all right with dying after having completed it

but in ch 154 he's heard that Ai wants to "help him" along with her children. and that she loved him dearly. This is going to leave him so devastated and conflicted lol because he's probably way past hope at this point. He can't be saved. He can't fulfill what Ai wants, that's going to make him very miserable. That's my guess. It's like everything he's doing had him stray even further off from what Ai wants.

Or it could be that he can't give up on Ai EVEN MORE now since he KNOWS that she loves him back too. Who'd give up on someone like that? She was like the only person who understood him and loved him. I can totally see why he couldn't let her go after all these years (may it be twisted. there is still some ambiguity in his words and we can be backstabbed) she was the one for him and he was to her, too, at least that's how he's felt when they were together. So he'd do ANYTHING for her. That lines up very well with those lyrics too.

So yeah. If my speculations are right Kamiki's so doomed... and doomed because of all the things he did that he thought was for Ai. Aligns with the respective mythologies too~.. I'd be surprised if these have NOTHING to do with the plot that's going to be revealed in the future because it just WORKS. It starts making so much sense to me.

[burr-ell]

Honestly, it feels really good seeing Claude fan who also happens to love Lady Rhea. There's really not enough of us

Sending love 💛💚

anon this warmed my heart so much im gonna give u a snippet from the claude & rhea friendship fic i never got around to finishing <3

He took a deep breath and knocked.

“Enter.”

He opened the door and stepped into the archbishop’s chambers. The atmosphere was surprisingly soothing, sunlight streaming through the windows and a floral perfume permeating the air. Rhea was sitting up in her nice, if plain-looking, canopy bed, resting against a couple of squashy pillows with a teacup and a book on the bedside table.

“You wished to see me, Claude?” she asked.

“I did.”

“I take it you have further questions?”

“Thought I’d come to pick your brain,” he said easily. “You’re the only one who’s ever taken on Nemesis directly. We need all the help we can get straight from the source.”

Rhea smiled, almost unnervingly genuine. “I can advise you, provided we discuss what’s really on your mind first.”

He’d expected her to be able to disarm him, but he hadn’t expected her to be so pleasant about it. Still, he was nothing if not nimble. “That easy to read, am I?”

“Not at all, actually. Seteth has often complained of it to me.” Her eyes flicked upward, a practiced gesture of exasperated fondness. “But do not forget that I have been in hiding for over a thousand years. There are many skills I lack, but I can detect a master of the craft.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the same playing field.”

Rhea sighed. “I cannot force you to lower your guard, nor do I expect it, but…please, at least have a seat.”

She gestured to the chair next to her bed, and Claude seated himself, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I gather you would still like to know more of the story of your professor.”

“There are still so many things that Byl—Teach still doesn’t know.”

“Including that you are here speaking with me.”

Claude nodded—he’d have been more surprised if she hadn’t guessed. “I didn’t want to worry her. And I think…she needs time before she can speak to you objectively.”

Rhea heaved a sigh, tipping her head back against the bed frame. “I understand. I—I gave you both quite enough information to take in. And…and she must be feeling…I cannot possibly understand what.”

“Neither can she.” He was careful to keep his tone neutral, but it was hard not to be accusatory.

“I owe her many apologies,” Rhea said softly. “Apologies that I cannot expect her to accept.”

“I can’t speak to where her head’s at right now,” Claude said slowly (honestly, Byleth’s head was still an enigma to him sometimes), “but I don’t think she’s—angry. She’s just…” He pressed his lips together in thought, then continued. “She’s spent her whole life being treated like a tool. And then she came here and sort of…found herself. And then she found out that someone who helped make that happen also wanted to use her.” He would know. He’d done the very same thing, before he’d gotten to know his best friend. His…well.

Rhea closed her eyes miserably. “I know. I have greatly wronged her.”

“She also understands why you did it,” Claude continued, “and why you kept it a secret. It’s just…a lot to process. Especially for someone who for so long didn’t even understand how to really feel anything.”

“And what about you?”

Claude tipped his head. “Me?”

Rhea frowned. “You are known for your inquisitiveness, and your thirst for knowledge. Yet you did little to question what I revealed to you. Why?”

Claude propped his chin in one hand, rubbing his lip thoughtfully with his index finger. “Honestly…what you told us made everything I’d been looking at for five years click into place. Just looking at the Relics alone, knowing what we know, and you can tell they’re made of—y’know.”

Rhea nodded, in a resigned sort of way.

“But if you don’t know the full story,” Claude went on, “you might not really think about it. Most people can’t use them, and they’re kept hidden away when they’re not being wielded. Even I didn’t get a look at Failnaught until my grandfather actually passed and I inherited the estate.”

Churning insides were nothing new to Claude, having dealt with them both naturally and otherwise, but even mentioning the bow was making him a bit queasy. How he’d yearned for the chance to wield it, knowing it would give him the opportunity to study it up close and grant him the power to achieve his greatest dreams, and now…

“It all makes sense now,” he continued softly. “I’ve never heard of something so horrific. And the way Seteth and Flayn are so secretive, and how upset Seteth was when Flayn went missing…” He paused, mulling over whether to reveal this particular piece of information—but it was unlikely that Rhea hadn’t seen such a thing coming, and at any rate, in light of all she’d shared with them, she deserved as full a story as he could give in return. “Seteth once confiscated a diagram I was showing Teach, of a creature called The Immaculate One. It had already given me some clues about Crest stones and Relics. At the time I thought it was because the church had something to hide…and in a way, I was right. And now I know that he was right to take it.”

Claude leaned a little closer, meeting Rhea’s eyes and their combined relief and sorrow. It was an expression he knew well—of finally finding someone who understood. “I didn’t even think to say it before. I am so, so sorry, for everything that happened to you. No one deserves to live in fear just because of who they are.”

“You…” Rhea swallowed thickly, eyes misting. Claude fell silent and averted his gaze, giving her a moment to regain her composure.

She took a deep breath. “Your words touch my heart—truly, they do. Yours is a perspective gained from cruel experience.”

She knew. Or at least she’d guessed. It was unsurprising, really, but he couldn’t help the thrill of anxiety pulsing in the back of his mind. Even so…there was an odd kinship here, one he didn’t even feel with Byleth when they discussed it, that kept his panic at bay. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I do. I know better than most people what it’s like to be resented and hated for being who I am. And what I’ve been through…it can’t even compare to what happened to you, and Seteth and Flayn.”

Rhea smiled, eyes still watery. “Such things are not competitive. At the end of it all, there are others who understand.”

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

The Tour XII

Warning: swearing, drinking, smut, angst

You’re not sure if it’s out of annoyance or he genuinely wants to but as soon as Colson strides back into the green room, he suggests we all go out and get shit faced. Everyone jumps at the idea and begins discussing places to go, who to invite, what time to go. You listen to the hum of conversation around you, enjoying the fact that no one knows Colson was on his knees half an hour ago. The thought makes your pussy pulse and you cross your legs tightly. Ashleigh and Sophie begin planning outfits and deciding what to do for their makeup and hair. Sophie insists on glamming you up for the occasion as there will definitely be paparazzi and people in the club taking photos. You reluctantly agree and the three of you head back to the hotel to get ready.

“So how did you end up in my clothes after the concert tonight?” Sophie asks as she finishes curling your hair. You look at her face in the reflection of the mirror and instantly blush.

“I spilt something on my clothes,” you mutter, looking away from her to sip your homemade cocktail.

“I call bullshit,” Ashleigh calls from the bedroom behind you. As much as you hate their prying, you love that they both know you well enough to tell when you’re lying.

“Ok but swear to me that you won’t say anything, ok?” you beg with pleading eyes.

Ashleigh is suddenly in the bathroom beside Sophie when you turn on your chair to speak. You don’t really know where to start but you figure you should probably start from the beginning, considering neither of them know the full extent of what the fuck has been going on with Colson and you. You take a deep, steadying breath, square your shoulders and look up at your two best friends.

“Colson and I have been hooking up secretly since the start of the tour,” you don’t wait for them to react before quickly continuing. “When I asked that we put some rules in place, he was a dick, we stopped and I thought that was the end of it. Then he went and made it all confusing by being an asshole to Chase, storming into my hotel room when clearly we went in there to be alone. What made it even more confusing was the fact that he went and apologised for all his shitty behaviour.”

“Classic Kells, act first and think second,” Ashleigh shakes her head with a sigh. You couldn’t possibly agree with her more.

“Yeah well, I made it worse by accepting his apology because he seemed to believe that meant we could go back to hooking up but I shut him down.”

“And how did he take that?” Sophie gives you an all knowing smile and you sink back into your seat with shame.

“You saw how he took it. I ended up making out with him on the bus, remember?” they nod, remembering exactly what you’re talking about because they both walked in on said make out with Rook. “I just didn’t want to get sucked in anymore so I thought that if I forced him to leave me alone, things would go back to normal eventually but instead, I just made things worse.”

“Hey, you can’t blame yourself for this whole thing. Kells is just as much involved as you are except he knows how to put on an act. The fact that he’s choosing not to is more a reflection on him than it is on you,” Ashleigh reassures you but somehow you can’t seem to see things the way she does. Your sole purpose for being here is to keep him in check and you’re failing miserably, according to Francis and Kathy anyway. 

You stand up and push your way past them to the clothes Sophie has laid out on the bed for you. It’s not your usual style but you know you have to trust the process when it comes to her choices. Most of the time what she picks out works in your favour but you have to push through the initial shock to see it. This time is no exception.

Laid on the bed is a tight fitting black long sleeve top with a turtleneck, a faux leather skirt with a silver zipper running up the front and black satin thigh high boots. If anyone else suggested this outfit to you, you’d laugh in their face but for some reason when Sophie does, you go with it without question. Still, you grimace internally at the short length of the skirt.

“You still didn’t answer my question though,” Sophie sits you on the bed to start on fixing your makeup now that your hair is done.

“I forgot what the question was,” you lie and you know you don’t fool either of them. Sophie raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow at you and you buckle. “I got wet when I stepped into Colson’s shower and he…ate me out.” you blush a bright red and focus on looking anywhere but at the two of them.

“You are a fucking queen,” Sophie praises you and Ashleigh cheers.

“To a fucking queen!” Ash toasts, raising her solo cup in the air and throwing the entire contents back in one gulp.

They drop the topic after that. You’re not sure if it’s because they sense your discomfort or because they want to maintain your privacy or both but you’re grateful. As much as you love your best friends, you’ve never really been the kiss and tell kind of person, especially when you’re not even really sure what to classify Colson and you at the moment. It feels wrong to be sharing every gory detail, even if they are his friends too. 

When your makeup is done, you’ve almost finished an entire bottle of wine and you’ve put the intimidating outfit on, it’s time to meet the guys in the lobby. Ashleigh snaps a few pics of the three of you in the elevator for Instagram and you’re actually really starting to like how the outfit looks on you. When you step into the lobby and all the guys catcall you, you like the outfit even more. 

You look around and notice that Colson is missing but Rook assures the group that he’s on his way down. When the elevator dings and Colson steps out, your heart stutters in your chest. Even though you’re trying so hard to be indifferent to him, you can’t help but be flawed every time you see him. His bleach blonde hair, his angular jaw and sharp cheekbones, the way his eyes flicker different shades depending on the lighting of the room, his pink lips always set in a slight pout, the way his nose ring catches in the light. The thing that stands out to you the most though, is his intimidating height. When he walks into a room, everyone knows it because he stands at least a foot taller than most people. There’s something about his tall stature that makes you want to forget your inhibitions and climb him like a tree.

“Let’s fucking party,” he grins at the guys and begins walking through the lobby. 

You try your best to stand off to the side and out of his line of sight but Sophie and Ashleigh link their arms with you and drag you with them, making damn sure they get his attention in the process. You can’t help but enjoy the way his eyes bulge slightly as he takes you in. You also like the way you notice him adjusting his dick uncomfortably without drawing any attention to what he’s doing but you know.

There’s a couple of black vans waiting for you all outside. Sophie, Asleigh and you all pile into one of the vans, letting the guys work out who is going in each one. You can’t help the butterflies in your stomach when Colson climbs into the same van as you but they tamper down when he pushes his way to the back, away from you. Ashleigh doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, dragging you into a conversation about the club.

Why the fuck is she dressed like that?

Colson’s already pent up frustration is at a boiling point as he studies your smooth thigh from the back of the van. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you left him high and hard after the concert, now you have to go teasing him with your curves, breasts on full display in your tight top and sexy legs all exposed in your short skirt. Not to mention those boots. He’d pay a lot of money to have you in his room in just those boots. Rook is so invested in what he’s saying that he doesn’t even notice you’ve barely said a word and you’re grateful. This is going to be a long fucking night.

Colson peels his eyes away from you when the van comes to a stop and he can finally free himself. The smell of your perfume is filling his senses and it’s intoxicating enough that he’s not sure he can control himself. When he steps out of the van, he’s immediately greeted by the flash of cameras. A couple of bouncers from the club push their way through and escort you past the paparazzi. Colson has to resist the urge to turn around and make sure you’re ok. He knows that Rook will be standing on one side of you to protect you from the bodies trying to push their way towards you all, holding you to his side.

Lucky bastard.

When you all get into the club a manager with too much cologne and greasy hair directs everyone straight to a VIP section in the back. It sits on a raised platform that gives just enough leverage to see the dancefloor but not so much that it looks like a stage for everyone to gawk at. The lighting is slightly darker in the space, creating shadows in the corners of the couches for privacy. Colson immediately orders a shit ton of drinks, wanting to make sure he’s completely numb so he doesn’t think about you. Easier said than done if you weren’t three feet from him and looking like sex on legs.

When did I start fucking pining?

This was completely new territory for him. He was used to having women throw themselves at him so when you came along and said ‘thanks but no thanks’ it flipped everything upside down for him and he didn’t like it. He was always in control, he didn’t like giving that up for anybody. For you though, maybe he could make an exception.

You loved this club! The music was a mix of all your favourite artists and the DJ didn’t feel the need to constantly interrupt the tracks but talking over the lyrics with dumb catchphrases or shit singing. The dance floor was crowded but not suffocating and there didn’t appear to be many creepy men trying to grind up on unsuspecting women. Colson had ordered several rounds of shots and you were buzzed. You dragged Sophie to the dancefloor and you were so busy enjoying yourself, you barely even felt the pain in your feet from the heels. You’re sure the alcohol probably helped with that.

You were surprised that even the guys decided to join you all on the dance floor but it was entertaining watching Rook and Colson dance some ridiculous ‘routine’ they’d obviously come up with years ago. They adjusted the tempo to each song but the moves were still the same. A lot more shimming than you’re used to seeing two grown men do but entertaining nonetheless. 

When an RnB track begins and the beat slows, your own dance moves change. You go from jumping around to grinding and swaying your hips to the beat. You don’t resist when Colson moves closer to you, you like feeling his chest against your arm. You let the music take you. You turn your body so that you’re facing him, winding an arm behind his neck. He presses himself to you and you can feel his arousal through his tight pants. You both sway to the music, his hands on your hips determining your movements. You turn so your ass is right against his crotch. You grind so hard against him, you’re practically dry humping him in the middle of the club. His face is buried in your neck and you can feel the vibration every time he moans. 

You’re enjoying yourself way too much but as quickly as it begins, the song changes and a boppy pop song begins to play. You pull yourself away from Colson and return to dancing with Ashleigh and Sophie, Baze and Slim exchange a look but you ignore that. Colson’s glare is so intense, you’re pretty sure he’s plotting your death but you couldn’t care less. 

You’re drunk enough that you’re happy but not so drunk you’re going to be sick. It’s a fun balance that you’re not mad about. When you stumble into the silent lobby with Rook, the two of you are in such loud fits of laughter that the night manager shushes you from behind the desk. You giggle an apology to him and all the others scold the two of you. Colson trails behind the group like a sad puppy but you don’t really notice. 

You make it to your floor and everyone piles out, mumbling good nights to each other as you each stop at your respective doors. 

You’re the last one in the hallway because you’re searching through your clutch for your room key with one eye closed, at least you think you’re alone. Colson grips your wrist and drags you into his room, slamming the door behind him. 

“What do I have to do to get you to let me fuck you?!” he growls angrily and you stumble back from the volume of his voice. 

“I…” you start but you don’t really know how to end the sentence so you stop to think for a moment. An idea dawns on you and you grin evilly. “Beg,” you whisper seductively. 

“W-what?” Colson is staring at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“You heard me, I want you to beg for me to fuck you, right here, right now.” 

You’re practically purring in his ear now. Your tongue flicks his earlobe every now again for emphasis. You can tell it’s bringing him to his knees as he sways again. Sweet, innocent you commanding devilish him to beg for your affections? Unheard of. 

“Please baby, I need you,” he whines and you smile against his neck. 

“What do you need?” you kiss his jawline.

“Your…dripping wet pussy on my throbbing cock while you scream my name.”

You didn’t expect something so dirty to come out of his mouth and you can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks. You’d think after reading so many dirty novels that you could control your reactions but you know that there is a huge difference between reading a fictional character and actually listening to a living, breathing guy saying it. Especially when it’s a guy like Colson and especially when he’s saying those things about you.

“Demanding thing aren’t you?” you tease him with a tight smile. 

If he knew how much you were throbbing for him, your control would be revoked and you’d be putty in his hands. You trail your fingertips down his chest and he watches the path they lead to the hem of his t-shirt. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was panting with anticipation. You want to tease him but the aching between your legs is begging you to stop being so damn cruel to her. When you lift his top and scrape your nails over his ‘Almost Famous’ tattoo, he all but falls to his knees in front of you.

“Please?” Colson whispers against the shell of your ear and you know exactly what he wants.

You cup his growing erection in the palm of your hand and gently rub against his jeans. He lets out a shuddering breath and throws his head back, resting himself against the door. You watch as he all but crumbles in front of you. A mixture of pleasure and relief plastered across his face but then anguish. You pull your hand back and cup it against your chest protectively.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” you mutter and step away from him, he follows you though.

“No, please don’t stop,” he’s begging you again but this time, you’re not enjoying it. 

Your vagina is cursing you out but you tune her out. Every time you try to get some distance between you and Colson, he follows. You end up jumping across the bed so that he can’t follow you. You hold up your hand to halt him and even in the dim light from the lamp, you can see the hurt in his eyes. You know you’re being cruel and confusing but you can’t help it. You have questions you need answered and half drunk and horny Colson is the only one that will give them to you.

“What is this?” you wave a hand between the two of you and he groans.

“Why do you women need everything defined?” he scrubs his hands over his face and sits on the floor with a huff. “Just enjoy the goddamn moment and be grateful.”

“Grateful for you? I don’t fucking think so.” for the second time tonight, Colson looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Who’d be grateful for a selfish, moody, cruel man like you? One minute you’re warm and gentle and the next you’re giving everyone that ‘fuck off’ attitude you’ve perfected and not talking to anyone for days. You’ve made Ashleigh’s life a living hell over the last few months and you could care less,” he winces but you’re not finished. “One of your oldest friends in the world and all you’ve done is be an asshole to her for no good reason.”

“Fuck you! Just because you don’t know the reason, doesn’t mean it’s not a good one,” he spits at you and you step back like he’s pushed you.

“Ok, fine then. What’s the perfectly justified reason for why you’ve been such an asshole to everyone? Why have you been drinking, screwing and snorting your way to an early grave no matter who it hurts?”

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE!” he screams and jumps to his feet. 

You’ve seen Colson get mad, hell you’ve seen him in fights with actual punches and blood, but this mad is so different. He practically morphes into a new person before your eyes and it terrifies you. You try to not show it but you can tell by the way he tries to calm himself that he notices your fear.

“I…I never thought I’d be the guy whose happiness depends on another person but when she left, I couldn’t shut the voices up.” 

By ‘she’, you can only assume he’s referring to his ex fiance Megan who left him for her ex-husband and to be honest, he’d made it seem like the whole thing didn’t bother him. No one was stupid enough to believe him but given that he pretty much jumped back into single life and didn’t start acting out until 12 months after their break up, everyone assumed the two were unrelated. You should’ve known better and you feel guilty that you didn’t.

“I thought you didn’t care,” you whisper but then you smack yourself for saying something so dumb.

“To be honest, I didn’t. We hadn’t been happy for a long time and I was relieved when she ended things. The anxiety started when I asked myself one question ‘why wasn’t she happy with me?’ and then ‘what’s wrong with me?’. It just played on some already pretty strong insecurities.”

It made sense. You’d gone through enough break ups to know that even if it’s the most amicable break up in the history of break ups, you always end up asking yourself those exact same questions and sometimes the unknown will eat you up inside. You have this uncontrollable thought that you’re the problem, that one particular thing you did, what it was you’ll never know, pushed that person to stop loving you. Makes them realise you’re not right for them, not good enough for them, not desirable enough for them. If you don’t have strong-will and a little bit of self-confidence and esteem, the thoughts become all consuming and you never open yourself up to anyone ever again.

“There were other issues that already existed so I’m not blaming everything on that but I thought if I pushed people away, I could at least minimise the damage.”

“What were the other things?” you ask before you can stop yourself and judging by the look on his face, you don’t want to know the answer.

“You,” he whispers and your breath stills.

****************

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@mgklove99xx