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hoshigray · 18 days

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𝐂𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | s. gojō + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Three powerful empires, two childhood companions, and one you. What is supposed to be a peaceful alliance is slowly turning into a rocky relationship between royal friends...Is there any way you can save it?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo + true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - royal-like + fantasy AU! - porn with plot - Gojo + reader is age 28 + Sukuna is older; mid-30s - mutual pining + confessions - size differences - threesome - double penetration; anal & vaginal - virginity loss - fingering (f! receiving) - back-to-chest + cowgirl dp positions - clitoral play - cerfix-fucking - overstimulation - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, dove, human, little one, pet, sweetie) - marriage proposals - cameos: Utahime and Miwa - Gojo and Sukuna can't stand each other, obvi - humor + drama - mention of drool, blood, spit and tears - will be proofread later.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15.4k words (BRUH, i hate it here.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: aight, after 10 whole months, it's FINALLY dropped! this took foreverrrr, ughhhh. anyways, sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy this one, and thanks again for 11.2k starlings, ilysmmm!! ☆☆

“…”

“—y Lady…My Lady!”

“Huh?” You blink and face the door where the voice is coming from. “Oh, I’m sorry, Utahime. You can come in.”

“Jeez, I was knocking for a whole minute.” Your lady-in-waiting, Utahime, closes the door behind her when entering your chambers, walking up to where you were sitting by the mirror. “And I thought I told you to refer to me by my last name, my Lady.”

You smile at the reflection of the other coming behind you, kneeling and readying the iron basin filled with warm water and rose petals. Her hand and the washcloth swish the surface for the floral scents to enter your nostrils. “Well, we’ve been friends for how long? I’ve referred to you by your first name for all my life, even before you became my handmaiden.”

“Hmph, even then,” Utahime scoffs before taking your feet and dipping them in the warm water. “You don’t see me dare call the sole, precious child of this empire’s greatest warrior by their given name.”

“No, but I always tell you I don’t mind. Besides, you usually do it when we’re alone, and that’s enough for me.”

“If that’s what makes my Lady hap—“

“It does.” You look at her with a pleasant aura, and the dark-haired one snickers before straining the washcloth.

“As you wish…Y/n.” You puff your chest with satisfaction; however, your handmaiden isn’t done talking, “But I know the matter of my name isn’t something that’s having you lost in your thoughts.” Her observation takes you slightly aback, and her brown orbs peer up to capture your attention. “Would you like to tell me what’s corrupting your mind?”

With a heavy sigh, your back touches the chair as you slouch. Your eyes glance to the open window as the blinds drift gently with the calm wind. The swaying motions of the curtains almost convince your stress to wither away along with the quietness. Almost.

“Utahime,” you begin with her name, still facing the window. “…What do you think about Lord Satoru Gojo?”

“Tch,” you didn’t have to turn to know that the woman had the most disgusted expression, the click of her teeth was telling. “What is there to think?”

“Hehe, well, we’ve known each other since we could walk—“

“Yeah, and — pardon me, my Lady — but that bastard is such a nuisance, even if he just became the crowned heir of the Gojo bloodline and the holder of the Six Eyes.” The dark-haired woman scrubs your feet with vigor, but you don’t say anything, containing your laughter. “That man–ugh! Every time he visits the palace, he will never stop teasing me for deciding to leave my family and become your lady-in-waiting. Who does he think he is!”

The laugh you try to hinder seeps out in hushed giggles. “Well—ahem—what about Lord Ryomen?”

Utagime stops her hand and washcloth between your toes, her face in your direction. Both brows trenched with a thin line of her mouth. “……As of recent…Scary–no, intimidating would be an understatement...my Lady, perhaps the visit and stay of the two lords is what have you down?”

Another heavy sigh, “I guess that would be the case…”

You reside in the founding empire of the great continent. In the ancient past, it is said that the Great Saint Tengen came from the heavens and blessed this world with miracles, living in the country that you’re standing in right now. It was said that Tengen was the benevolent child of Gods and the Parent of Beings who graced everyone – both human and non – with compassion, kindness, and love through their sorcery. When they disappeared, the world fell into a divide, their people sticking amongst themselves while following the teachings and words of Saint Tengen.

As the centuries came following this tale, the countries of this world have maintained a relatively peaceful union. However, the main continent – your continent – is home to three major empires: the North, the East, and the West. As mentioned before, you live in the founding Western nation, also known as the homeland of Tengen.

You are a royal of this land and the sole heir to the throne right after your father, a mighty war soldier and sorcerer respected by his people and allies. As the crowned king of the Western capital, your father has done his job in using his strong leadership to maintain a functional structure for the people, using his wisdom to tread on matters with a tranquil mind, and making decisions that would not only benefit his own people but also his allies. Sometimes, you forget that such a great man could be your father. Yet his undying love for you, his sole child and princess, proves how lucky you are.

In the Northern Lands above are known as the land of Sorcery. Your father may be a powerful sorcerer, but the empire he rules does not harbor the majority of the population who practice sorcery (or lack thereof). That would go to the snowy Northern Empire, a land where many of Tengen’s scholars and practitioners have come from and implemented their teachings. The current head of this nation is bestowed to the affluent House Gojo, who recently crowned their heir after the death of its late king. Satoru Gojo, the first royal after a century gifted with two of the most intense abilities made by Saint Tengen – the Six Eyes and Limitless – sits on the Northern throne. And is also a dear family friend.

To the East lies a country mostly comprised of harsh deserts and dangerous forests, filled with creatures that aren’t of the human imagination. Once referred to as the land of “Tengen’s True Children,” the eastern empire is known worldwide as the Demon Country. Creatures reside in this part, beings that can easily overpower the average human – or worse, kill. They are ruled by the King of Demons, Sukuna Ryomen. As the scariest, cold-hearted, and violent beast of the empire, Sukuna is regarded as Tengen’s “Fallen Star,” a soul that embodies the precise opposite nature of the saint. And yet, this brutal master is also a cherished companion in the company of you and your father.

“What about their visits seems to make you upset?” Utahime lifts the bottom of your nightgown to scrub further up, the warm, damp towel scraping the skin of your left femur.

“I don’t know…I suppose it’s because things are different than a decade and a half ago.” It was one way of speaking the truth.

“Why, of course, things would be different now. You expect I’d be looking after a tiny heir all my life?” She giggles. “Although, that would be quite nice.”

“Oh, to be young forever would be a treat, wouldn’t it?” You add on to her humor. “Yet, that’s not what I meant. It’s been so long since the three of us been in this palace together – let alone in any space together. The War of the Blood and Magic has been ongoing for years now. Whenever my father wishes to speak with them about an issue, one must be here while the other is in their respective territory.“

“Mmm, I have observed that…But still, even with this war going on, it shouldn’t negate the fact that you three have been friends for so long. I still remember the day young Gojo came to the garden where you and I were making flower crowns.“

You smile at the memory. “I remember how upset you were when he grabbed my hand one day and took us to his guest room to show his Limitless.”

You try your hardest to keep in your laughter when she glares up at you – not at you, but at the recollection instead. “That fool, even as a child, knows nothing of boundaries. He was a bright boy — still is, I’ll give him that. But my Gods, the way he would do everything in his power to impress you was so cocky of a young lord, especially in the presence of the next heir to the continent. The nerve of him…And then! The time he had the nerve to question me when I told you I wanted to be your handmaiden. That little blue-eyed weasel said, ‘You? The daughter of a mediocre house, as the princess’ personal maid? You should try and aim lower or marry someone who’d tolerate your un-ladylike attitude.’ I was too stunned to speak…I should’ve choked his ass out!”

“—Pfffthahaha, stop, you’re scrubbing too hard!” You halt your lady-in-waiting with stiffened giggles, the poor woman sighing for displaying such aggression unbefitting for her title. “You could never stand him, and to think I thought you had a crush on him.”

“Please, my Lady, never say that aloud, or else my father would try to make my worst nightmare become reality.” She shakes her head, putting your left leg into the basin and switching to the right.

“And the day I introduced you as my maid to him, you had the smugest smirk that couldn’t be wiped off that night.”

“You’re goddamn right, my Lady!” That coarse remark had the both of you in a fit of cackles, water damn near splashing out as you wiggle your legs. “Ahhhh, but those were the days. I believe Lord Ryomen came into the picture after that. I remember the first day your father accepted the young demon king’s wish to seek an audience; he was a bit shorter than his current eight-foot-tall stature. Four arms were tiny like a teenager, and his,” she waves a hand up and down over the left side of her face. “This was distinguishable.”

You hum along with the description of the once young teenage demon king. “His human mother died during childbirth, and his father a demon who was exorcised for impregnating the poor woman. He was the first hybrid sorcerer of his time to utilize sorcery with the dark techniques of demon arts, becoming the most powerful and making a name for himself in the Eastern empire. He was alongside my father during the Great Demon War, using his powers to take down opposing cursed forces from outside nations. The two earned each other’s respect – more on my father’s part.”

“That, he was…truly a hard one to read, outside of always looking like he’d cut something out of boredom. I worried for the day he’d catch sight of me looking at him the wrong way and slice my throat,” the mere thought of the deadly being’s scowl was enough to send goosebumps up Utahime’s way. “Even the spars he had with your father and Gojo, I’m amazed to see this palace still standing in one piece.”

“Hehe, imagine how I felt when he’d catch me watching and then pull me aside to train with him — not asking, demanding that he teaches me how to wield a weapon.”

“Ohhh, my Lady, my nerves were never calm whenever he instructed you. Fearing for your life was my biggest sport. He couldn’t stand the fact that the sole heir of the greatest warrior didn’t have the drive to wield and charge.” She places your other leg down, rinsing the washcloth with more water before asking for your right arm. “It’s not like your father ever dared to entertain the thought of you entering battle anyway! That man, truly a scary thing…”

You throw your head back, resting it on the rail of the chair. “For my eighteenth year, he gifted me my own sword — handmade and light for my hands.”

“Men.” Utahime shakes her head once again. “Yet, despite how odd he and Gojo are, they seemed at ease whenever you were around. Whether it be visits from them to discuss with the King or attending events here at the palace, those two acted a lot more…calm.”

Her observations stuck with you, closing your eyes to think more. “I only wonder if we could revert to those days when we were close. Unfortunately, with this current war between the two, this vision is impossible to imagine….”

You and the two lords have been friends for years – decades, even. And you were no fool; it was apparent that this relationship would dwell into something less familiar once the two become distant. And the war between the two empires proves this statement true…

It was your twenty-fourth year when you heard the news of the War of Blood and Magic. A year prior, an incident in the northern empire occurred where a sorcerer and his company were butchered by invading demons. Enraged, many men would go down to the demon continent to pillage and exorcise demon villages and towns as a form of justice. However, it only sparked the increasing tension between the factions into a conflict past the phase of talk and civilized words.

Taking matters into his own hands, Sukuna found the men responsible for the rampage and had their bodies sliced within seconds, sending their bloody, severed heads back to the North as his declaration of war. In the coming years after that, there was nothing but ongoing bloodshed between the two; every battle and atrocity shared with your father made you squeamish – not just because of the brutality, but also the loss of Sukuna and Gojo’s relationship with every passing day.

It made you feel sick — powerless in wanting the two to remember their merciful ways and talk like men. But you knew that was child's play — the time for miracles and fairy tales vanished with Tengen. And now, as the fourth year of this constant battle between humans and demons of this continent shows no signs of stopping, your worrying nature is on edge more than ever.

“It may seem impossible to imagine, but it doesn’t mean it’s not worth the execution,” Utahime’s voice rings you back to the present, alternating to your left arm to wipe before dismissing herself from the night. “I’m sure your father believes that as well; otherwise, he wouldn’t have invited the two here for the first time in four years. I think he and all the people of this empire grow worrisome for the fate of this continent if all that’ll be left is a clash between two factions.”

“That may be true,” yet your tone was somber. “But if he can’t convince his two trusted allies to cease this fight, then I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do but see who comes out victorious. And I’d hate to see one stand and the other down in a pool of their blood…”

Utahime hums and lets the silence take over for a few seconds. And then she speaks again, “….Maybe, if not your father, then you should be the one to bring the two together.”

Me? “Me?”

“Yes, my Lady. You may be the princess of the greatest warrior, but you are also the dear friend of his allies. Your word means law to them — they trust your input when asked and see you as a perfect successor in line.”

“But that’s just based on titles and old conversations that don’t hold up to the now…Out of the three of us, I was the one who stayed put in this castle while the others played dirty, severing limbs and creating craters on this sacred continent. We are not children anymore, yet I feel like the one who’s still a naive babe with hands clean.”

“Now that is not true, my Lady!” Fierce brown eyes bore to you. “Just because you don’t have blood on your hands doesn’t make you unfit as a leader. You are the sole child of the King of the Western Empire, the land that Tengen once slept and walked on. That makes you the one next in line after your father.”

“That is my stated birthright—“

“And so!” You held your tongue; she was not done yet. “You have proven that birthright true from what you’ve done so far. I can count on my hands and toes all the times your father came to you for advice on a matter that didn’t sit right with him, knowing that your wisdom and compassion aid your judgment. And let’s not forget how you’ve kept a neutral stance on this issue thus far, knowing it’s the best and safest option for your father and his people. You are his child, after all…What I’m saying is that people change. And that goes the same for you; you’ve become a face I can trust and depend on, and I’m glad to have the right to watch over you until you see fit.”

You knew she meant every word, so you kept silent for her to finish.

“So, I say this with all the genuineness in my heart. I believe you can smack some sense up those two’s minds. You are the princess, but you are a friend above all else. Lord Gojo had just arrived today, leaving Lord Ryomen on his way in three days' time. Express to them how you feel, that you wish for nothing but an end to this bloodshed and to restore whatever’s left to rebuild their past alliance.”

There was nothing wrong with her words; everything was well-spoken with a perspicuous style and valid points. She was your closest friend – no one knew you better than she did. So, there’s no reason to try and find whatever flawed construct that was in her argument.

Finally, after she was done dapping your arm with the washcloth and drying your feet after taking them out of the metal basin, you smiled. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right; I’m your best friend!” Utahime stands with a puffed chest filled with pride, picking up the basin by the handles. “And as the right one, I reckon you should turn in for the night. Leave this matter for tomorrow so the solution you’re looking for will be easier to find.”

“Mmm, your advice is well-received like always.” You stand from the chair, stretching your limbs. When she approaches your door, you bid your handmaiden farewell for the night, “See you in the morning, Utahime.”

With a wink, she parts before shutting the door, “Sleep well and tight, my Lady.”

The warm presence of your friend is missed now that you’re alone in your room. The candles around your chambers exhibit a warm glow that should make you feel safe, but that wasn’t the case today. Even after your night routine, the cold still resided in your skin. You sigh again through your nostrils; the invisible weight on your shoulders makes it impossible to lift them.

You turn back to your mirror – your reflection brings up the conversation with your best friend minutes ago. Examining your features, placing your hand on your cheek to sense your skin, alone with your thoughts. Did I really change that much? Your face tilts to the side, but the different angle doesn’t seem to help give a proper answer. Hmm…Perhaps it’s something I’m not supposed to see.

With a yawn, you stand straight again, deciding to take up Utahime’s advice and retire for the night. You face your queen-sized bed, anticipating your figure sinking into the soft, comfortable mattress.

What you didn’t anticipate was releasing a big gasp when turning to your bedding, your body going rigid, and your blood stopping circulation.

“Hey.”

Something was sitting on your bed. No, someone was on your bed. And judging by the deep, guttural timbre of their voice, you are familiar with this person.

You turned to your left once you heard a word. A figure was coming into the lighted room from the dark of the balcony – a giant, no, ginormous figure. Based on the height, he was inches from touching the entrance frame, way taller than any royal you’ve ever met — or, at least, any human royal you’ve ever seen.

The body was broad and could engulf you even from ten steps away. Four burly arms protrude from the torso, and black nails that resemble claws match the black tattoos painted on his shoulders, biceps and triceps, wrists, back, and chest. The markings also reside on the right of his face that’s morphed with another, which holds four red eyes instead of two, along with earrings that stretch his big earlobes. Aside from his bloody orbs, one thing that contrasts his appearance is the rusty salmon color of his hair. And that was the first thing you saw — the first thing that had your mind recollect him.

“Lord Ryomen.” His name didn’t feel proper to say. It’s been almost a year since you last saw him, but he was still the same brutal man you’ve heard about all this time…yet a companion of yours nonetheless. “Father told me you would be here in two days. How did you—“

“You know I’m not one to wait.” He crossed his lower arms, the upper ones covered by a black robe that matched the black hakama pants he wore. “Especially when it comes to visiting this place.”

“And of Uraume?” The mention of the demon king’s trusted adviser quirks his brow. “Is it okay to leave them alone without you to watch over?”

“You think I’m weak on my own?”

“N–No, of course not!” You were quick to refute — you had to be when it came to him. “It’s just that I would feel bad; they’d worry about where you are.”

“And here you are worrying about them worrying about me. Hmph, humans,” he scoffs, and the mouth on his stomach grins. “Uraume knows to look after the ship when I’m gone or be my eyes when I’m not around. I’m not a child that needs protecting.”

You bow to him. “Of course you aren’t, my Lord. Forgive me for having you think as such.”

He hums, tilting his head while examining you. “Good. Lift your head.” You do as you’re told, watching him take a few steps closer to you. “It’s cold; why is your fire not set?”

You look at what he’s referring to, seeing that your fireplace harbored no flame. “I told my maids that I would be fine tonight without it, the heavy blankets will do—“

Your eyes travel back to Sukuna, only to see he isn’t where he stood. He vanished, nowhere in your room to be found. You turned behind, but he wasn’t there either. But once you heard heavy feet thunder on your floor again, you spun around to see the beast carrying four logs, one in each hand. You were marveled; you only heard talk of his speed, now it was a little scary seeing the real deal.

Sukuna bends down in front of your fireplace, setting the logs down perfectly. “Ignoring the cold’s existence is an ignorant game. A princess should be warm during this time of night.” Once the logs are set, he makes a sign with his upper right hand, bringing his thumb and forefinger together to his mouth. He blows, and a string of fire spits out to the logs. The sound of crackling bark from the flames confirms his work. “You are not me; you should fear the cold.”

You nod to his lesson. “Thank you, Lord Ryomen.”

“There’s no one here. You have the right to refer to me by my first name.” Sukuna straightens himself up. The light from the fire has his face aglow, and the crimson in his eyes flicker while they hook onto you.

You don’t know why — maybe it was because of the instant heat touching your neck instead of the sudden allurement you’ve noted from the demon king. Regardless, you avert your gaze downward. “Yes, Lord Sukuna.”

“Hmm.” He croons, walking towards you to prompt your chin up with a hand. Your eyes widen at his action; this is the first time in forever since he’s laid a hand on you. Talks of those he touches die shortly after spark in your mind. “You still have the sword.”

It wasn’t a question – an observation. He noticed the weapon lodged above the fireplace, like a memento meant to be honored rather than used. You smile, “Yes, I make sure it’s nice and clean from dust.”

Sukuna scoffs. “I give you a present, and you treat it like a trophy.”

“It would be wise to treat a gift from the demon king like a treasure. It wouldn’t sit right with me knowing I used or damaged a present given to me by someone I care about.”

He tilted his head again. “And when I give a weapon to someone I wish to protect,” The word caught you off guard. Protect? “I expect them to use it as it’s intended. I will allow it this time, but I won’t be too forgiving the second. Understood?”

You heard him, but your mind was still wrapped around the word. Protect? Lord Sukuna wants to protect me? What for?? You didn’t mean to say it aloud; it just slipped. “Protect?”

His mood shifts into neutral. A subtle softness is displayed in that inhuman structure of a face — or maybe you imagined it because of the late hour. Your breath hitches when you feel his lower hands pull and wrap around your right hand; the way your palm dwarfs in his hold is appalling. And then he kneels. Sukuna, the eight-foot-tall demon king, kneeling before you. This was a bizarre night, candidly.

“Princess,” he starts with your name. It was the perfect method as he fully has your undivided attention. “You know why the King has wished to see me despite what’s occurring outside these chambers. He believes there is still room to talk, and I believe he's wasting his time because I'm close to setting the entire Northern front ablaze and nailing this score for good.”

You knew he meant that, and it scared you because if he really could, he would. He actually possesses the mentality and the drive to do it. And yet, all three parts of the continent continue to stand. Why?

“But that would result in more problems for me. I’d have the entire world after my head for terrorism. All the leaders will not rest until I’m gone — your father would have to come put me down. And I would kill him, all of them.” His eyes were on you, dead serious. “…But that would make you upset, and it pisses me off that you'd hate me for my drive for survival.”

“My Lord,” it was your turn to speak. “I wouldn’t hate you. Being upset would be justified. But when it comes to war, survival is the paramount destination. I only wish to avoid such significant losses – both for the people of our nations and the people I hold dear.”

“Mmm.” He took your words. There’s no need to say anything, knowing Sukuna heard your piece is good enough. “I can see where you stand in this, stubborn and naive like your father. So, I come to you with a proposition. Something I need for you to listen before I consider seizing this battle.”

The way he spoke had you on edge, truthfully. Yet, if he’s coming to you in the middle of the night to hear your piece, who are you as a friend to push him aside? You give him a nod, “Yes, my Lord?”

“Princess, I want to—“ he stops mid-sentence, his pink-slitted brow suddenly drew up before it furrowed at the next second. He lets go of your hand in a hurry, standing up in a flash. It had you squeak. “He’s here.”

The sudden change in tone had you blink up at the giant, startled. “Wh–Who?”

“….No, they will not be seeing you. The hour is late; they are heading for bed!”

“Oh, c’mon Utahime — an hour, give me one hour!”

“Don’t you DARE open that door—HEY!”

You and Sukuna’s eyes dart to your chamber door, which opens with an abrupt vigor as if it was kicked open — it was kicked. The foot that was prominent at the front goes down and swings in a figure that brightens the area. Baggy white paints contrast with a black dress shirt mixed with white, intricate, and alluring designs. Subtle blue patterns map around the black collar and cuffs, dancing down the white material behind gold buttons. It’s covered by an ocean-blue shawl that drapes the figure’s left side. But the most significant detail that gave away who the person was – outside of their voice alone – was the snow-shite hair that decorated the top of his head.

Your wide eyes take in the person before you, and a dainty smile comes to your lips when you say his name. Unlike Sukuna, who sucks his teeth with a deep scowl. “Lord Gojo, it’s—“

“PRINCESS~~!” Chipper as ever, Gojo greets you with a happy tune that is so familiar to the ears. His sky-blue eyes gleam and narrow whenever he’s in your presence, just like he’d do during your childhood years. “Glad to see that I’ll be able to see your beautiful face tonight, after all. And I thought I told you to call me by my first name, like when we were kids!”

His jest has you giggle, “And I thought I’d told you from the last visit to knock on my door before entering. You have my poor handmaiden chasing after you at this hour.”

“I second that notion wholeheartedly, my Lady.” Utahime comes into view, approaching from Gojo’s shadow. If looks could kill, she’d stab Gojo’s throat with dual-wielding daggers. Not that the white-haired man was paying her glare any mind. She sighs heavily before bowing to you, “My apologies, my Lady. Lord Gojo caught me leaving the stairs towards your hall, figuring he’d come to speak a word with—Holy Tengen!” Your lady-in-waiting gasps when she lifts her head to see that you aren’t alone in the first place. “L-Lord Ryomen!? F-F-Forgive me for not noticing your grace before.” She quickly returns her head for a bow, hoping the trusty, short right-hand retainer and advisor, Uraume, wasn’t here to lecture her.

But thankfully to her anxious stars, the demon king grunts, “You’ve been forgiven, human. I came here not too long ago to discuss matters with the heir.” His red eyes leave the bowing woman to look at Gojo, whose lighthearted cadence is stilled. “Alone.” The final word was all for the white-haired lord’s watch to switch to a silent, menacing tone, shaded by his bangs but perfectly seen by Sukuna.

“Yes, my Lord, I shall leave you two to yourselves then,” Utahime replies to the salmon-haired creature, lifting her upper body ready for dismissal. But she then grabs for Gojo’s arm and tugs. “That includes you as well, Lord Gojo.”

“Ehhhh, me? What about the giant freak across from me?” Gojo questions the woman who pulls him to the doorway. “I also have things to discuss with the princess I’ve expressed earlier for when I have the time, which is now. At least I made my appointment known. Unlike him, who came into their quarters unannounced.”

“And here you are, barging into their room!” she almost popped a vein; you worry for the poor woman dragging the tall figure out of your room. “Kicking their door and making yourself known doesn’t modify the definition of being unannounced. Come back tomorrow – I’m sure my Lady will be available to listen to your quarrels then.”

It was now that you finally decided to interject. “It’s all right, Utahime. Sleep still evades me for me to rest.” You look to Sukuna, his gaze already on your figure, and then to Gojo, who awaits your assertion. “…I will listen to both Lords and have them dismissed before I retire for the night. You may let Lord Gojo go now and get sleep yourself.”

Utahime gives you a concerned look, yet she silently lets go of the man when you give her a tiny nod. “As you wish. Have a good night, my princess. Lord Sukuna. Gojo.” She slams the door at the last name she says, her stomping footsteps and grumbling curses fading into the night.

And now here you were, alone in your room, with the two lords of two superpower empires – two childhood friends. Nevertheless, it’s back. The suffocating tension you’ve mentioned before returns and drapes over the three of you that the word “friend” feels teeny within it. You can’t lie to yourself; you’re weary to have either of them in your chambers, let alone be in the same space as you. You knew there would be a day when the two would come together; however, you were far from being prepared for said event.

Then again, it’s better now than never, right? You three used to be the best of friends – close companions that you could depend on and trust. Close companions that you desperately wish to continue trusting and having an unbreakable bond with. If not for you, then for your father’s and respective empires’ sake. So, with a deep breath, you exhale and think of how to go about this predicament. Be the heir that your father raised you to be.

“So,” You turn to Gojo to start with. “Lord Gojo—“

“Oh, c’mooon, what did I say about using my last name?” Gojo flashes a quick smile at you. “We’re friends, no? It’s not fair you refer to Maiden Iori by her first name; you should know mine like the back of your hand!”

His little pester does help swade a bit of stress off your shoulders. “My apologies, Satoru. It’s just that I must be respectful to my royals, even if we are long-time friends.”

The white-haired man chuckles, taking steps to be closer to you. “Even so, I want my princess to call me by my name, for you are the one I trust and hold dear the most. And I don’t want our familiarity to be tarnished by titles.”

“…If that’s what will make you happy, Satoru.” The address to the northern prince made you avert your gaze to the ground, and your cheeks dial in warmth. Who knew that he thought so deeply about a little gesture? And then there’s what he referred to you as—

“Your princess?” Sukuna’s voice snaps you back to the present situation: you and Gojo are not the only ones in your room.

Gojo takes his eyes off you and places them on the giant behind your shape. He taunts, “Yes, my princess, as they are the fair heir of this great empire who will rule after their great father. I’d say they are as much my princess to me as the other Lords and Maidens. But I’d be lying since I see them as more than that.”

Sukuna’s quadruple eyes darken as they narrow at the man before him. “Every time I see your scrawny self, you prove you’re the biggest fool than all the other senile jokes of Lords I’ve ever dealt with.” Two steps is all he takes to be right behind you. You can practically feel his shadow on you. “The person before us is indeed a royal above many – above you. So, I find it amusing that you would be dumb enough to emphasize such a ludicrous claim. You fail to know your place when in their presence. And in mine.”

Oh, that ticked something inside Gojo. Because the prince was no longer smiling, his attention was wholly on Sukuna. Many wouldn’t dare to glower at the giant creature the way Gojo was — let alone look at him. “Hah, you sure know how to make unfunny jokes, Sukuna. Because I’d rather eat demon shit than have you think for a moment that you are above me.”

“Hmph, I’m surprised your childish behavior has gotten you this far,” you can see from the shadow on the floor that Sukuna folds his lower arms. “Don’t think that you’ll be lucky with me.”

“Oh, believe me, my childish manner has gotten its fair share of tongue lashings and trouble, but I’ve been able to talk my ass out of shit ever since I was a kid. But I guess talk is too cheap for an oversized brute like you, huh?”

“Very. I’m a being of action—“

“Action? Or destruction?” The light blue of Gojo’s eyes shifts to that of a deep, cold shade under his bangs, with no sign of backing down. “Because from all I’ve heard about you, everything can crumble beneath you with just a swipe of the fingers. Outside of your lands, who’s to say you’re worthy of ruling when your methods and policy are more forbidding than mine? Or better yet, who gave you the gall to think that such a monster like you has a right to even be amongst civil people like me and the princess? Hell, the fact that you snuck in their room as you please sickens me to the core.”

“I can say the same for you, Satoru Gojo. Your entire occupancy does worse than bore me. Standing here with the man governing the family who’s killed many of my kin and demons fills me with inextinguishable anger. You have no idea how much excitement I’ll have for the day I cut that head of yours clean off, but because of my business with the princess, your death will be pending.”

“Not if my business is taken care of first.”

The demon growls. “Like hell, it will.”

“My Lords, please!”

The tense atmosphere is relieved by the abruption of your voice, bringing the lords’ quarrel to a standstill to face you. You squeak when their eyes land on you, forcing yourself to turn to the fireplace and deal with the growing storm of anxiousness inside you.

Gods, I should’ve had Utahime here with me! You curse yourself for being in this situation. Why tonight of all nights must you deal with this? It was as if your lady-in-waiting had this all planned — or worse, your father, having you treat the matter of your allies. You groan internally to your hands, letting your frustration be released.

You twirl back to face the two men before you, a deep inhale before saying, “Lord Satoru, what would you like to discuss with me at this hour?”

“Hah?” The disapproving mood of the demon king had your heart sink to the floor. “I was here first.”

“Yes, you came to my room first tonight. But Gojo was here first at the palace. He told me earlier that he wanted to speak, so I should hear him.” You could only hope your reasoning satisfied the tall being, who puffs his tattooed chest. And Gojo quickly flashed the other a vexatious look at Sukuna before you pivoted to him. “Now, Lord Go—“

“Aht aht!”

“…Lord Satoru,” He beams a big grin. “What do you wish to speak with me?”

“Well, although this is something meant for the two of us,” meant to be a stab to the other person in the room, who couldn’t care less about his presence being unwanted. “But this’ll suffice; it doesn’t hurt to have an audience.” You watch the silver-haired man take your left hand, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing on your knuckles.

“My Lady,” he looks at you with delicate azure eyes, his gaze so captivating that it locks you in position. “I’ve known you for quite a long time. Before I met you, my life as a royal was barren. Nothing sparked joy in me. The mundane tasks to uphold as the next heir, being pampered and sheltered as the gifted member of the Gojo House. I felt trapped in a mold — a mold that I resented having as my birthright, so much so that I wished to claw my eyes out at the age of five.”

You could tell he was speaking from the heart, his hands gripping yours tighter.

“But then, three years later, my father took me to meet the King of the western lands; at the time, it sounded like such a chore having to meet all these old, disgusting guys that I had to ‘maintain a good relationship’ with. And then, like the sun peeking through dark clouds, I saw you. I’ve met many royal kids before me, most snobby or kissing up to me for my good graces. Yet, none of them have been as alluring and breathtaking as you have been.” He pauses for a light chuckle. “I can still remember how your sweet voice addressed me when our fathers introduced us together. You stood tight to his leg, but your grace was ever present.”

“Mhmm, and I recall how angry your father was when you didn’t take a knee and instead greeted me with a handshake.” The two of you share a laugh, unaware of the disdained aura of Sukuna right next to you for a moment. “There are many things I hold close to my heart — you and our friendship being part of them.”

“I agree. I mean it when I regard you as one of my greatest treasures. This friendship we’ve had these years – decades, even – has been a blessing that I do not want to take for granted. Even with this war on my shoulders, I wish for it to be put to rest so I can finally have you by my side again. And that’s why…”

Gojo lifts your hand to his face; the soft feeling of his pillowy lips on your fingers has you holding your breath. Just like Sukuna…

“Princess, merciful child of Tengen’s Blessed Ground, I ask for your hand in marriage.”

It all took one second — one mere second.

One second for your world to come to a complete standstill, the cracking of the firewood no longer poking your eardrums and the breeze from the outside no longer grazing your skin. Your body instinctively refuses to move so much as a toe to disrupt your processing.

One second for your thoughts to absolutely vanish. No words of your own occupying your brain, no guesses on where this conversation was going. There was nothing. Nothing except the last seven words Gojo said that replay in your head. Over and over and over again.

One second for you to be in a perfect state of perplexity. Right before Sukuna grabs your free hand and yanks you to his side the next. Three giant hands wrap around you while one grips your wrist tightly.

He snarls, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Gojo sucks his teeth before straightening yourself. “Ehhhh, is your demon brain screwed on right? You don’t know what a marriage proposal is?” His question struck you more than it did the beast. Huh? A marriage proposal? Marriage!?

The fingers of Sukuna’s upper left-hand grips your shoulder, claw-like nails poking your skin as if to draw blood. “Hmph, the nerve of you humans never fails to disappoint me. Especially you, Satoru Gojo, who remains a thorn in my foot. Must I kill more of your men to keep you at your place as you did to my demonfolk?”

“Khh, don’t act like you ever cared about the lives sacrificed on your behalf. It’s gross.” Gojo takes one step, and Sukuna swiftly lifts his upper right hand at him, his fingers positioned at the same sign when he made flames for your fireplace. Your eyes widen, please, not in my room! Gojo takes a stance for battle. “Acting human doesn’t suit you at all, fuckface.”

The roar of laughter that the demon bellows out was chilling to hear. The vibrations coursing from his body to yours rocked you to your core. “Hah! Me, human!? There’s a reason I let go of that part of myself a long time ago. It made me weak – held me back from my full potential. You are right, though; it’s beneath me to care for those below me. However, I don’t tolerate those that mess with what’s mine.”

The word had Gojo’s eyes taper. “Let them go.”

“No. If anything, I should skin you here and now for even laying a finger on them in front of me.” You peered up at Sukuna, your anxiousness refusing to settle down during this high-stakes scenario. “Because any man that dares touch my wedded deserves to be torn and shredded by my hands alone.”

You couldn’t hide your gasp. It snuck past you – the perfect reaction to what you heard. H–His wedded? Me? Lord Sukuna’s wedded-to-be!? No wonder he was acting like that…!

“Your wedded?” Gojo was just as taken aback as you were. “You’ve got some huge balls to declare that right after bearing witness to me proclaiming my request for their hand.”

“Tch, bastard, why do you think I was here before you?” Sukuna flashes his big teeth, pride exuding from his form. “Did you honestly think I’d allow the princess to end up with the likes of you? Now, aren’t you too old for fairy tales?” You’re still in shock of this madness. Two marriage proposals within the same hour? Both from your childhood friends who unequivocally despise each other’s existence? Any regular person would feel as if they’re experiencing a whirlwind right now.

Wait a minute…

“Oh, we’re talking fairy tales, you repugnant jackass.” It’s Gojo’s turn to get a kick out of this. “From what I can tell, the princess is meant to spend the rest of their life in comfort with a handsome human prince who swears to protect them and those they care for. Not a creature whose source of joy comes from killing and mayhem. You? Capable of love? Heh, be real. Not even your own dead mother was able to show you real love for her abomination of a—“

He stopped talking when he felt something warm roll down his cheek, a red fluid streaking to drop from his chin. You see a cut and blood, and a wave of dread hits you like a wall. It was Sukuna’s doing, no doubt. Your best friends were fighting in front of you, in your safe space. Your nerves have long forgotten what it meant to be in a state of calm.

Please, wait, stop—

“I already told you your death has been postponed, you northern shit,” red eyes darken, Sukuna's tone and aura unveiling a sense of brutality that shadowed your very being. It had you trembling. “But I don’t mind severing your tongue to make a point.”

The skin around the cut on Gojo’s skin begins to morph to find each other, seaming itself back to mint condition with a blue glow. Healing magic fixed his cut and cleared his blood, but the anger boiling inside him was prevalent in those striking eyes. Wanting nothing more than a bleeding head between his hands. “I’d like to see you try, you ugly prune.”

NO, STOP IT!!

This was all too much for a single night. This whole ordeal was far from your expectations. It was already stressful enough thinking about what would happen when the two lords were in this palace together. Now, in your quarters, you’ve never experienced a more life-and-death crisis having your friends — companions you used to laugh and engage with together — wanting to rip each other’s throats, especially for your hand in marriage. And, Tengen forbid, if you were to accept one’s proposal over the other…that would ignite a war above all wars. The bodies that fall on this mainland would all be in your undoing. The thought enough was too much to bear!

“I accept both!!”

The hostile complexion of the room vanished into the air in the blink of an eye. The sound of burning logs and dancing flames filled the space like before; the crashing ocean waves could be heard from your balcony. Nature was speaking without noises to interrupt it. It was quiet, too quiet.

You didn’t know what you just said until the last morphemes left your tongue. You silently remove your figure from Sukuna, covering your mouth in disbelief. And without having to see for yourself, you could tell that the two lords were just as flummoxed from your sudden sentence. What…What did I say just now?

“What did you just say?” As if he could read your mind, Sukuna relays your inner turmoil to be addressed.

Your heart was beating at an unbearable rate, your ears ringing like they’d soon set off and bleed. The trembles get worse with every second, and wiping your face off this Earth at this exact moment is all you wish for. You were so nervous that you were mere seconds away from the brink of tears. Oh, Tengen, why did I say that? What was I thinking?!? What am I to do? What do I—

“…Express to them how you feel, that you wish for nothing but an end to this bloodshed and to restore whatever’s left to rebuild their past alliance…”

And then, like a strange flash of an angelic tune, the words of your lady-in-waiting come back to you, instantly calming you down and reminding you who you are. You are the princess of the Western Front, the next heir after your father. This matter was bound to fall onto your lap one way or another — preferably less drastically and excitingly like this.

I am the princess, but their friend above all else…You remove your hands from your face, exhaling a shaky breath before standing tall. “….I accept both marriage proposals of my Lords.”

The men’s bewildered expressions were expected, just like the dismay in their voices. “Both of our—…! Surely you don’t mean that—” Gojo was the first to speak, silver brows screwed with confusion.

“I do.” A deep breath before you answered him. “I will only accept the proposals of both you and Lord Sukuna.”

The demon took one thunderous step, the vibrations crawling up your bones. “And just why is that?”

You exhale through your nostrils, chewing on your bottom lip. “Understand that I am humbly flattered by your perspectives — it fills me with gladness to know I can be hospitable to my dear friends again…As you both mentioned, I, too, cherish the two of you profoundly, and my trust for you two will never be extinguished. To be asked for my hand by either of you is an honor I’ll forever appreciate….But I cannot choose one over the other.”

“Bullshit,” Sukuna folds his upper arms, the lower resting on his hips. “You can; you just choose not to.”

“No, I care for you both, and choosing one alone would have people hurt. Both between us three and the people of this continent…” You maintain eye contact with both lords while your hands fidget with your nightgown to ease yourself. “A rivalry is happening between the Eastern and Northern fronts; blood’s already been spilled and soaking Tengen’s soil. If I were to choose one proposal, I can’t be guaranteed that this onslaught of violence will cease. Or, would either of you guarantee that you wouldn’t take the life of the other?”

That question had the two royals look at each other briefly, followed by their scowls and groans. Gojo is the next to speak, “What happens between us shouldn’t concern you, my princess.”

“You’re wrong; it concerns me tremendously. It is a concern that’s been eating me alive, watching my allies – my friends – fight each other on the sidelines, refusing to pick a side with my father. Now, you two come here, bend your knees, hold my hands, and ask for my hand, silently requesting my involvement for more bodies to drop like flies under my reign?… No, I would not find rest from this night forward, knowing that more innocent lives plummet from my answer.”

“It wouldn’t be blood on your hands.”

“…But it would be blood that I paint with my very shadow.”

The response sounded foreign to him, yet you stood tall, making sure your heart didn’t falter with your stance. Silence welcomes the three figures again, an old friend that goes well with the tense atmosphere. Two pairs of red observe you, like cerulean orbs that stay on your appearance.

A few seconds go by, and Gojo screws his eyes shut. “So, that’s it, you accept both proposals.”

A curt nod. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Your final decision?”

“Correct.”

The snow-haired man nodded aimlessly, slouched with a large sigh, turned, and headed for your bed to flop face down — like it was his bed. “Haaaaaah, you are your father’s kid, all right,” you could make out his words even with his face in your sheets. “A pacifist heart.”

“Hmph, such a dumbass reason,” Sukuna huffs with absolute annoyance, and you’re amazed he hasn’t already skinned you and Gojo. “You are not a child anymore. You can’t possibly be serious about taking up two husbands for the sake of peace.”

“You’re right: I am no child, for I’ve never been as serious as I am now.” Look at you, sticking up for yourself in the presence of the demon king. Although, you know he can hear the quiver in your voice trying to crawl out. You swallow, “It’s either both of you or nothing at all.”

His left eyes squint as they examine your features, the mouth on his belly gritting its teeth. “Tsk, both or nothing…Meanwhile, you know I can’t be in the same room with him. Not even Tengen could command me to share you with this brat.”

Gojo swifts on the covers to lie on his back. “Finally, something I can agree with the devil himself. He’s right, though; there are many things in my life I would rather not share with anyone — you being the top of my list.”

You take their concerns with patience and a lifted chin. “I understand you both, but if you two can’t let the fog clear and talk with each other, how can I see myself—“

“Let the fog clear?” Sukuna repeats with furrowed eyebrows. “Sorcerers came into my land and ransacked my villages — sorcerers from this bastard’s empire!”

“An action that validates your anger and course of action,” you remind yourself to take tiny breaths. “…However, Satoru didn’t order the attack himself; they went against procedure and stormed your country with poor judgment.”

The tall demon rolls all of his eyes and clicks his teeth. “Ridiculous.”

“No, what’s ‘ridiculous’ is how you fail to acknowledge why those sorcerers went to your zone.” Gojo’s turn to interpolate. “One of the noble sorcerers and his company died because of your demon folk invading my country without permitted passage. That noble had a family, students that followed his footsteps—“

“Are you saying my people didn’t have kin of their own to return to, Gojo Satoru?”

“Your people sure kill like they don’t—“ Another swipe of Sukuna’s fingers glid the air; this time, Gojo’s Infinity was on guard, ricocheting the cleave to mark a scratch on one of the curtains. “Hah, just like their leader.”

Sukuna flexes his knuckles to crack, black fingernails appearing sharper. “The demons who killed that sorcerer acted on their own accord. Just like the many men of your land who came to mine, whom I corrected for your lack of oversight.”

“Then allow me to fulfill my mistake,” the silver-haired man’s eyes glow. “And let me kill the demons responsible — just like you did to my men, fucking cretin.”

“Over my dead body, human trash.”

“My Lords!” The men concurrently exchange their gazes back to you. “This is why I will not be accepting either proposal solely. You come to my home to ask for my hand because you see me as of value, correct? Well, you both are people I care deeply for, and the thought of walking beside either of you for eternity is something I’d accept unmistakably under different circumstances…But, please acknowledge my position in all of this: I am the princess of an extraordinary continent and heir to the throne after my father, a man who has maintained peace and harmony all these years. Now, that peace is hanging on the brink of death and will soon be a matter I should issue alone, and the men who’ve grown with me and cherish me combating each other until one stands tall….or none stand at all.”

Word spilled after another as if a dam had broken down — fingers jitter even when clasped together. Your throat dries up after every sentence, yet your unwavering resilience pushes you to keep going.

“I’m sorry if what I’m saying or doing is selfish, and…you may be right that I’m going at it with the whims of a child. But, please,” Do not cry, do NOT cry. “Standing idly every passing day watching the men I’ve grown to—“ Love? Isn’t that too intimate of a word to assume? “…treasure kill themselves and others without doing anything wounds me enough. And if you think I can sit here in this palace and watch my intended go far and yonder to kill another person whom I cherish with no guarantee that they will return to me wholly, think twice.”

Your shoulders threaten to tremble; of course, you’re frightened beyond belief by what you’re saying. But you’re sure if she was here, Utahime would pull you in for a hug and acclaim how well you’re following her counsel.

“Please, I just…can’t bear it.”

Uncomfortable muteness gnaws you alive within the muteness of your room. You’re bound to draw blood on your bottom lip with how much you’re chewing it. If only your father were awake in this hour, his guidance at a moment like this would be beneficial, or merely observing from afar how you’re managing would give you some hope. Alas, you know he’s in deep sleep halls away. It’s just the three of you in this space — or just you versus the huge opposing auras thick enough to be slit by Sukuna’s cleaves.

Speaking of whom, the demon king watches you the entire speech. Same with Gojo, whose blue eyes dwindle back to their typical hue. The two men don’t dare break the silence as you stand before them, mentally swimming in thoughts alone to yourself….Well, at least the northern prince wouldn’t dare to do so first because Sukuna initially ripped the stillness to shreds. He says, “And how would your father respond to this feckless plan of accepting two marriage proposals?”

A worthy question to ponder. “…I’m sure he’d come to an understanding once I explain my reasoning,” the belly of the eastern king grumbles. “I’m sure he’d be contended at the fact that his two trusted allies would want to join houses.”

Gojo sits up straight atop your bed. “Well, that sounds all nice and dandy on that front. But, the problem still lies in us acting like…a ‘real couple.’ Face it, princess; you may seem okay with being with us both, but that doesn’t mean we’d be on the same page.”

Sukuna nods curtly. “I’d rather eat every human alive than entertain the thought of someone other than me touching you.”

The other shrugs. “Even if the world’s fate depends on it.”

The men’s grievances are valid arguments for why your plan can backfire, particularly when suggesting a relationship where two people can’t stand each other. What you’re posing is an action that has been practiced before yet isn’t entirely favored in the public eye. Nevertheless, your stance doesn’t change; you refuse to go back on your word, believing that it’s a better alternative to condone than the others. The only tricky part is convincing your childhood friends…

…Which is why what you’re about to do is indubitably unlike you.

“…What are you doing?"

But despite that, it’s a course of action that highlights your determination.

“—Woah!! Princess?! Why are you undressing??!”

Even if it’ll go down as the most downright humiliating thing you’ve done to yourself.

Your nightgown meets the ground of your feet, the cool air wrapping your nude frame with the heat of the fireplace hovering on one side. Arms free of sleeves, nipples easily spotted now with the dismissal of clothing, the region between your lower thighs bare, and delicate skin exposed for only the men in the room to see. And even then, your face doesn’t decline the miserable hotness. Embarrassed? No doubt about it.

“My Lords,” you croak, balled fists muster to contain whatever left of dignity you can. “This form…isn’t meant for any regular eyes to see — an offering only a slim few I’d trust to witness. Tonight, I want you two to see me like this.” You slowly step forward, gradually getting closer to Sukuna’s giant size. “As your princess, I offer my whole to you both, as you are mine…and I am yours.”

Sukuna blinks at your small figure close to his; the intensity of his stare is enough to have your heart sink into a pool of regret. Until he bends to scoop you with his lower arms, you yelp at the sudden action with hands finding his sturdy shoulders to grab. Now, he is way closer than you anticipated, his very chin inches away from brushing your naked chest. Holy shit.

“You are mine, and I am yours?” he lifts his eyebrow. “Was that not true already?” You gulp thickly before answering, daring to cup his cheek with a hesitant hand. Again, you’re surprised to see it still attached, let alone see him lean to your palm.

“You’d have to prove it true — here and now, make this ceaseless battle end by claiming me as yours…You too, Gojo.” You and the demon holding you turn to the man sitting on your bed. The pale skin of his face now harbors shades of pink that cascade across his cheeks and the dip of his ears, expression dumbfounded to what he witnessed. “Demonstrate how serious you are for my hand, or you and Sukuna can leave my room.”

Sky-blue eyes blink absentmindedly, words hard to pick and choose for the human prince in this bizarre minute. Sukuna then speaks with a huff.

“Well, are you going to start moving or what? Because whether you stay or not, your princess will become mine tonight.” He grins before leaning in to lick your skin, and you hold a whine when the mouth of his navel lightly chews on your tummy. “And on the many nights coming after.”

The beast’s words flip a switch, causing Gojo to chuckle and shake his head while unbuttoning his shirt. “Not if I have something to do about it, four-eyes…”

You drew in breath while watching Gojo undress, more of his milky skin stripped out of his clothing, revealing parts of the prince that you could only imagine in your fantasies. Heat flourishes to your ears, and another gasp is pulled out when Sukuna sneaks his free lower hand to cusp your buttcheek. He then brings an upper hand to your chin to face him and his sneer.

“You’ve made this night a whole lot more interesting.”

And that was the last time the sound of the fire cracking caught your attention.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Mmmm…Ahh—Ahhh!!”

“Keh, sure are tight as hell; definitely a virgin.”

“Fuck, I can hear the sounds from here…Oh, fuuck…!”

The sea breeze climbs up to your terrace, crawling into your room to swing the curtains of your canopy. The candles around your room continue to flame and provide light for the room to glow. The scent of lavender and rose from your bath and lotion an hour earlier remains in the air and sticks to your skin. The midnight hour isn’t yet, but the sky is dark enough past the twilight hues.

Expected as the former home of the Great Saint Tengen, the palace is as enormous. Harboring many rooms, halls, and floors for the company of the royal family and their subjects, the castle is unchallenging for a newcomer to get lost inside without a proper guide. Every room is catered to a specific event, person, meeting, or occasion in this place. On top of that, multiple guest chambers are meant for the guests invited under the King’s audience to rest.

…But it seems that Gojo and Sukuna are not retiring for the night anytime soon.

How could they sleep when you’re being a courteous host, letting your childhood friends spend the late hours in your room? Just like when you were young and playmates or learning to master a weapon. The only thing is that these two aren’t the same as two decades ago; they are men, branded with titles and responsibilities, blood already stained their knuckles, and duties hold them to a high expectation that you know all too well.

And, like all men, they have a salacious curiosity only appropriate for the bedroom. An interest you knew would one day be prevalent in your life if you agreed to take either as a husband…Yet, you’re not as prepared on the chance you’d face both realities simultaneously.

All three of you are stationed in your bed, clothes decorating your floor to leave you all bare for each other to see and marvel at — more so on your part. You lie on your back to a giant broad chest and stomach, Sukuna right behind you with his lower arms holding your feet by the back of your knees. Knees spread apart, your naked lower half is out, free for the monster to insert a single thick digit of his left upper hand into your wet chasm while the right fondles your left tit.

Never in your life did you think you were capable of producing such indecent noises. Low whimpers are embarrassing to recollect as the demon king plays with your most tender parts. His big fingers tweak your nipple, and the digit – way thicker than yours – inside your cunt is enough to stretch your opening, wiggling and scratching the inside. Fingering yourself never felt like this, your body experiencing a refreshing sensation you hadn’t known of. And to have the eastern king of all people to bestow this feeling on you brings just as much awe as humiliation.

Nonetheless, that indignity doesn’t cease. Gojo stands on his knees before you, propped between your sunder legs, while his hand strokes an erect limb. Yes, as a virgin maiden, tonight would be the very first time you ever see a living, breathing member, and the northern lord takes that honor with a lustful smile. His solid cock gets stiffer with every jerk, a left curve protruding the more your appearance excites him. To be observed and used as material as your slit is fingered? How lewd!

“Nnnn, ahaahn…” Sukuna’s finger rubs on your velvety surface, your legs wanting to squirm despite the monster’s hold. “Oh Gods…Ohhh!!”

“Damn, you look so good,” Gojo mutters under his breath, precum drizzling his fingertips. “Looks like it feels good, huh, princess?”

“Sure feels like it,” every word that Sukuna utters causes tremors to pass down his abdomen to your back, the very vibrations crawling on your skin like the tongue that licks your back to make you arch. “Hm? Tell us how you really feel, little one.”

The usage of that name causes your vaginal walls to twitch; he has never called you as such, and picking such an intimate time to do so makes your frame feel awkward and warm. “…I-I—fffmm!—don’t know…”

“Hmph, you dare lie to me,” he bends to your ear, and his deep chuckle ignites your stomach to knot itself. “Like your body doesn’t speak for itself, clenching on my finger like you want to snap it off.”

“Th-that’s not—“The graze of your upper wall cuts you off, and your hands struggle to find places to grab, gripping the skin of Sukuna’s thigh and grabbing tuffs of his apricot hair.

The demon king snickers more when his middle finger teases your taint, pressing a kiss on your cheek before a quick bite. “Only one finger in, and you’re already wailing like a common whore; be lucky that I haven’t added another, then you’d really be prepared for me…” You feel something brush up against your back, the tips of Sukuna’s cocks reminding you of his eventual promise.

“Wooow, calling the future heir a whore; must’ve forgotten whose room we’re in.” The white-headed man had something to say about that, satisfyingly ruining the mood for the demonic being.

“They don’t seem to mind, at least their cunt doesn’t,” uncouth cords that speak truth, your vulva squeezing his finger constantly. “Who would’ve thought the beautiful, refined, and compassionate princess,” each enunciated word has consequences that are a lick and bite to your helix. “Was, in fact, a dirty, nasty girl?”

“Holy shit,” Gojo’s hand goes faster, his dick ready with stiffness. The image of you melting under the Fallen Star’s hold is too hot for the young man to witness. “God, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby…”

Sukuna clicks his teeth. “Well, hurry the hell up and do it before I change my mind and fuck them myself.”

“And have them bleeding to death because of your giant dicks on their first time? Fuck that,” He ignores the four rolled eyes as he maneuvers closer to you, Sukuna pulling his finger out of your wet slit and slithering further down to your anus. He coaxes you to relax your tense muscles, pushing his digit into your puckered hole second by second. The gasp you release once it’s added sends shivers up Gojo’s shoulders. “A princess should be treated like a pearl – tended to with the utmost care.”

“Go–jooo…” You whine as the human heir cups your cheeks to squeeze.

“What did I say about using my family name?” He scolds with a cheeky tune, gauging your reaction as he disposes his cockhead to the folds of your vagina.

“…S-Sa—Mmmph!” The push of his pink tip is a new sensation.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” He coos, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Relax, just focus on me.” Your eyes lock with his, distracted by the twinkle and swirl of his azure irises, like a whirlpool sinking into the darkness of his dilated pupil. “What’s my name, cutie?”

“Saaa…Sato—Ohhh!!” And just like that, the tip of his limb enters inside, bypassing your knowledge until the wince of pain snaps you out of your distraction. “…to’ruu…”

His teeth glisten under her grin. “That’s my good girl.”

Gojo keeps propelling himself inside you, gradually shoving every inch of his lengthy girth. You bite your quivering lip at the stretch of your opening, accommodating the foreign body part burrowing inside your inner channel. The left curve of his has his penis rubbing on parts of yourself you hadn’t thought possible; a graze of your G-spot causes your legs to quirk and toes to curl.

But then, once his silverish pubes meet your outer labia, he reaches the depth of your cervix and gives it a chaste kiss. And your frame suddenly shuts down briefly, your senses running cold before you cry aloud without knowing. Your hands rush to cover your mouth, but the damage is too late.

Sukuna raises a brow. “What a shout.” He then uses your reaction to add another digit into your ass.

“Ahhhh, there it is,” Gojo swallows thickly, hips speaking for themselves as they sway. “That was cute as hell–the way you twitch feels so good…” Another poke to your cervix, and your legs can’t help but wrap around Gojo’s waist.

“Satoru, please…!” You plead with knitted eyebrows. “Pleasee, be gentle with me…”

Blue eyes narrow. “God, who told you to be so adorable?” Gojo angles down to your face, his nose mere centimeters to yours. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll treat you right tonight…Hmmm.”

The man leans in to place his lips on your forehead before his own, and the pace of his thrusts quickens to mediocrity. The rubs on your silky texture become frequent, lightly pounding his shaft into your to till his testes knock your chasm, the whimpers you try to repress boost to a louder volume. His left curve spikes up your nerves with every push and pull, easing the itching heat that permeates around your lower half.

Hands writhe around to calm around Gojo’s cold back; you say his name in prayers. You can feel something coming, and if he keeps rutting to you like this, it’s bound to come earlier than expected. “—Nnaaa, Sat’ruuu, w-wait!! I can’t—Ahaann!!”

“—Mmmm! Yeah, just like that, princess, keep gripping on me like that…” He doesn’t listen, too lost in your warmth and wetness that he can’t stop. The flex of his abs increases, plunging into your pussylips desperately as if he can sense the eventual you fear.

“T-Toruu, wait, go slooww!!” Words mean nothing, hips not declining in their needing cadence. Oh Gods, I can feel it; it’s coming! Nerves climb to a peak way too fast for your comprehension, nails digging into Gojo’s skin before your orgasm hits you, choked squeaks leaving puffy lips as your cunt contracts around the prince’s girth and your asshole clamping around Sukuna’s fingers.

And Gojo is right there experiencing your climax with you, moaning under his breath and pressing his forehead to yours before he completely melts under the fluttering motions of your genitalia. “—Mmfff, ffffshit, so tight…!” He can’t stop thrusting into you, moving his pelvis slowly to draw out the sensation before he sinks into a crescendo of his own. “Fuuck! Yeah, cutie, that’s right; ride it out,” he snaps an abrupt drill to your aching entrance. “Ride it out…”

Sukuna scoffs lightly before whispering in your ear. “Done already, human?” Patronizing attitude to make you fidget. “Better be ready for me still.”

“Ehhh, but I’m not done here.” The snow-haired man retorts, massaging your waist out of the quakes.

A thread snaps in the wake of the other’s words, and Sukuna’s lack of patience drives him to push you and Gojo off of him. The two of you roughly position to where you are essentially straddling Gojo, his erection still inside your slick-coated cavern. The devilish man swiftly ends up on his knees before contorting his massive figure to dwarf both humans beneath him.

“Gahhh!! Sukuna, what the fuck w—Mmmph?!?” With the spawn of a mouth, the eastern king shuts the northern man up by slamming his upper left hand onto his mouth for an unexpected kiss. Gojo muffles under the other’s palm, the tongue shoving itself inside.

“Shut up,” Sukuna orders with annoyance. “So damn chatty…And you,” he uses his lower hands to steady your ass, and you stifle a yelp at the contact of something pressing up against the opening of your butt. “Stay still, or I can make it hurt real bad.”

His warning is enough to keep you immobile, following his instructions and stationing your breathing to a steady rhythm. Your hands-on Gojo’s chest ball to fists once Sukuna pushes his tip to your asshole, your mouth forming a permanent ‘o’ shape once he eventually gets the cockhead inside. Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any more extreme, you had forgotten about the taller individual’s well-endowed self: two hefty, girthy limbs that you NEVER, in your wildest dreams, imagine would put inside your body — not even one!

However, tonight was the night that would be put to the test, and at the very least, Sukuna compromised, using one of his members to ravage your interior while the other skims the crevice of your asscheecks. He goes excruciatingly slow; rather than just ramming the entire thing in one go, it’s better. Gods, no, you’d be shedding more tears than you already are. Every inch that’s plunged inside you pushes out shaky breaths, sobbing from the intrusion and bits of drool slowly escaping you.

“Daahhnn, ohmyG—Nnnm!!” It’s finally all in, all swallowed up by the ridge of your bottom. You call to him, “S-Sukunaa…fuull, so fuulll…”

“I bet you are.” He adds more weight, scrunching down, making it worse by caging you under his bow. Sukuna grinds his hips, which evoke sharp cries, “Hmmm, fuck, so tight…”

The salmon-haired behemoth rocks his enormous hips, the propulsion strong enough to rock you and Gojo concurrently. This time, unlike the northern man under you, Sukuna’s movements exude dominance; from his firm grip on your waist to the confident pull of his hips, everything he does is marked with a purpose. You can tell by how his big, weighty balls smack on your sexed union with Gojo.

Speaking of whom, the polar royal subsists in the kiss with Sukuna’s hand. Yet as the seconds turn to a minute, his expression morphs into a less perturbed display. Instead of fighting it, he kisses back with the palm and bucks his hips into you. The action of his cock rubbing on the sweet spots of your vagina while the one carves and churns your butthole and the other glides on your crack grinds your brain to turn into mush. Your nerves have yet to calm down from the prior orgasm, senses overloaded with constant commotion going on in your private parts.

Sukuna’s pushes become quicker and mightier, and the more he ruts, the more your clit grinds onto Gojo’s pelvis, sending shocks straight to your head. There’s no room for rest…! “—Ohhh, hooooh’Kunaaa, Kunaa, pleaseee…!”

“‘Please, please,’ please what?” He mocks you, knowing you’re powerless to reprimand him in this predicament. “Just whining and whining like a bitch in heat; have you no shame, princess?”

“Ohhh, I’m gonna—shtoooop!!” He licks your ear as you moan aloud, steamy tears striking down your hot cheeks. The pace increases, and so does the swipe of your clit and the bump of your womb. “Ohhhfuck, fuck, fuckfuuuuck…!!”

“Kehaha, look at you; the poor princess finally breaks their poised picture,” dark, pleased chuckles seep out of the demon king’s lips, biting onto your shoulder harshly to make you scream. And judging by him licking your added wound, you’re sure he drew blood.

“Ahhsshh—ohmyGod, ohmyGod!! S’kuna, don’t!!” Desperate pleads slur out. “I’m gonna break; y’re gonna break meee…!!!”

“Good, I want you to be broken,” he sneers as his upper right arm pushes you to face him. “Break for me; think of nothing else other than being mine. Right now, your mind, body, and soul are mine to torment and tear apart. You are my little dove, small and easy to break from now till your dying breath. Am I clear, pet?”

Scared? Of course. The way his scarlet orbs bore holes into your very being had you petrified; he doesn’t need his hellish aura and brawny hands that can snap a tree in half to assimilate fear into your heart. Witnessing the true power of the King of Demons with just his stare, nothing scarier than that…And yet, your anus and chasm can’t stop squeezing like crazy.

“…Yess, my Lord,” you croak, his finger wiping the saliva on his fingertip. “I am your pet from this—nnmm!!—this moment until the…very last.”

Anxiety doesn’t diminish when he broadens a devilish smile, but it transforms into perplexity once he slams his lips onto yours—your first kiss, taken by the eastern King, along with the chastity of your rear hole. And there’s Gojo, who is the very man who has taken claim of your virginity. Two men, your childhood companions, taking your firsts! Tonight, indeed, is marked down as an eventful occasion for you.

You sink into the passionate kiss, your tiny tongue swirling around with Sukuna’s, his fangs grazing the muscle teasingly before he nibbles on it to hear you shrill for him. All the while, his hips go erratic, motivating Gojo to increase his tempo. The feverish rhythm leaves you breathless, crying in the company of lust and rapture to the point that you’ve become numb. Your vision becomes blurry, your head foggy, and the air between you three misty. Noises of skin smacking onto each is all you hear, drowning you further into another spazz you couldn’t adequately foretell.

Gojo and Sukuna chase their climaxes together after your walls quirk and spasm uncontrollably, letting their fluids burst inside to fill your holes to the very brim. You howl in Sukuna’s mouth, who chews on your bottom lip roughly, same with Gojo’s with the palm before snatching his hand away. The snowy-headed man huffs and pants, nearly choking on spit as his midsection flexes with every jerk of his ejaculation. And the giant above you groans while rutting into your ass, not stopping until his high passes through, the free girth ejecting semen to paint across your sweaty back.

For a few seconds, it’s utterly hot and cold at the same time, your figure trembling with the acute shocks coursing through your bones. Eyes roll to the roof of your canopy, and limbs wobble and give way for you to slump after Sukuna releases you from his breathtaking kiss. Luckily, Gojo is there to catch you, the comely noble attending to you with kisses to your temple.

“Look what you did,” he spits to his left, wanting to rid his mouth of whatever remnants Sukuna left with that disgusting kiss. “You weren’t kiddin’ when you said you wanted to break them.”

“Hmph, don’t ever take me for a liar,” the demonic man stretches after withdrawing his length out of your butt, chortling at the sight of his essence sticking to you. “Oi, dove, you hear me?”

“Princess, you all right…?”

Whatever words the two were saying to you had begun to fade away despite their proximity. Your eyelids refuse to fight the urge to close, and your skin allows the cold breeze to blanket you. Everything goes black, your breathing returns to balance, and the sound of the fire cracking comes back to sing you to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“My Lady, are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“Huh?” You snap out of being zoned out for the sixth time today. Your vision is now present with the gazebo view, the ocean glistening from the morning sun in the distance, contrasting with the beautiful greenery of your garden. Many flowers of different shapes and sizes, various colors painted on top of the veins and roots separated from the yellow brick road coursing around it.

You sit at the gazebo for your morning tea; it’s part of your morning routine after a nice bath and Utahime helping you pick what to wear for the day. Usually, when you sit here, you admire the tranquil sounds of the outside space and the sweet taste of your hot beverage.

“—Mmmm! Yeah, just like that, princess, keep gripping on me like that…”

“Stay still, or I can make it hurt real bad…Hmmm, fuck, so tight…”

Memories from last night flash one after the other, ringing your ears with nothing but the erotic noises and voices from the night before. Your cheeks dial in warmth, recollecting the senses of having both men — your childhood friends — so intimately close to you. The hotness of their breath touching your skin, the wet, teasing licks of the tongue from Sukuna’s stomach, Gojo’s slender fingers swiping and pinching your clitoris as he sucks on your nipple, and Sukuna using one of his arms to restrain your hands behind your back as he uses two others to keep your hips still to hammer your holes with his girth.

“Princess…” the way Gojo says your name, your stomach flips to the smooth tone of his voice. His striking blue eyes survey your expression like you’re his lost treasure. His hard body meshing together with your sweaty, soft figure is a sensation you’ll probably never forget…

“Princess…” Sukuna, with his red eyes and demonic face structure, put you in a paralysis spell, and his intimidating aura suffocates you to submit to his gaze and hold. Under his bow, you felt as though you were nothing but his and his alone. And you can’t tell if that is scary or intriguing…

“…—dy Lady….MY LADY!!”

“Y–Yes!?” Your attention swerves to reality, Utahime’s face mere inches from yours. Her brown eyes filled with worrisome confusion, scanning your expression.

“What on Tengen’s Earth is going on with you?” She says with a sigh, “Are you sick? Did you not get enough rest last night? Tsk, it must’ve been Lord Sukuna and that blue-eyed jerk. My apologies, my Lady. I hope their intrusion didn’t keep you awake for too long.”

You shake your head to your best friend. “No need to apologize, Utahime. And it’s all right; the Lords didn’t give me too much trouble.”

She gives a nod to your response, observing you picking up your teacup and taking a sip before setting it back down gently. “Still, I find it odd that both lords wished to see you so late at night. At the same time, too…If you don’t mind me asking, my Lady, what did they wish to speak with you?”

Again, she is your best friend, so you can trust her with the information you’re about to give. “…Apparently, both Lord Sukuna and Lord Gojo wish to have my hand in marriage—“

“MARRIAGE!!??”

“Shhhh!!” With haste, you stand from the table to cover your lady-in-waiting’s mouth from uttering another word. You swiftly survey the entire garden to see if anyone from the castle heard the shout. Luckily, it was just the two of you. “Please, Utahime, not so loud.”

The woman with her mouth covered blinks once, twice, before giving an assured mod for you to release her lips. She now speaks in whispers with you, “My apologies. But…marriage??”

“I know, it surprised me, too. It seems my father gave them his blessings to ask for my hand. It could be for the sake of our families and relations or to strengthen the bond of our empires to maintain the powerhouse that is our continent.”

“Mmm, those are valid reasons to consider, especially after the Great War, and that the bond of the three empires would give a good message…Or perhaps, did the Lords wish to wed you for more personal reasons?”

They did. That’s what you wanted to say. But instead, all you could do was think about their proposals from last night. The way they both stood on one knee and took two hands. Gojo’s eyes never looked so sincere and soft when looking at you, placing his soft lips on your left ring finger to gently kiss it. He looked like his princely self. But that night, he showed the caring and soothing cadence you had fallen in love with all these years. And Sukuna, oh Lord. Never did you think you’d live to witness the day this giant being before you took a knee for anyone – especially for you. Your right hand easily dwarfed in his grasp, brought to his lips that you’d only ever dream to have touch you. And those piercing eyes of his, red like blood, examining every single feature of yours as if you were the thing that made him strong yet weak. It was subtle, something only meant for your eyes to see. But most of all, it was genuine.

“…That might be it, as well.” You mutter under your breath, your cheeks becoming warm while reminiscing the scenes to yourself.

However, your chambermaiden was no fool at all. She could tell from your wandering gaze that something, in fact, did happen between the three royals that night. She lifted a brow at your response, “I think that is the case, seeing as though you’re trying to hide the smile from me.”

You squeak, immediately facing in her direction, seeing the foxy grin on her beautiful, scarred face. “I’m smiling?”

“Aha!” Oh no, I fell for it. “Gotcha! Oh my, it seems my Lady is having troubles with the heart. Could it be you are considering the marriage proposals?”

“W–Well…I don’t know myself,” it was an honest answer; you didn’t know the answer yourself. “The matter caught me off guard; I wasn’t expecting either of them to come to my quarters, let alone propose to me on the night of their arrival—“

“That’s not my question, my princess.” You gulp when she cuts you off, Utahime narrowing her feline eyes as she speaks. “It made you incredibly nervous that the three of you would be here at the same place, thinking those two would go at each other’s throats. Now, two Lords still stand, asking for you to be by their side, and you can barely keep a straight face. If you ask for my piece, I’m relieved they came here with the thoughts of marriage rather than spark up talk of another war in this continent.”

You hum along to your maiden's words, taking in her reasoning. Yet she continues, “And judging by how fidgety you appear to be on this fine morning, something tells me you’re on the fence of accepting. Who will take my Lady’s hand? Lord Ryomen? Gojo? Ugh. If it’s the latter, I’ll only deal with him for your happiness. And Lord Ryomen, oh my. Being the spouse to the most powerful beast of Holy Tengen's continent , it’s something out of a fairy—“

“Utahime, calm down!” You stop the lady from her excitement bubbling into something substantial. You can tell she’s itching to plan your wedding – whenever that be – once your tea time is finished. “I…I didn’t accept their proposals, not yet.”

The dark-haired woman drops her jaw; how unfortunate it is for you to lie to your best friend. “What do you mean!? You didn’t? Then how come you three were discussing for such a long time? I saw Lord Gojo return to his quarters in the middle of the night, and I figured it was because you all had an in-depth discussion.” You open your mouth, but your words are caught on the back of your tongue. You couldn’t formulate a proper excuse or lie in time. Because of that hesitation, Utahime’s brows draw upward with wide eyes, her mouth changing into a small “o” shape. It was at that moment that you realized you dug yourself a grave.

“Princess,” her voice was still hushed, speaking slowly as if not to jump so hard to her assumptions. “…What exactly were you doing with Lord Satoru and Ryomen?”

“PRINCESS! PRINCESS!!”

Saved by another voice entering the fray, you and your lady-in-waiting turn around to see another person coming to the garden, running down the brick road to your destination. As they came closer, you could tell from the bright blue hair and uneven bangs that it was Utahime’s apprentice, the lower-status handmaiden Kasumi Miwa. Your lady-in-waiting was the first to correct her before getting closer, “Maiden Miwa! I’ve told you about running so freely around the castle. What if you were to bump into someone?” When Miwa is in the presence of the two of you, she’s huffing and puffing. “And stand up straight!”

“Eek! Sorry, Lady Iori, but I come bearing news for the princess!” Miwa fixes her posture and messy blue hair while trying to situate her breaths steadily. “Princess, I’m here to tell you that Lords Sukuna Ryomen and Satoru Gojo wish to speak with you!”

Huh??!! “Pardon??”

“Yes, they wish to discuss their proposals with you from last night. At least, that’s what they told me…Oh, there they are!”

“Miwa, shhhh, don’t point!”

You pay no mind to your chambermaid lecturing her young student because your eyes follow the brick pathway up to the castle steps where two figures stand. Sukuna and Gojo stand at the entranceway to the garden, both wearing their respective clothing. Not that it matters, though, because the memories from last night with your nude bodies being connected still haunt your senses. And now they’re here, big grins on their faces that share the same reason. They know, and they know that you know. Who knew that such a night full of unexpected passion and heat would happen to you and with your closest friends since your little years, who have grown to become such strong, handsome, and powerful men.

Perhaps this was the union you’ve wished for — the union that could finally bring you three back together…Perhaps.

“…Tell them that I’m available to speak.”

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rowarn · 8 months

Text

first i would like to formally apologize.......also first time trying hybrid au so i humbly apologize if it's not as good as other people's!!! first time for everything and all that!!!

hybrid!au, angst, hurt/comfort but also hurt/no comfort, VERY mean!simon, cat hybrid!reader, dog hybrid!soap, owner!simon

part 2 !!

Simon who has retired from the military and decides to get himself a hybrid companion. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it – he’s grown lonely. He doesn’t have any family and all the socializing he did was in the military and he doesn’t have that anymore. So he decides to look into finding something to fill that gap in his life.

Enters Soap – a young hybrid who once upon a time worked for the military just like Simon. The pup got injured in action and was forced to retire.

Simon figures the two of them will fit together quite well.

And he’s right! The two of them get along swimmingly. And it turns out Soap is very good for Simon. The endless energy the hybrid had (despite his injury) forces Simon to actually leave the house multiple times a day instead of hiding inside until he drives himself stir crazy.

Now, he has to take Soap out for walks, runs, and even takes the hybrid to the park so he can run around with other hybrids and play catch with Simon. Soap LOVES it when Simon throws the ball as far and fast as he can so Soap has to spend several minutes hunting the little thing down.

Simon actually finds himself feeling…happy. For the first time in a long time.

Soap carves out a space in Simon’s life and the Brit is more than happy to let him take up as much space as he needs. He adores Soap. He knows the two of them are going to be companions for a long, long time.

But then on a routine nightly walk, Soap freezes at the entrance to an alleyway, ears perked and alert as he hears something Simon can’t. His tail stops wagging and his blue eyes work to pierce unblinkingly into the inky depths of the alley.

And that’s how they come across you; a skittish cat hybrid with no home to call your own.

Soap is ecstatic. His tail starts wagging so hard that it actually hurts when it hits Simon in the leg.

The pup begs Simon to bring you home. He wants a hybrid friend of his own! Something ugly and dark works it’s way into his chest when he hears that – was he not enough for Soap like Soap was for him?

He tries to tug Soap away by hooking his fingers into the leather collar around his neck but the hybrid doesn’t move, simply staring with a grin at where you sit on the ground in the alley.

Simon doesn’t like cats. He doesn’t want a cat. And just seeing you makes him frown.

When he finds that he can’t get Soap to move, he starts bargaining. He swears that they’ll look into finding a nice dog hybrid for Soap!! Stll, it doesn’t work. The dog hybrid has got his heart set on you for some reason.

And that’s how you find yourself living in his home. And he’s not happy about it.

You glare at him any time he has the audacity to walk into any room you happen to be in in his OWN damn house. It pisses him off.

He doesn’t like you. And he makes it abundantly clear any time he sees you with the way his lips curl up in disgust. He shoos you away like you’re a nuisance even when you’re just lounging in the warmth of a sunbeam through the window.

Where Soap eats borderline gourmet, he usually just slops some random low-quality hybrid food down for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly resentful, he doesn’t even let you eat at the table with him and Soap.

But Soap adores you. The pup gets so excited to see you whenever he gets home from a walk or a day at the park. He hunts you down immediately wherever you may be just so he can excitedly tell you all about what happened outside – the birds he saw, the hybrids he played with, what he ate.

And you listen intently. You’re not one for many words, Simon notes, but he often finds you muttering barely audible things to the other hybrids. You’ve never spoken a word to the human.

Simon doesn’t know why that upsets him too – it’s not like he wants you to talk to him. He just thinks it’s disrespectful of you to ignore the man giving you food and a roof over your head. He also thinks it’s fucking disrespectful of you to steal his hybrids heart the way you have.

The longer you’re there in his house, the more Simon hates you. Annoyance morphs into despising you. He’d have thrown you out back onto the streets by now if he could get away with it but when Soap wasn’t by his side, he was by yours.

It ticks him off when he walks into a room and finds you purring happily with Soap curled up around you, big burly arms holding you snuggly against his chest as he snoozes.

Simon didn’t even bother naming you, Soap’s the one who picked something to call you. Simon usually just gruffly calls you ‘cat’ if he needs to speak to you – which he makes it a point not to do very much.

You still don’t speak to Simon. Even when he ‘forgets’ to feed you, you don’t say a word. You don’t complain or seek him out for something to eat. You just choose to starve.

He wonders if you hate him as much as he despises you.

And you and Soap remain the best of friends. The pup is always yapping happily to you and you’re always listening.

As time passes, you even start to follow Soap around. It no longer seems like one-sided adoration.

You love Soap, he brightens your day and makes you happy. You want to be around him all the time. You never thought you'd like a dog but Soap was just so sweet and kind that it was impossible to dislike him -- even when he ruthlessly kissed your face all over and pinned you down so you couldn't escape just so he could give you all the affection he wanted. You never got mad, never showed your claws (in fact, you were extra cautious of your claws with him). You slept with him whenever he wasn't busy snuggling with Simon -- and you'd never dare interrupt the two of them while they were having quality time together!!!

And that also makes Simon furious. Because Soap is his. How dare you have the audacity to think Soap is yours? Simon has put so much love and effort into his relationship with Soap and you prance in with your stupid fluffy tail and little purrs and you’ve got the dog-hybrid wrapped around your finger in no time.

God, he hates you.

It seems like everything comes to a head on a rainy day. The rain always makes Soap hurt, his old injury and joints act up. It leaves him docile and sometimes a little cranky.

He had been a little short with you all day and that hurt. You already dealt with your owner, the man who took you in, refusing to show you any kindness, and now the one companion you had would barely look at you.

It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know how much pain Soap suffered from. You loved the rainy night, it was perfect weather to snuggle up to your favorite hybrid and snooze away.

You found Soap, sprawled on his back on the couch, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t think anything of it. You crawled onto the couch, intending to snuggle in right beside him.

But when you put the tiniest bit of your weight on him, his blue eyes popped open and a loud yelp erupted from his lips. You startled, hissing as your tail puffed up and fuzzy ears pinned back.

Soap practically lept from the couch to get out from under your weight, hitting the floor with a loud thump that had him whimpering softly to himself, curling in on his side.

Simon was storming into the living room not a half second later – finding his beloved pup curled up whimpering and shaking and you, ears pinned, tail puffed, and taking up the spot Soap once was.

Simon didn’t care what had just happened – all he knew was what it looked like; like you had pushed the poor pup off.

Because to him, that’s what cats were; vile, selfish, mean little shits.

You were dragged to the door and tossed right out into the rain without a second thought. Before you could even get your wits about you, the door was slamming in your face and you were alone. You sat on the step for a long while, shivering from the cold rain soaking your thin clothes, just waiting for the door to open again.

But before you knew it, the lights inside were turning off and you heard the front door’s deadbolt slide into place. And you were still outside, alone with nothing to your name but an old t-shirt that you had stolen from Soap.

Simon hadn’t even bothered to get you clothes of your own. Or a collar like Soap’s – one with Simon’s name and number on the back. You had always wanted a collar like that but you knew Simon didn’t care about you enough to even consider you his own hybrid.

You tried your best to stay out of his way and stay quiet and as small as possible so he wouldn’t grow angry or uncomfortable with you. You didn’t ask him for food when he forgot or get under his feet like Soap did. You tried your best to be good and hoped that someday the human would come around but as the days passed, you knew that it wouldn’t happen. You still did your best to not make trouble for him though.

It seemed he was just waiting for an opportunity to get you out of his house.

Your tummy growled, reminding you that you hadn’t been able to eat dinner yet. You stood from the front step and wandered down to the sidewalk, bare feet splashing in the puddles, taking a last glance at the now dark and still house you called home for many months.

With your head hung low, you made your way back to familiar areas where you knew you could dig through trash to find at least something so you wouldn’t sleep hungry tonight.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #cod x reader

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 4 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . |Webs And All|.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

《When a Spider falls into a new world, she didn't expect it to be so.. "Batty" than the others she's been in.》

Hurriedly swinging on rooftops and walls, you gaze in awe of the night sky. Warmth filling your body as the night air floats on your suit. Taking in the night sky...

Before smog and gas cover it as you jump down on the roof top. Pouting at the loss of the clear sky as you frown.

"I forget how polluted this city is.." You grumble, going to the ledge as you place your arms on the railing. Gazing down at the city lights and billboards.

Blinking innocently at one of the paid advertisments, you squint at it curiously.

"Wayne Enter.. Prizes? Technology.." You giggle at the guy on the board. His charming smile and flirty wink was not something you've seen often for an ad for tech.

Well...

You start re-calling a few worlds that did, but with a another billionare..

"Hmm, well. That's enough day-dreaming!" You shake your body, wanting to get your jitters out before taking a deep breath... Shooting out one of your webs to a near by ledge as you run and jump off.

Feeling your body pulled downwards, you pull your web as you glide through the air. Twirling slightly as you smile underneat your mask. Laughing once more as you swing forward.

..Let's do things differently this time.

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), you were bitten by a radioactive spider..

Yet you weren't the only one.

But now.. Your on your own, though you weren't the only one.

With a fleeting glance at you, the supposed.. Dark Knight: pays you no mind. Eagerly taking down villians left and right, as the two of you finish them off together.

You were supposed to be back at HQ.

Things didn't go as planned.

You made it work, with this "new" life of yours.

Stumbling over your shoes in a hurry, you place down the box of donuts on the big fancy board meeting table. Glad that the stairwell was open, sighing in relief, you miss the eyes that watched you leave the building. While you headed to your next job!

In this Au, Spider!(Y/N) is a temp-worker and delivery girl. Just an odd young gal doing jobs around Gotham, ordinary and sweet.

She has a multiverse-watch, handmade specifcally for her by Miguel. Being one of his first recruits to the Spider Society, yet with the new Multiverse-Canon she's stuck in, the watch forms within her body to make it more acceptable to deal within the world.

Due to this, she doesn't "glitch" is the best term

"Welcome! Lord Hades!" The man dressed in a toga greeted cheerfully. You squint in confusion. Glancing at your companion as you walked closer to his side.

"Ah.. And fair Persephone, it seems you've taken form as garden spider. How quaint!" He spoke jovially as he held out a golden goblet to the two of you.

"Be serious Max! That's Batman and-"

"But Batman is a mere mortal! And what mortal has reached the summit of Olympus and survied!" Placing a hand on Batman's shoulder, the man gestured to his cup.

"Come! Brother! Unveil yourself and your bride in the nectar of the gods!"

-Batman The Animated Series 1992 Ep: Fire From Olympus

Spider!(Y/N) doesn't know Batman's idenitiy, and funny enough. He doesn't know hers, in the beginning. I'd like to think maybe down the line there's a possibility! I just think it's silly-er.

I'd like to think the dynamic between the two is Batman served as a comedic foil to Spider!(Y/N). Sorta, "brooding guy-and happy guy". Also, I like to point out, they can both can be silly in their own ways!

Just them figuring it out with Batman is hilarious in itself.

Biting into the dish, you beam in joy! It tasted so sweet! And.. Tangy, with a bit of sour. Invested with the tasty dish, you fail to notice the striking blue eyes glancing at you from a distance. Naively standing alone in your waiter uniform as you nibble on the treat.

"Ah, Mister Wayne, good to see you." Jim Gordon, dressed outside of his usual detective get-up greets. Flattening down his suit before grabbing one of the fancy champange glasses from one of the servers.

"Oh, Commissioner!" He spoke in suprise, greeting him as the two started to chat. "-And there it was... Mister Freeze and that giant lizzard."

"Dinosur." Gordan corrected.

"Whatever, doesn't make any sense. What does Victor Freeze gain by destroying a bunch of bones?" The billionare huffed.

"That's the question alright, I wish I had the answer." The Commissioner sighed, brows lowering in thought.

-Batman The New Animated Adventures 1994 Ep: Cold Comfort

[This was a small personal project for me, I had this idea since Into the Spiderverse! I would honestly love some feedback for this! I also would love to hear your guys own ideas in the aak box!]

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astrxq · 3 months

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hey hey! i was wondering if i could request a jace x reader! it could be a modern au! along the lines of childhood friends to lovers?! and jace gets jealous of reader going on a date with someone else and he tries to like convince her to stay in for the night and he just ends up confessing abt him liking her and then maybe a bit of smut! only if ur comfortable of course :)

Dates and Apple Pie

modern!jacaerys x fem!reader

words: 4.4k

notes: not sure if i like this or hate it 😭 but i hope you enjoy!!

The gentle autumn breeze rustled through your hair as you made your way down the familiar street. You had walked this path countless times before, but that day felt different. Your heart beat a little faster, your palms were slightly clammy as you approached the cozy two-story house at the end of the block.

You had known Jace for as long as you could remember. Childhood friends turned inseparable companions, you had shared countless memories within those walls.

Before you could knock, the door swung open, revealing Jace's familiar grin. His hazel eyes lit up at the sight of you, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

"There you are," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I was starting to think you had gotten lost on the way to a house you've been coming to for, oh, I don't know, the past fifteen years?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Ha ha, very funny. Are you going to let me in, or should I make myself comfortable on the porch?"

Jace stepped aside with an exaggerated bow. "Mi casa es su casa, as always."

As you stepped inside, the scent of cinnamon and apples enveloped you. The house felt like a second home, filled with memories and the promise of more to come. You followed Jace into the kitchen, where a freshly baked apple pie sat cooling on the counter.

"Did you... bake?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in amused disbelief.

Jace clutched his chest in mock offense. "Your lack of faith wounds me deeply. I'll have you know I am a man of many talents."

"Uh-huh," you teased, "and how many YouTube tutorials did it take?"

His laughter filled the room, a sound that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "Only three, thank you very much."

As Jace's laughter faded, a comfortable silence settled between you. You had always appreciated these moments, where words weren't necessary to fill the space. Your eyes met, and for a split second, you swore you saw something flicker in his gaze—something more than just friendship. But before you could dwell on it, he cleared his throat and turned to the pie.

"So, shall we test my culinary masterpiece?" Jace asked, reaching for plates. "I promise I won't be offended if you spit it out. Much."

You chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I think I can manage to choke down a slice for the sake of our friendship."

As Jace served the pie, you couldn't help but notice the careful precision in his movements, the way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. It was endearing, really, how much effort he had put into this.

"Here you go," he said, presenting you with a generous slice. "Prepare to have your taste buds dazzled.”

He sat in silence, his plate still untouched as he waited for your approval. Hands under his chin, and a funny look on his face. With a smile, you take a small, careful bite, letting the flavors unfold on your tongue. It's surprisingly good—sweet, with just the right hint of cinnamon and a flaky crust that melts in your mouth.

"It’s actually really good, Jace," you murmur appreciatively, nodding in approval as you meet his eyes. His face lit up, and once you were two spoonfuls in, he ate his own.

“I told you. Man of many talents,” he pointed to himself.

You couldn't help but laugh at Jace's playful boastfulness, the warmth of the moment sinking deeper into your bones. His confidence was infectious, and you found yourself enjoying not just the pie, but the simple pleasure of being together.

"You should consider making this a regular thing," you suggested, teasingly nudging his shoulder. "I could get used to having homemade apple pie on demand."

Jace grinned, a twinkle in his eye. "If that's what it takes to keep you coming back, I might just have to brush up on my baking skills."

There's something in his tone that makes your chest tighten, but before you can dwell on it, he's already moving on, pulling the plates from the table and moving them to the sink.

"So," he says, his back to you as he serves generous slices of pie, "any exciting plans for the weekend?"

You hesitate, suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous. "Actually, yeah. I, uh... I have a date."

Jace's movements pause for a moment at your words, though he tries to maintain his casual demeanor. He sets the plates down carefully, his back still turned to you, but you catch a subtle shift in his posture – an almost imperceptible tension.

"Oh? You didn’t say," he replies, his voice carefully neutral. "Anyone I know?"

You shook your head, “Uh, no one you know,” you finally replied, forcing a casual tone that you didn’t quite feel right. “Just someone I met recently. A friend of a friend.”

He didn’t say anything, nodding his head, his back still turned to you. “His name’s Alex.” you started again, needing to hear him say something, anything, about your date.

When Alex asked you out, your mind immediately rushed to thoughts of Jace. There were moments with Jace where you wondered if there could be something more between you two, but you had always brushed those thoughts aside, convinced that your friendship with Jace was too precious to risk. Yet, as you stood in his kitchen, the comfortable silence between you suddenly felt charged with unspoken questions and possibilities.

So, you had waited a few days, hoping for clarity. Hoping to see any sign that Jace felt the same way as you did, wishing for it to go further than just two friends who see each other all the time. But days passed without a clear sign from Jace, leaving you grappling with conflicting emotions. Each time you saw him, you found yourself searching his expressions, analyzing every word, hoping for a hint of reciprocation.

Yet, Jace remained his usual self, kindhearted and flirty, like he’d always been. Finally, you agreed to the date, mainly because of your mutual friend insisting that you’d be an amazing fit together, and partly because you needed to clear your head from Jace – the seemingly unrequited feelings choking you every time Jace held your hand or made a flirty joke.

A pang of jealousy crept into Jace’s heart when you uttered those words, catching him off guard. He had always cherished your companionship, relishing the moments spent together baking pies or simply sharing comfortable silences. However, the idea of someone else vying for your attention stirred unfamiliar emotions within him.

As he turned to face you, Jace struggled to maintain his usual easy demeanor. His hazel eyes, normally warm and inviting, now flickered with a hint of vulnerability masked by a forced smile. Inside, his thoughts raced, conflicting emotions swirling like a storm.

Alex… The name echoed in his mind, an unwelcome intruder in the sanctuary of your longstanding friendship. Jace couldn’t deny the sting of jealousy gnawing at him, mixed with a tinge of regret for not voicing his feelings sooner. He had grown so accustomed to your presence, your laughter, your quirks that made every day brighter. Now, the thought of someone else potentially claiming a piece of your heart unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

The intensity of these conflicting emotions tightened his chest, making it hard to breathe as he struggled to find the right words.

"Alex," he repeats, his voice softer than before. He hummed, "That's... that's nice."

Deep down, Jace knew he had missed his chance to tell you how much you meant to him, fearing it would jeopardize the precious friendship you shared. Now, faced with the reality of potentially losing you to someone else, he couldn’t help but wonder what could have been if he had spoken up sooner.

All of the hopes he’d built up ever since he’d started to notice his feelings had immediately crumbled because of Saturday’s dinner. Well, and Alex.

Jace cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Well, Alex better not disappoint. I won't have you trading apple pie for subpar desserts," he quipped, a hint of his usual playful tone returning to ease the tension in the room.

You chuckled softly, grateful for the familiar banter that lightened the mood. "Don't worry, I'll keep you posted on the dessert quality. It's a crucial aspect of any potential relationship, after all."

Jace nodded, managing a small smile. "Absolutely. Can't have you settling for anything less than the best."

As Jace finished rinsing the plates, he turned to face you, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "So, where are you and Alex going?"

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just dinner and a movie, nothing too fancy."

Jace nodded, the tightness in his chest easing just a little at the mention of the simple plan. He knew he should be happy for you, encouraging you to explore new connections, but the idea of you with someone else gnawed at him. He had grown so used to having you by his side, the thought of change was unsettling.

"You'll have to tell me all about it," He said, taking the seat next to you, like before. "And don't worry, I’ll be here with more pie if the date doesn't go as planned."

You laughed, feeling the warmth from Jace’s body next to yours creep up to your chest, heaving as your heartbeat sped up. Deep inside, you knew the date was just an attempt to escape from your feelings, but, as you sat there, watching the play of emotions across Jace's face, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his reaction than he was letting on. The usual warmth in his eyes had been replaced by a flicker of something else – something you couldn't quite place.

You had always been attuned to Jace's moods, able to read him like an open book, but in this moment, he seemed to be guarding his thoughts, carefully constructing a facade of nonchalance.

You had convinced yourself that the occasional flutters in your chest were nothing more than your own imagination, a product of your own hopeful desires.

Yet, as you sat there, watching the subtle play of emotions on his face, a glimmer of hope began to stir within you. Could it be possible that Jace had harbored feelings for you as well?

You quickly shook that thought away from your brain. It was dangerous to let yourself hope, especially now when you were about to go on a date with someone else. But as you sat there, so close to Jace that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, you couldn't help but wonder.

"Hey," Jace's voice broke through your reverie, soft and tinged with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "You okay?"

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at him. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about the date, I guess."

Jace nodded, his eyes searching yours. "Nervous?"

"A little," you admitted, surprised by your own honesty. "It's been a while since I've been on a proper date."

Jace's expression softened, and he reached out, placing his hand on yours. The gesture was familiar, comforting, but this time it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. "You'll be great," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Anyone would be lucky to go on a date with you."

For a moment, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry.

A charged silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken words and possibilities. Jace's hand lingered on yours, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. The simple touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself wishing you could freeze this moment in time.

But reality intruded, as it always did. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking the spell. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away to check it. "It's Alex," you said, your voice sounding strange to your own ears. "Confirming plans for tomorrow."

Jace nodded, his hand falling back to his side. "Right, of course." He stood up abruptly, moving to the sink to rinse out your empty glasses.

You watched his back, noting the tension in his shoulders. A beat of silence passed.

Jace turned back from the sink, his usual easy smile not quite reaching his eyes. "So, uh, want to watch a movie or something? Unless you need to head out soon..."

You glanced at your phone, then back at Jace. The thought of leaving now, with this strange tension between you, felt wrong. "No, I don't have to go yet. A movie sounds great."

Relief flickered across Jace's face. "Cool. You pick.”

As you made your way to the living room, Jace grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch. "Here," he said, draping it over your shoulders. "You always get cold during movies."

The gesture was so thoughtful, so typically Jace, that it made your heart ache a little. You settled onto the couch, and after a moment's hesitation, Jace sat down next to you, closer than usual but still maintaining a small gap.

You scrolled through the movie options, finally settling on one you both enjoyed. As the opening credits rolled, you found yourself hyper-aware of Jace's presence beside you. The warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his arm brushed against yours when he shifted position – it all felt amplified somehow.

About halfway through the movie, you noticed Jace stifling a yawn. Without thinking, you lifted the edge of the blanket. "There's plenty of room to share."

Jace hesitated for a moment before scooting closer, allowing you to drape the blanket over both of you. Now your sides were pressed together, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

As the movie played on, you found it harder and harder to focus on the plot. Your mind kept drifting to the man beside you, to the what-ifs and maybes that had been swirling in your head all day.

Your chest felt heavy as you felt Jace turn his face to look at you, a small frown creeping to his lips, quickly changed to a grin once you turned to him. Jace's eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. He leaned in slightly, then seemed to catch himself, pulling back and clearing his throat.

"We, uh, we should probably finish the movie," he said, his voice slightly husky.

You nodded, humming, not trusting yourself to speak.

The rest of the movie passed in a blur, your mind replaying that moment over and over. When the credits finally rolled, neither of you moved to turn off the TV, both seemingly reluctant for the evening to end.

Finally, Jace broke the silence. "So, um, good movie, right?"

You nodded, turning to face him. "Yeah, it was fun."

"It was," Jace replied, his eyes meeting yours. He’d simply agreed, not having paid a single ounce of attention to the screen the whole time. There was so much left unsaid in that gaze, so many words hovering on the tip of your tongue.

But the moment passed, and you knew it was time to leave. As you stood up, gathering your things, Jace walked you to the door.

At the threshold, you turned back to him. "Jace, I..."

He looked at you expectantly, a mixture of hope and apprehension in his eyes. But the words wouldn't come. “Nevermind,”

Jace placed a hang on your arm, fingers lightly gracing it, lingering, as if he was scared to break you. "Text me when you get home safe, okay?"

You nodded, offering him a small smile. "I will. Goodnight, Jace."

"Goodnight," he replied softly.

You stepped out into the cool night air, the door clicking shut behind you. The familiar street stretched out before you, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. As you began your walk home, your mind swirled with thoughts and emotions, each step amplifying the confusion that had settled over your heart. Eventually, sleep eluded you.

The next evening, you found yourself standing on Jace's porch once again, your hand hovering over the doorbell. You were dressed for your date with Alex, but something had compelled you to come here first. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe it was the lingering tension from yesterday that you couldn't shake.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the bell. A few moments later, Jace opened the door, surprise evident on his face.

"Hey," he said, his eyes taking in your outfit. "Wow, you look... amazing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks. I, um, I'm not really sure why I'm here. I guess I'm just nervous about the date and... I don't know, I wanted to see you first."

Jace's expression softened, and he stepped aside to let you in. "Come on in. We've got some time to calm those nerves before your big night."

As you followed him into the living room, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes kept darting to you, a mix of admiration and something else you couldn't quite place in his gaze.

"So," Jace said, settling onto the couch and patting the spot next to him, "what's got you so nervous? It's just dinner and a movie, right?"

You sat down, careful not to wrinkle your dress. "I know, it's silly. I just... it's been a while since I've done this whole dating thing. And Alex seems nice, but..."

"But?" Jace prompted gently when you trailed off. His heart jumped at his throat, bubbling with hopes.

You sighed, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know. I guess I'm worried that I'm not giving him a fair chance. That I'm comparing him to... to someone else before I've even given him a shot."

Jace's breath caught, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged with unspoken possibilities. "Someone else?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding. This was it – the moment of truth. "Jace…" you started.

But before you could finish, your phone buzzed loudly, making you both turn to it. It was a text from Alex, saying he was on his way to pick you up.

The spell broke, you stood up abruptly. "I should go. Alex will be here soon, and I don't want to keep him waiting."

Jace nodded, standing as well. "Right, of course." He walked you to the door, his hand hovering near the small of your back but not quite touching.

At the threshold, you turned to face Jace once more. The words you'd been about to say moments ago still hung in the air between you, unspoken but nearly tangible. Jace's hazel eyes searched yours, a mix of hope and resignation swirling in their depths.

He furrowed his brows, and you really focused on his face. He looked worried, a sad look to his eyes that you’d seen very few times before. Jace’s breathing seemed to get caught in his throat, “Don’t go,” he mumbled.

You stood frozen at the threshold, Jace's soft plea echoing in your ears. "Don't go." The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility. Your heart raced as you looked into Jace's hazel eyes, seeing a mix of vulnerability and hope that you'd never witnessed before.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. All the unspoken feelings, the lingering touches, the stolen glances – everything came rushing to the surface. You realized that this was the moment you'd been waiting for, the clarity you'd been seeking.

“What?”

Jace took a deep breath, his expression a mixture of determination and apprehension. "I mean, don't go on the date. Stay here. With me."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sank in. It felt like a dream, one you'd dared not hope for, and now here it was, laid bare before you.

Jace stood before you, his hazel eyes searching yours with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. His words hung in the air, urging you to make a choice. Stay here, with him, and confront the unspoken feelings that had lingered between you for so long – or leave, and go on a date with Alex, a safe choice but one that wouldn't resolve the tension that had built up between you and Jace.

For a moment, you felt torn. Your mind raced with questions – what if things didn't work out with Jace? What if risking your friendship ruined everything? – But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The years of unspoken words, the shared moments that had bound you together, all seemed to converge in this pivotal moment.

Taking a deep breath, you made your decision. You reached out, gently placing your hand on Jace's. "I... I want to stay," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "With you."

Relief washed over Jace's face, a smile breaking through the tension that had gripped him moments before. Without a word, he pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Before another word could be spoken, your phone buzzed again, this time more insistently. It was another message from Alex, likely wondering where you were.

With a sigh, you glanced at the message, then back at Jace. "I should probably let him know."

Jace nodded, his jaw tightening briefly. "Yeah, you should."

As you hit send, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, knowing that you were finally free to explore what had been silently growing between you and Jace for so long.

Turning back to Jace, you found him watching you with a mix of anticipation and affection. “I feel bad,” you admitted, “He was probably already waiting on me.”

He shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. He didn't wait long.”

“I’m practically standing him up,”

He frowned, “Do you still want to go?”

“No.”

“Then don’t stress yourself out about it.” He took a small strand of your hair into his hand, twisting it around in his fingers.

You hesitated for a moment before you nodded, "Yeah. No stress."

You brushed your phone away, focusing on him. His warm fingertips brushed against your lips, cutting short your thoughts. He gaze locked onto Jace's. Feelings of uncertainty mingled with excitement as you stood on Jace's porch, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes held yours with an intensity that spoke volumes, words unnecessary between you now.

"I'm glad you're staying," Jace murmured, his voice barely audible over the soft evening breeze.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of the moment. "Me too," you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly.

Without breaking eye contact, Jace gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your bottom lip. “Come inside,” he almost whispered, his tone dropping lower.

As Jace's fingers brushed against your lips, a surge of electricity shot through you, sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. His touch was tender, filled with unspoken desire and a longing that mirrored your own. You gazed into his eyes, seeing the depths of emotion swirling within them.

With a shared understanding, you nodded softly, “Okay.”

The anticipation was palpable, your breaths mingling in the cool air. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Jace closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

It was soft yet intense, a fusion of years of unspoken feelings finally breaking free. Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. Jace responded eagerly, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

The warmth of Jace's body against yours, the taste of his lips against yours, it all felt so right, so natural.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads resting against each other, you both were breathless. Jace's hands remained on your cheeks, his thumbs softly caressing your skin as he gazed at you with adoration.

He took a step back, the arm around your waist pulling you inside the house with him. Once the door was closed, his mouth moved to your neck.

Your mind raced, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Jace's touch ignited a fire within you, his lips trailing along your neck as he led you inside. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, every sensation heightened by the realization that this was no longer just friendship – iit was something deeper, something you had both yearned for but never dared to voice until now.

In the dim light of his living room, Jace's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding as you felt his warmth seep into you, filling the spaces you never knew were empty.

Without a word, Jace captured your lips in another kiss, his movements gentle yet urgent, a silent plea for everything you both had kept hidden for so long. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with a passion born from years of unspoken longing.

Time seemed to stand still as you explored each other's lips, each touch a revelation, each breath shared between kisses, a lingering of the unspoken bond that had always been between you. The weight of uncertainty and missed opportunities lifted off your shoulders, replaced by the certainty that this was where you were meant to be right at that instant.

When you finally parted, both breathless and dazed, Jace rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. His gaze searched for yours, a silent question lingering between you, answered by the shared understanding in your eyes.

"I've wanted this for so long," Jace murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath mingling with yours.

You nodded, unable to find words but conveying everything through the touch of your lips against his, the warmth of your embrace, and the unspoken promise of what was to come.

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd #hotd jacaerys #harry collett #jacaerys oneshot #house of the dragon #prince jacaerys #jace velaryon

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nsharks · 11 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part ten —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter kicked my butt. thanks for the patience~

An ear-splitting gunshot bites the ground near your boot, close enough to feel the heat simmer through the worn leather. It takes everything in you not to freeze in terror. You grab Blue and run.

Adrenaline kicks into high gear once again, but with her dead weight and your lack of strength, you know you can't get far. You manage to tumble behind a stack of rusted bins just as another round fires.

Blue clings to you. "He's following us!"

Your heart sinks as your fingers reach for your bow— you left it.

"Give me your gun," you sputter quickly.

She shoves the unfamiliar weapon in your hands. A tremble consumes your body as you peek over the barrel to find your target. For a second, you see your attacker as he passes by one of the jeeps. A young man no older than yourself.

Without hesitation, you close an eye and go for his heart, but the bullet grazes the top of his shoulder with a spray of blood. Used to a bow, you aimed too high.

He barks out a swear and then lifts his rifle in retaliation. Before he can shoot, a Grey bursts through the window of the jeep, clamping down on his neck. His throat turns to gore. The gun falls from his grip as screams of pain quickly turn to muffled groans.

Relief and horror pound through your veins. That was close. Too close. You have to get Blue out of here. But how—

There is no chance to decide. Suddenly, she screams again. You whip around to meet the slash of a long knife and the flush of cold air as your coat is torn. Someone has snuck up behind you. You fumble with the gun but the attacker knocks it out of your hand, then fists your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. It happens so fast. You can't even get a good look at him— only the wild stare of his eyes and the strength of his stature. Whoever these people are, they are certainly better fed than that man in the woods.

You thrash against him, hurling saliva at his face. Apparently, he didn't expect that because he hisses, "Fuck."

You use the distraction to grab your own knife, the only weapon on you, and blindly drive it into the taut muscle of his thigh. He howls, letting go of your hair, and you slip away just enough to dodge the next swipe of his blade.

The fight is short-lived. You've grown stronger, but not enough to fight a man. He is skilled and bulky. Your attempts to hit him are futile. His knife catches you in the forehead, sending a curtain of blood down your face, and he grabs hold of your hair once again.

"Gonna cut your throat first," he murmurs, low and gravelly. "Then your little lamb's."

He will kill you. Then her. You can't let him. You won't. Something animalistic takes hold of you. You do the only thing left you can think of— bite. Hard. The sickening taste of human flesh and hot blood fills your mouth as you rip out a chunk of his nose.

"You bitch!"

He clutches his oozing face. Blue shouts at you, her finger jutting toward something— the Grey. Done with its first meal, it draws toward the scent of fresh blood. Before your attacker can recover, you throw all your weight at him, which isn't much, but it is enough to make him lose his footing and veer into the Grey's path. It grabs hold and sinks another bite into his face.

Suddenly, two more gunshots ring out. One to the Grey's head, and the other through the man's eye. Both bodies flop dead to the ground. Before you can panic, a wild-eyed Ghost returns in long strides.

"Blue!" he bellows.

"Dad!" she yells back.

He heads straight for her, quickly dipping down to check her bandaged leg and search for any other wounds. Fear has forced her eyes to stay open, her body stiff and alert. There is a wet stain at the crotch of her jeans.

"They tried to kill us," she cries.

“I'm here, baby. I won't leave you again.”

You wipe the blood off your face and glance around, panting so hard your lungs hurt. The air reeks of carnage and gunpowder, but the firing has ceased.

"They attacked us," you speak in a raw shout. “Two of them. Did you— Are the rest gone?"

He nods. "Could be more nearby. Let's get out of here before we find out."

He slings the rifle over his shoulder and scoops up Blue without an ounce of the effort it took for you to do so.

He moves fast. Retrieving your bow, you push hard to keep up with him.

Twilight tints the sky purple. You make it past the fence and zig-zag through the medical tents when movement catches your eye again.

"Ghost, to the right!" you scream.

You knock an arrow onto the string, aiming for the distant figure. But the movement multiplies, more shadows lurking towards you with uneven gaits. Not people. Greys. The realization forms a pit in your stomach.

"They can fucking smell us," you choke out.

"Hit the faster ones!"

Arrow after arrow, you aim for the ones that move with the stamina of a more recently infected. To your right. To your left. Ghost carries Blue with one arm and shoots with his handgun. More and more crawl out like cockroaches, no doubt catching a whiff of the blood that stains all three of you.

Two built like linebackers run wildly up to Ghost from either direction. He shoots one, while the other grabs him by the shoulder. You launch an arrow at its skull, your aim more precise now that you're not shooting bullets, and it lets go of him with a squeal.

When the trees grow thicker, it becomes harder to see them. Despair pushes a cry up your throat when you slap a hand back to your quiver and feel two arrows left.

A slippery mix of mud and leaves suddenly takes you down to the ground, your knees landing on a hard tree root. You swear under your breath, fumbling to get back up, when a Grey you hadn't noticed behind you lunges on top, slamming you back down. Pain shoots through your ribs as you frantically roll around, thrusting a forearm against its throat to avoid its opened mouth and kicking your knees into its chest. Then, a fiery bullet lodges into its forehead, the Grey going limp on top of you with a splatter of brains and coagulated fluid.

"Get up, Twix!" Ghost barks.

You shove the body off and scramble to your feet, legs feeling like jelly, but you force them to keep running.

You whip a brief look behind you.

"There's too many— I'm almost out of arrows!"

"The river," Ghost throws over his shoulder. "Those fucks can't swim."

You realize his idea when the roar of water greets your ears. Ghost doesn't hesitate to sprint onto the rusty rebar, slipping his gun away to hold Blue with both arms.

You follow behind, forcing your eyes on the bank ahead as you slow down to keep balance. All you have to do is get across and the river will take care of the rest. Heartbeats pound in your skull, each step requiring an unfathomable amount of focus that you struggle to muster. You're about halfway there when you hear the splash of Greys falling in, and a brief glance below causes your footing to falter.

This time you fail to grab the beam.

Cold water envelops you like a million needles.

A mouthful of water burns down your throat, and for a moment, you can't move. Can't breathe. Everything spins around you. It's not until your feet collide with something hard - the bottom of the riverbed - that your brain registers what's happening and you kick out to propel yourself up.

You break the surface for a gulp of air before the current pulls your head back under. Your arms flail around in search of something to grab. Just when you latch onto what feels like a log, a hand seizes your ankle with a hungered screech. You slam your foot back, over and over, more water filling your mouth as you struggle to kick the Grey and hold on at the same time.

Finally, the rotten skull caves in and the current sucks it away. With your leg freed, you haul yourself up the log toward the edge of the river. You begin climbing up the cliffside, using the twisted roots as footholds, your hands digging into caked soil. You're almost to the top, but you feel numb and weak. So weak. You can't find anything else to grab. The wet sole of your boot begins to slip.

"Grab on!"

A gloved hand stretches down. Ghost is crouched above, Blue now on his back so can he lean over. You grip his hand and he pulls you up, until you collapse on the ground, wet and shivering.

You cough up water and bile.

"Bloody fucking hell.”

It's been a while since you've thought about dying. You've made it this far, instinct always taking the reins and pushing you onward. But now, as the reality of the cold, wet clothes clinging to you sets in, you consider asking Ghost to just shoot you. It would be quicker than freezing to death, and a much better fate than drowning or turning Grey. At least you know Blue will be safe now.

Before you can form the words, you hear the shuffling of fabric. A jacket, a beanie. Set on the ground beside you.

"Take off your clothes. Put these on."

The rest turns into a dream. You don't remember putting the clothes on, or standing up and moving your heavy limbs. You don't remember getting to the hunter's cabin, but the next thing you know, you are curled up on the floorboards beside a small fire, inhaling the musky smell of Ghost's oversized jacket, with the blanket you brought tucked around your bare legs. You don't feel cold anymore. Your head pounds. You can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, slow but present. Behind you somewhere, Ghost tends to Blue. You know this because you hear him whisper to her as her sobs are muffled by biting onto a shirt. Amelia, Amelia, he says to her. A name you've never heard before. He must be cleaning the wound, the pain of it causing her to thrash and kick. Then, the sounds fade, and you know she is asleep.

When your eyes finally tear away from the flames, you spot Ghost hunched over, lifting up his shirt. Dark blood and ink stain pale skin.

"You were shot?"

His eyes snap up. He regards you for a moment, and it is now you notice that most of the white of his mask has been stained with red from his kills.

"Knife," he says.

You don't know why you offer, or why he silently accepts. Somehow you end up knelt beside him, your cracked fingertips cleaning the puncture wound in his torso without a single word exchanged. It's not deep enough to need stitches. You clear the blood and dab on antiseptic. The only sign he feels any pain is the flex of corded muscles beneath your touch and the occasional sharp inhale through the mask. His skin is oddly warm, a temperature that does some to ease the tension in your muscles.

When you're done, you roll the shirt back down. He doesn't say thank you, not that you expected him to.

You break the silence with a voice that barely hovers above a whisper. "You could've let me freeze."

His brows lower. "You could've let them kill her."

"I would never do that." When he doesn't respond, you glance at her sleeping form. "She's okay?"

"Just a graze," he confirms.

"She lost quite a bit of blood. She might need a few days to rest."

Your gaze shifts back to his. You quietly add, "Did you recognize them? Were they a part of the military?"

"Maybe. Their gear was. Didn't know them, though."

"Why did they try to kill us?"

He gives you a look. Of course. He tried to kill you for the same reason once.

"They have a camp nearby," you murmur the answer, more to yourself than to him. "Something to protect."

He gives a slow nod, then moves to grab his rifle and a hoodie to slip on in place of the thick SAS jacket he lent you. As he moves to the door, you realize what he plans to do. Keep watch.

You slip the beanie off and run your fingers over the cut on your brow when he says something just before leaving.

"For someone who once asked me to kill them, you fight hard to survive, Twix."

You don't know what to say. Just hours ago, you almost asked him to kill you again.

There's a beat of silence and then, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Do you fight so hard."

A breath sticks in your throat, and you stare at the floor. You're not sure why he is asking this, or why the answer is so hard to give.

"I... I don't know."

With that, he leaves. You watch the fire turn to dark embers. The faded adrenaline has left you with a fatigue you have grown familiar with. If you weren't so tired, maybe you would still be scared, your mind filled with fresh memories of gore and death and screaming. But you fall asleep quickly, scooting beside Blue and sinking into the warmth of his jacket.

#simon riley x reader #ghost #zombie apocolypse au #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod #cod mw2

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pseudowho · 10 months

Text

Grey

You live a vigilante life, taking down Curses and Curse Users on commission. When finances force you to take a job from Jujutsu High, you find yourself stumbling into Nanami Kento's lap, where he has a proposition for you instead.

ThatHigurumaBathScene! But with Nanami Kento. Post Shibuya AU.

Warnings: AU!MorallyGrey Nanami Kento, Hot/ColdDom Nanami Kento, 18+, deep throat and other goodies, you know what you're here for.

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I hate to say I'm beginning to see My own reflection in my adversaries [...]

What's the price of a soul? What's its worth versus gold? I tried to beg for mine But it was already sold

Does nobody think twice? What does your hell look like? Does everyone have their price? Where they finally break

-- Sylosis, A Sign of Things to Come

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"So what can you tell me about this...Rogue sorcerer, that will make him easier to find?"

The backstreet diner was dimly lit, with a sickly orange light flickering above the window outside. Sounds and smells of greasy cooking seeped into your ears and clothes.

You swirled a spoon in your mug, already pissed off with the Jujutsu High representative, who seemed to find new ways to be spectacularly unhelpful with every answer he gave.

"He uses...a blunt blade of sorts. Wrapped in white cloth. He usually wears a suit. A tall man, I hear."

"Tall and in a suit. Right. That narrows it down. Thanks a lot."

The representative bristled. "You come highly recommended, despite being...unconventional," he sneered at you, "The sorcerer in question has been tracked to somewhere in this vicinity." A marked map, along with a slim folder, was tossed across the table to you. The representative stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off his suit. "You know your task. Convince him to come back and work for Jujutsu High again, or eliminate him. He's too unpredictable. He threatens the fabric of sorcerer society."

You were silent, appraising the folder's contents. "Threatens the fabric of sorcerer society," you scoffed. They said the same about you. Any sorcerer acting independently of the higher-ups' control, whether a danger to good people or not, was seen as a danger, a rogue element. You would make your own assessment of the man, if you found him.

For now, it was late, the sun long gone down. You had insisted upon all expenses paid, alongside a generous wage, and were surprised when your price was agreed upon immediately. As such, a very exclusive hotel had a room reserved for you, for as long as you needed it. It was of no real comfort to your sinking loneliness, but a warm bed came second to a warm companion, when living on the move never guaranteed a good night's sleep. Picking up the folder and your bags, you headed to your hotel, to begin your hunt for the nameless rogue sorcerer first thing in the morning.

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The hotel had a beautiful restaurant, you considered, sipping your wine with quiet hums of approval. Leaning forwards, your chin on your arched fingers, you pondered over dessert. As you perused the menu, you barely glanced at the tall figure pressing briefly against your side on his way past your table.

"Excuse me," murmured a low, smooth voice. A spiced, warm cologne filled your senses as you turned briefly, watching a tall blond figure walk away from you. You thought nothing more of it.

After dinner, on your way up the hotel room's corridors, you felt through all of your pockets, certain you had picked up your key card, but hopelessly unable to find it.

By the time you reached room number seventy-three, you were forced to accept you had lost it. Yet, you were about to turn on your heels and head back to Reception when you noticed the door, already slightly open. Sensing a trap, and holding little but disdain for traps, you walked in with confidence, closing the door behind you, locking it.

Scanning the room, you called out; "I'm not that easily spooked. I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me."

You heard a low, sultry chuckle from the bathroom, the gentle swish of water sounding as something shifted in it. You may have been forced to eat your words, when a rush of Cursed energy that was so powerful, so heavy, hit you, a sandstorm on a desert. You had a sinking realisation that your rogue sorcerer may have hunted you down, before you'd hunted him.

"Are you going to come in?" the smooth voice called from the bathroom, as you forced yourself to take a breath. "I don't bite." Shaking yourself off, you pressed your body flat to the wall, concealed, as you pulled open the bathroom door. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. You heard the man, humming a song to himself. Slow swishes of water.

Glancing in, your tummy twisted as you took in the sight before you. Lying spread-eagled in the full bathtub, fully-clothed, was a man as well-grown and vast as his Cursed energy. Long legs, clad in an expensive black suit, and thick thighs pressed over the lip of the tub, wet clothes clinging to every peak and mountain of the man's body, leaving little to the imagination. In his hands, a small pair of dark glasses. His face, as of yet, not visible, but his left hand and his neck were covered in thick, red burn scars.

"Somebody's been using my bath," you offered, more nervous than you sounded. Heat pooled in your belly as the man chuckled again.

"Does that make me Goldilocks?" he asked, "I always thought I was more of a Daddy Bear." He lifted his head, looking at you now, and you blushed. Outstandingly handsome, even with deep scarring, you groaned inwardly to yourself, why are the problematic ones always so handsome?

"I've heard a lot about you," the blond man mused, swirling the water with his fingertips, his visible slim brown eye burning up and down your body, and you felt so completely seen, feeling his gaze burn even through his eye patch.

Outwardly cool, you smiled slightly at him, eyes narrowing; "Then you probably already know what I'm here for." The man sighed, in equal measures amused and exasperated.

"Jujutsu High have been after me returning to their sloppy little books for years. What did they think sending you after me would do?" He polished his glasses, before looking to you sternly, "Unless they've recruited you, hmm? Is that it? Are you a honey-trap?" You scoffed, your blush only deepening, much to the blond man's amusement. Swiftly and to your alarm, the man began to climb out of the bath, water cascading off him. Your stomach clenched again, desire coiling within. This man is an Adonis.

He raised his hand to you as you flinched, reaching for your weapons; "Calm down. I have no interest in hurting you." The man straightened, dropping his suit-jacket to the floor with a wet slap. "Those pieces of shit at Jujutsu High, however..." He approached you slowly now, looming over you, disgust in his eyes, "...who have no regard for your wellbeing, or any of their own sorcerers and students for that matter, would happily send you to try to threaten me back, even when they know it would be a fight you could never win."

He pressed against the wall above your head with his forearm now, leaning down to your ear and whispering.

"What was it you said, Little Bear? I'm not trapped in here with you; you're trapped in here with me." Your heart thumped behind your breasts, but you raised your head to meet his eye, one hand on his chest to prevent him getting any closer. He grasped your hand, pressing it to him, "The name's Nanami Kento. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shit shit shit. "Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento?" you cried, "They sent me after you? You're not even--" you faltered, and Kento smirked as you caught on.

"Not even, strictly speaking, a Curse User, no," he finished for you, "Just not at their beck and call. I hunt what I want, when I want. Freelance, if you will. Just like you, Little Bear. So tell me, are you in such dire straits, a talent such as yourself, that you needed to accept me as a job?"

You huffed, head turning to the side, and Kento traced his eyes down your breasts, hardening inside his wet trousers.

"You don't only kill Curses, Nanami," you deferred, "you're a man-killer too. Your kill count is impressive to say the least."

Kento eyed you shrewdly, voice low and slow, "Would you call them men? Rapists, abusers, murderers...there are all sorts of monsters in this world." You gulped. You didn't disagree with him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that you could not complete this job. Despite his assurances that he would not hurt you, his huge frame blocking your exit, the way he had stolen your key card at the restaurant to intercept you, and the threat you posed to his vigilantism, spoke differently.

"You could always come with me," Kento purred, "we're kindred spirits already. And a bit of company might be a pleasant change. I'll pay you whatever they promised." His soft assurances were warm and honeyed against your ear, and you felt acutely how lonely you were.

"I don't need your money," you spat, pushing him away now, furious with yourself for even considering his offer. Kento stepped reluctantly away from you, a prize which he had every reason to allow himself to be caught by. You, the stories of whose exploits Kento had drank up, coming to hunt him down? He was flattered and thrilled when his informant at Jujutsu High warned him.

"Imagine what a team we could be," Kento growled, pacing in front of you, incensed that you couldn't see how simple and beautiful the solution could be.

In truth, you saw it. You saw yourself working with this man on your shared aims. You saw yourself ridding the world of Curses and monsters without agenda, but with him. It was with a sinking feeling that you knew if you chose to go with Nanami, the brittle mutual understanding you had with Jujutsu High to leave you alone as long as you offered them occasional services, would be lost. You risked becoming an enemy, a rogue element like him.

"It's not what I came here for," you responded stiffly, Kento wide-eyed with fury at your rejection, scarred skin strained against his eye patch. You straightened, putting a brave face on your fragile resolve as you turned your back on him, grabbing the door handle. "I won't be coming with you. I'll tell Jujutsu High exactly what you think of their offer. It won't be me who bothers you anymore."

As you moved to leave, you felt strong, corded arms move around you to hold the door closed, one wrapping tightly around your waist. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth.

"Stay," Kento urged, pulling you back to him.

"I thought you killed rapists," you spat at him. His arms stiffened around you.

"Please, don't compare me to scum. I don't need to rape you to get you into bed with me." Despite yourself, your pulse throbbed in your ears, and between your legs. "You're lonely. I'm lonely. We have shared goals. We could defy their system together." His mouth ghosted against your neck and he was delighted to feel you shiver against his tongue.

Feeling bolder, Kento laid his hand over the back of yours, grasping, and pressing them flat together against the wall. As he leant you forwards, his teeth sank into the back of your neck, and the wetness from his suit seeped through your clothes. He was so close, you couldn't tell where you began and he ended. The urge to give in was dizzying, images of chasing a different life with this man rushing through you a mile a minute, and you felt him pause for a moment, shivering against you.

"Cold," he murmured on your neck. "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes?" You couldn't answer him, too overwhelmed by the press of his cock, insistently rigid, against your back. He kissed your neck again, hard. "Just to feel something." His fingers, cool and rough, slipped underneath the bottom of your shirt, nails grazing against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"I don't...Nanami, I'm not..." He groaned, still breathing heavily against you.

"I want you," he intoned against you, "Maybe you can have something better than what you came here for."

"You're...you're a stranger to me," you gasped, resolve crumbling, body crying out for affection and release.

"I don't have to be," Nanami pressed, squeezing your hand, joined with his against the wall, "so let me show you what being needed really is...and then you can decide what you want to tell Jujutsu High."

Kento turned you round to face him, his one visible warm brown eye hooded with desire, beginning to unbutton his own shirt as he stroked your jaw, maintaining eye contact. You stared him down, vulnerable, tearful and overwhelmed. His thumb swiped across your eyes, hushing you softly.

"I know you don't want me to stop...do you?" he purred, his voice low and dangerous. You trembled, never wanting to find companionship like this, but sinking into Nanami's insistent control felt so intoxicating. Increasingly fearful of your own desires, you backed away to the wall again, pursued by Nanami, who blocked you in place, his knee pressed against the wall and between your legs.

"Please..." you began, begging him for...what? Pleasure? Or escape? You warred with yourself, as Nanami finished removing his shirt, wet and peeled off his body, and gods was he a sight to behold. His taut muscles and roughly hewn burn scars drew your eyes to his chest, drinking him in. Nanami smirked, tilting your chin up to him and pulling you in firmly for a kiss which broached no argument. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Nanami took full advantage, plundering his tongue into your mouth, filling your senses with whiskey and smoke. Your arms, numb with shock, were grasped by Nanami, one by the wrist and placed against his burned chest, and one slipped under his belt, your palm flat against the trail of hair on his abdomen, just deep enough for your fingertips to graze the base of his cock.Your fingertips flinched back, and Nanami's hand pressed over yours, holding your fingers in place, his tongue trembling against yours as he shivered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled again, his mouth beginning to make a course down your jaw and neck. Leaning away momentarily, he read your face, flushed with pleasure, tears of rage in your eyes. Nanami chuckled behind your ear, nipping your earlobe hard until you squeaked and cringed. You didn't want him to stop, but couldn't be a part of making this decision for yourself. Nanami pushed your hand deeper behind his belt, the flat of your palm now pressed hard against his throbbing erection, happy to make the decision for you. Tentatively, you squeezed him, cock pulsing enticingly against your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth.

Nanami's last reservations about your willingness fell away completely, and he grabbed your jaw roughly, his hand extending to your throat and squeezing the sides, deepening his kiss. You squeaked again, your nails digging into his chest, heat flooding through you as he maintained the pressure of your hand holding his cock behind his belt, rutting forwards into your palm. Nanami felt his pleasure beginning to peak, too early, and held his hips and your hand still for a moment,your panting breaths mingling together.

Silent, heart visibly racing through the thick veins in his neck, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you. His expression stern, determined, he gripped the front seam of your trousers and ripped them open as if they were made of paper, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, daring you to stop him. Lifting your thighs onto his shoulders as you gasped, wordless and chest heaving, your hands fell flat against the wall behind you, and Nanami rubbed his nose and lips against your puffy folds, all but completely exposed behind your soaked underwear. You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out as he inhaled deeply through his nose, euphoric in the smell of you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he hummed, the vibrations rumbling through your clit as you moaned, a high-pitched keening sound. Instinctively, both hands came off the wall to sink into Nanami's damp blond hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding his face between the heat of your legs. Rumbling his approval, Nanami's fingers swiped your underwear to the side, his tongue delving deeply between your folds, immediately beginning to flick insistently over your clit.

All rational thoughts went out of the window as Nanami licked and sucked between your legs, full attention paid to your pleasure, as you fell apart around him, thighs squeezing his head. Nanami's strong hands cupped your bum through your trousers, kneading the plush fat as he took your clit into his lips and sucked, feeling you shake as you approached the edge.

"Do you want me to stop?" he growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from whining your displeasure as he halted just before your orgasm hit you. Giving you no chance to answer, he took your clit firmly between his lips again, mouth and tongue hot and wet between your folds as you came, crying out and trembling, both hands clawing desperately at his hair, blinded by the peppering lights in your eyes.

Giving you no time to snap back to reality, you felt yourself being lifted and heaved over Nanami's shoulder. He kicked the bathroom door open, carrying you through to the bedroom and lounge, dimly lit by the Tokyo skyline outside. Nanami dropped you on your back onto the table, positioning you until your head hung off the edge. Neck extended as you stared up at him, panting, eyes glazed, Nanami hummed as he slowly fingered the outline of your throat, his other hand undoing his belt. You gulped, mouth watering as you realised his intentions.

Lifting his heavy cock out of his trousers, Nanami began to stroke it, thumb swiping across the leaking tip, and he looked down at you, pupils blown with lust. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, shuddering with anticipation as he felt your tongue run against his fingers, licking the precum off his fingertips.

"Do...you want me to stop?" He forced out, pupils dilating as you opened your mouth for him slowly, invitingly. "Oh, fuck," groaned Nanami, pressing his length past your lips, hissing as the sensitive tip glided over your tongue and hit the back of your throat, curving to its shape, and he bucked into you, hands gripping your jaw and throat with bruising force as you gagged around him.

Nanami pulled out for long enough for you to take a deep breath through your nose, before fucking your throat with total abandon. Your wet gags and sloppy occasional breaths sent him reeling, his fingers resting on the outer edges of your throat thrilling him as he felt his cock bully past them. Hearing Nanami cursing, his voice breaking with stuttered moans, you felt heat coil in your belly, hands reaching out to grip his wet thighs to ground yourself. You felt so used, eyes streaming into your hair as he reached down your body, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached between your legs and curved two fingers up into your pussy, still wet from his tongue, his thumb swiping urgently over your clit. You convulsed, your hypersensitive clit tossing you into a painful second orgasm as your muscles fluttered against his curled fingers.

"Do you...do you want-- ahhh, fuck, take it take it, you're such a good girl," Nanami caged youin, hands flat on the table beside your waist, his balls hot and heavy against your nose as he came with a shout, rivers of cum trickling down your throat as you gagged, nails digging into his thighs as he rutted into your mouth, stunned by the strength of his orgasm. He pulled out of your mouth, sweaty and panting, his abs heaving in front of your face, stroking drops of his seed away from the sides of your mouth as you gasped and coughed on the table.

"Not enough," he gasped, stroking himself, half-hard already as the sight of you, spread and messy with cum on the table, "it's not enough. I'm not finished with you yet." You began to sit up, turning on the table, moving slowly towards him as he spoke again, stumbling and sweating, "Do you want me to--" Nanami was cut off by your kiss, forceful and determined as you locked your arms behind his neck.

Groaning appreciatively, carrying your weight as you locked your legs around his waist, Nanami stumbled to the bed, kicking off his trousers and beginning to rip your clothes off you. Your breasts freed, he latched aggressively onto your nipples, growling against you, completely absorbed in his plan to pound you into the mattress until you saw stars.

You bit into his shoulder blade as your trousers and underwear were flung unceremoniously aside, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, where he bottomed out in one smooth thrust, making you shriek as your pussy stretched, and you grasped onto him as you struggled to accommodate his size. Unexpectedly intimate, Nanami clasped his hand to yours, joined as he braced on his forearm above your head.

"I can't...I can't stop," Nanami choked out, slamming into you with a force that had you reeling. Barely held in place as his hips slammed yours up the bed, you locked your ankles behind Kento's hips, and he grasped you, pressing your knees to your chest until you were folded in two. Feeling his eye patch about to slip loose, and momentarily afraid you'd be disgusted by him, Nanami buried his face in your neck, grunting with every thrust as you mewled in his ear, your fingers deep in his hair, causing shivers down his spine.

You groaned, sultry and guttural, as his thick cock pounded your cervix, shuddering as you came, heat deep in your belly as Kento collapsed onto you, weak and drained as his seed filled you again, so overwhelmed by pleasure that he thought he may have seen god for a moment.

Flopping beside you on the bed, Nanami patted around above your head for his eye patch. Your hand reached up, grabbing his, lowering it to clasp together between your bodies. Nanami felt his chest clench, momentarily touched by your companionship and easy acceptance of his broken body.

"...what the hell am I going to tell Jujutsu High?" You groaned, as Nanami laughed richly, shooting you a wicked look.

"You'll come with me, then?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

1K notes · View notes

facility-of-tartugan-technology · 5 months

Note

Re reading and just cackling at just imagining the aftermath of chapter 1. Just

Donnie: "ok fine I guess I'll let them out, they slowly stopped moving around anymore so they're probably just calming down anyway from realizing that it's safe"

Orion: **fucking passed out and limper than a bowl of noodles with no signs of waking up for hours**

Donnie:

🙂💧

👉🏻👈🏻

Ehehehe, ah yes, Donnie may be the smart one, but he’s also a massive pun intended goofball XD

Glad to know you are humoured by this

#jay responds #fc au #filling companions au

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

give you my wild, give you a child | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x pregnant fem!reader oneshot

summary: your second trimester while pregnant with baby bear is way sexier than you expected.

warnings: smut, breeding kink, language, 18+ only, barely proofread.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: hi it's me with the second trimester sexapalooza smut i promised @starbritestarlite and @carmensberzattos. and with this new season, let me know if you want to be added to my carmy taglist!! i wrote this as a companion piece to the 'make my heart heart surrender' universe, specifically for the 'carmy as your baby daddy' headcanon/social media au series. anyways, i've been thoroughly enjoying season 2 and am sitting into the fact that i've created my own universe inside of their universe. god we love fanfic. anyways... this is nsfw so 18+ only.

Today 2:21 pm

Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: On the way home for lunch.

You: Hurry, baby.

Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: You good, sweet girl?

Your reply is almost instant, and Carmy wonders what could possibly come next as he sees the three dots appear below your message, indicating that you’re still typing.

It’s a link, his eyes widening as soon as it appears in his iMessage history with you.

You: Hottest Sex Positions For Pregnant Women | Cosmopolitan

Before he can notice that it feels ten degrees hotter in the room, that his face has turned cherry red, that his pants are beginning to feel unbearably tighter, he’s interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“You good, chef?” Marcus asks, as he passes by, noticing the red tones that have risen to Carmy’s cheeks.

“Wh-, oh yeah!” Carmy answers, almost too quickly, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Marcus shoots him a strange look, examining his boss’ face.

“Just uh… gotta go home for lunch.”

3:03 pm

“What took you so long?” you practically growl as soon as Carmy gets through the door.

He hasn’t even had a chance to close it properly before you’re on him like a moth to a flame. Dressed in the cutest pair of white shortalls, you’ve been working from home all day – or rather, mindlessly clicking through your e-mail while waiting for Carmy to come home all day, your mind preoccupied with the fact that Carmy hasn’t been home to give you exactly what you want.

What you need, may be the better description.

It’s as if the spirit of Eros himself has taken you over, unable to focus properly as your rapidly changing body needs is practically screaming out for one thing and one thing only:

To be properly and thoroughly fucked by the man that got you here in the first place.

“I-,” he begins, attempting to explain that he was running a little behind and got caught up giving feedback to one of his new line cooks before your mouth is on his in an all-consuming kiss.

Now that he’s here, you regret even asking him, careless for the why when it feels this good to have him pressed up against your body. Your lips are desperate, hungry, intense, as you tangle yourself into him. It’s as if you can finally relax, like you can finally take a breath, now that your husband is finally here.

He lets out a little groan of surprise against your mouth, as if you’ve charged towards him like the sexual equivalent of a tasmanian devil.

And in his defense, you have.

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Should we-, can we even-, shouldn’t you be working?”

He’s not wrong.

You should be working.

But the unbelievable and insatiable need for sex – for sex with Carmy – is the only thing driving you these days, holding you hostage to its unbelievable and all-encompassing power. You’re like a woman possessed as you reluctantly pull away from him to put his mind at ease. Your lust-filled eyes look him over, his curls already wild from a long day at the restaurant, as you shake your head ‘no.’

“I finished all my work for the day and signed off early. Perks of being a start-up sellout,” your well-kissed lips inform him.

Carmy’s head spins in response to your answer.

Maybe it’s the prospect of the sex.

Maybe it’s the way it’s the way your mouth feels against him as you kiss down his jawline and his neck.

“Okay, but I gotta be back at the restaurant at 4:15,” he smiles in agreement, more than happy to oblige.

“That’s plenty of time,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe.

This time it’s Carmy who initiates, using both of his hands to cradle your face before his mouth is over yours again. The kiss starts slowly this time as he inhales deeply, taking you in. You shift closer, pressing your slightly-rounder-these-days belly against his body once more. He moans, his hands immediately traveling down your body, to your hips as he breathes you in again, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever. His touch ignites something in you and you allow yourself to surrender, lost in the feel of his hands against you. His hands are everywhere – your hips, traveling up your belly, dancing across your fuller-than-normal breasts – and finally the drawn-out unrest of your mind can finally find peace.

He’s starting to get used to this.

And he’ll admit that he really, really likes it.

Carmy changes positions with you so that he can press you up against the front door as you continue your passionate makeout.

Your first trimester had been hell – mornings spent on the bathroom floor together while you hurled the contents of your stomach into the toilet, days where you barely had the energy to get out of bed, nights where you were too hot to sleep that all you could do was lay on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, frustrated tears pouring out of the corners of your eyes – your body undergoing the hardest reset of your life.

So when the fog and tumultuousness of your first trimester subsided, it was a more than welcomed change – and in so many ways. You’ve traded mornings of flat ginger ale, saltines, and sympathetic back rubs, with mornings spent tugging on Carmy’s perfect curls while you cried out his name.

“You smell like sandwiches,” you giggle in between kisses.

“Ah shit. I should shower,” he sighs, reluctantly.

He knows your sense of smell has been heightened lately, and he can’t imagine that smelling like a spicy Italian sandwich would be much of a turn on for you. He begins to pull away, but there’s now way in hell you’re letting him go as you grab his hands in yours.

"No, Carmy, I can't wait,” you whine, the sound of your voice the most needy, beautiful thing Carmy’s ever heard in his life.

“You could join me,” he offers with a raise of an eyebrow, presenting a solution you can absolutely get behind.

“Uh huh. Yes please,” you nod eagerly, a girlishness to the way you answer him.

Please.

Your usage of the word’s got him harder than a rock and he loves this side of you. Your sex life had been great before the pregnancy, but there’s something different about it now. Something about how needy you’ve been – the only thing that can possibly quell the fire inside of you being him – has him unraveling at the seams.

How could he possibly say no when he’s more than eager to give you exactly (and then some, if it’s up to him) what you want?

Your fingers are still tangled in his, licking your lips as you add, “My baby daddy thinks of everything.”

Carmy shakes his head, tugging at your hands as he leads you towards the bathroom, mentioning that he still can’t get over the fact that you’ve chosen to call him that in front of everyone you’ve ever known. You remind him that it’s cute, and though he’s not sure he gets it, he lets you do it anyway because it makes you happy.

As you both reach the bathroom, you patiently wait as Carmy turns on the shower, running a hand through the stream of water to check the temperature. One minute he’s focused on the cool water coming down from the showerhead, and then next he’s caging you in between his body and the bathroom sink.

“You miss me this much, pretty girl?” he murmurs dreamily, his hand trailing up your inner thigh.

You nod, taking note of how perfectly his top lip fits in between yours.

“Yes, baby. Thanks for coming home for lunch,” you manage to get out, in between desperate kisses.

“No need to thank me,” he smirks, a newly-found confidence in his voice.

His hands are tugging at the hem of your shorts, as if he could slide the overalls down your body this way, a small pang of frustration welling deep in his stomach as he realizes that’s not going to happen. He kisses you with a fervor that makes you dizzy, as Carmy fumbles with the straps of your overalls. Trying his best to unclasp one side, he tosses the strap over your back, a clang sounding out within the four walls of the small room as the metal of the claps hits the porcelain of the sink.

Carmy lets out a groan as he tugs at the second strap, causing you to giggle.

“These stupid things,” he huffs, a look of embarrassment running through his brilliant blues.

“Here, baby,” you say, slipping one of your arms out of the tangled strap.

He groans as soon as his eyes meet yours again, more than happy to help you out of these damn things.

He pulls the overalls down with a rigor that stops right as the overalls drop to your waist, revealing your white tank top – one that you’re not wearing a bra underneath.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, his hands ghosting over where your nipples stand erect against the fullness of your breasts.

“You been like this all day?” he mutters against your skin, leaning down to drag his mouth over your still-clothed breasts.

“Mmmmhm. Needed you,” you moan, your eyes closing as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He’s so incredibly hard right now it’s not even funny.

“Yeah?”

By the time you open your eyes again, Carmy’s on his knees, so gentle, so tender with the way he slides the rest of the piece of clothing over the bump that’s been growing inside of your belly.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

You shimmy out of your overalls as Carmy jumps back to his feet, removing your tank so that the only thing you have left is the pair of panties you’re still wearing. Before he can kiss you again, you’re tugging off his shirt, a sacrifice, an offering to the bathroom floor.

“Should be warm enough, yeah?” you ask, gesturing towards the shower.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, removing his shorts.

You feel all the blood in your body rush south as you see how hard he is already, swallowing hard. Carmy helps you into the shower, like the gentlemen he is, and you hope that’s where the gentleness ends.

Before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you towards him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist as the warm water begins to wash over the both of you.

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl,” he hums as his nimble fingers slip between your legs. He groans as soon as he feels how goddamn wet you are.

“Fuck, honey.”

“See? I told you I needed you, Carm,” you pant, letting out a high keening moan as he draws lazy circles around your clit. You’re already bucking your hips into his hand and he’s barely started touching you.

"You're so sensitive. So responsive, sweet girl,” he teases you, as he drags his fingers through your folds. You are so unbelievably wet that he’s not sure how he managed to get so damn lucky.

"I just want you to fuck me, Carm. I’ve needed it all day. I need you to make me feel good," you beg, completely lost in the way his fingers feel as he slides two into you already.

It’s like his touch sets fireworks off in your brain, setting your nerves on fire as you cry out.

"Yeah?” he taunts you, an almost amused tone in his voice as he sets the slowest rhythm. “Think that’s how we got here in the first place, pretty girl.”

"I know,” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers for any kind of friction. For something more. For something faster. For something deeper. But at this rate, with how much he seems to enjoy teasing you, with how horny you are, you’ll take anything.

“But nothing feels as good as you, Carm.”

Your words go straight to his dick and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to leave you alone ever again – might as well quit his day job in exchange for this all-day never-ending second trimester sexapalooza you both seem to be caught inside of.

He’s practically choking on his words as he manages to ask you:

"What’s that, baby? Did you touch yourself while I was gone?"

You nod pathetically, moaning as he buries his thick fingers deep inside of you. He pauses, feeling the way your walls pulse around him as he stays inside of you, wanting to memorize this moment forever.

In any other circumstance, he’d make you fall apart on his fingers, and then his tongue before you even went there, but with your recent admission, he’s decided that he has to have you now. In one swift motion, Carmy pulls his fingers from you, releasing his grip on your leg, eliciting a whine at the loss of him.

Before you can even protest, he’s turning you around in the shower, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against your backside as he pulls you close.

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like this,” he taunts you, playfully, as he drags his cock through your folds a few times.

“Carm,” you whimper, bracing your hands against the shower wall. “Don’t tease.”

“What’s that?” he coos, pressing his thick tip against your clit.

“I don’t think I can take it. Please, baby,” you whine, so desperate for him to be inside of you. You push your ass back against him, offering your body to him for the taking.

“Fuck!” he grunts out, because he just can’t resist you like this.

You let out a sharp cry, as Carmy pushes himself inside of you, finally giving the thing you’ve wanted all day long.

Carmy sets a slow pace at first, burying himself all the way to the hilt, so that you can feel all of him – every single ridge, every single vein of his cock with each thrust – and with how sensitive, how turned on you are, you’re already seeing stars. His hands hold onto your waist, controlling the speed of your lovemaking, as you press your hands against the shower wall, bracing yourself. You want him everywhere, all around you, consuming you with every fiber of his being, as if all you can do is hold yourself up and let him know how good he’s making you feel.

Carmy’s lips are on your neck, leaving love bites across your shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings about how well you take him and how good you feel. And then he’s speeding up the pace of each thrust, pulling you back towards him. His hands are all over you: pressing you back against his chest, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples as he takes care of you.

His wife.

The mother of his child.

The love of his life.

You turn your head just enough so that you can kiss him as Carmy’s hand reaches up to cup your face, making sure that he can kiss you properly too. This time you’re standing up taller, grinding against him, wanting to touch your husband more than you need to hold yourself up against the wall. Your hand slips behind you, grabbing at whatever parts of him that you can, bracing yourself against him, as if you could get Carmy even closer to you, while the other is guiding his across your body, your fingers tangled together.

He’s perfect.

This is perfect.

It’s what you’ve been aching for all damn day.

“I need you, Carm,” you moan into his mouth, as the consistent feel of him thrusting in and out of you has you delirious.

"You have all of me, baby,” he reassures you in the tenderest tone of voice he can muster, his other hand resting just underneath your breasts as he fucks you.

"More."

"More?"

He’s not sure what ‘more’ could mean at this moment, but the dirty talk is so hot that he’s more than willing to find out. He slows down his pace, dragging his cock in and out of you and the most delicious pace.

"Yes,” you pant, pulling away from the searing kiss, your head hanging low. Your hands return to the shower wall as you arch your back, bending at the hips so that you can take him deeper as you add:

“I want to make you a daddy."

His hips stutter for a second, caught off guard by what you’ve just said.

"You-you are, sweetheart,” he chuckles, slowing his pace down for a moment as he watches himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Carmy,” you groan, in response to his change pace.

You’re grinding your ass against him, begging him to speed up, but his hands return to your hips, stopping you.

The sight alone, and what you’ve just said, he thinks to himself, might kill him.

You whine as Carmy brings his movements to a halt, trying to get him to fuck you again. But he can’t let what you’ve just said go unrecognized as he stills your hips.

"What was that? You like walking around like this, hmm? Everyone knowing what I've done to you?" he asks you, holding your hips so that you can’t move.

You’ll give him anything to get what you want.

Even if it means saying it again.

“Yes, baby,” you sigh, and Carmy lets out another moan as you squeeze around him.

“I want to make you a daddy. Just fuck me. Please.”

“Oh fuck,” Carmy mutters, knowing he’s not going to last much longer if you keep that up.

He pulls out of you, and before you can protest, he’s slamming back into you in a way that makes you sob. He sets a brilliant pace this time, and you're arching your back, pressing your hands against the wall even harder – and all you can do, all you want to do, is take it. Hearing you chant his name over and over takes over him. He’s a man determined, with a single-minded focus on giving you exactly what you want.

He’s reduced you to a moaning, mumbling mess, as you chase both of your orgasms.

“Touch me, Carmy,” escapes your lips, and he’s more than happy to oblige, his fingers immediately coming to your clit.

He’s so goddamn talented, using his cock and his hands to make you fall apart.

You feel a familiar coil in your belly, and with the way you’re squeezing around him, Carmy can tell your close.

“Come on, sweet girl. Go ahead and let go for me,” his voice sturdy, confident, strong.

And seconds later, your eyes slam shut as you’re crying out his name, falling over the edge as your husband pulls the most delicious orgasm from your body.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”

He’s right behind you – literally and figuratively – as Carmy’s thrusts become more erratic, finally letting go after exercising an impossible level of self control. He spills inside of you with a grunt, holding you against him as he pauses.

Breathless, you throw your head back, grateful that his shoulder is there to catch you. With the slightest turn of your head, you’re able to kiss him, placing the gentlest kiss against the corner of his mouth before Carmy’s hand comes up to lift your chin towards him again, so that he can kiss you properly.

“Holy shit, Bear,” you sigh, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Yeah,” he pants, trying to catch his breath with you.

You both take a beat, a moment to let your brains catch up with your bodies, just holding onto each other – savoring the way it feels to be in each others’ arms.

“I should uh… I should probably still shower,” Carmy starts, beginning to come back down to earth.

You turn back towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, entertaining him with slow, lazy kisses in between words.

“But why don’t you dry off and get into bed?” Carmy suggests, using a quiet yet direct tone, almost as if it’s an order.

It’s as if he knows that, though the last orgasm he’d just given you had been world-rocking, there’s no way in hell you’ll be satiated today with just one.

“Really?” you ask, hopefully with a giggle.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Heard, chef,” you tease him, eliciting a playful eye roll from him.

He releases you, giving you the time and space to wring out your hair and step out of the shower.

And as you do what he says, he rewards you for it, spending the rest of the afternoon with his face buried between your legs until he’s ready to go again.

“And we’ve got a special tonight. Lemon chicken piccata. We’re talkin’ major Berzatto family recipe, ok? So let’s make sure we’re talkin’ up, alright?” Richie announces, following it up with a reminder to all of his servers of the main talking point during tonight’s pre-shift meeting.

Carmy thinks he’s been stealthy as he attempts to sneak back into the restaurant, considering he’s thirty minutes late. He feels lucky that since everyone is preoccupied with the pre-shift meeting that they couldn’t possibly notice him slipping in this late. He hears the meeting end, making a mental note that tonight’s mise has been done right, praying that tonight’s service goes smoothly.

He has, afterall, been using up a lot of extra energy lately….

“Hey, Jeffrey. We were wondering when you’d be in tonight,” Tina comments, as she returns to the kitchen, ready to lead service tonight.

“Oh uh, yeah. Sorry, got caught up with some stuff,” he mumbles, avoiding her gaze as he doesn’t have an excuse or a cover story.

“Mmmhhhmmmm,” she sounds, passing him by, because it’s no secret what Carmen Berzatto’s been up to lately.

“Yo, cousin!” Carmy calls out, in search of Richie.

Carmy makes his way into the dining room, and as soon as Richie sees him, knowing what time it is – knowing that Carmy’s running late – he smirks. A blush runs over Carmy’s cheeks as Richie shakes his head with a laugh.

It’s as if Richie can see right through him, and suddenly, Carmy’s feeling incredibly exposed.

Richie wags a finger at his cousin, his laugh beginning to build.

“Ahhhh man, cousin,” he sighs, an amused look on his face as he continues. “No one warned ya, huh?”

“I-,” Carmy starts, searching for any and all excuses he could make up on the spot, to no avail.

“Men can’t resist a pregnant woman. Sheesh. Enjoy it while you can, jagoff.”

2K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 10 months

Text

Resignation

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You get to know Andy a bit more and put in your notice, but your boss doesn't it take it well. Word Count: Almost 4.4k Warnings: Slow burn, getting to know each other, sugar daddy contraction, tension, flirting, slight insecurities, inner monologue, yelling (apologies to anyone named Sean), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly Previous Part: Sign the Dotted Line A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The feeling of floating on cloud nine wasn't something you experienced much in your life. There were high points, of course, but nothing like the elation that filled you as Andy went to make a copy of the contract. It was almost dizzying to think that for the next three quarters of a year, everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.

All thanks to Andy.

Estelle shrieked as she pulled you to your feet. “You're a sugar baby! You're a sugar baby!” she sang, making you laugh as she did a little dance with it.

“I thought you said I was going to be his ‘companion’,” you teased.

She leveled you with a look. “It’s the same thing,” she said, grabbing her bag. “And since your new ‘companion’ is taking you to the diner, why don’t we celebrate tomorrow? You better give me all the details.”

You giggled again at the implication as she squeezed you in a tight hug. If you weren’t happy before, you would've been thanks to her infectious attitude. “You sure don’t need me to head down with you?”

“No, I’m good. You just enjoy the rest of the day,” she said, winking at you and pointing at Andy when he came back. “Have fun and be good to her or I’ll destroy you,” she told him as she walked by with every ounce of confidence you wished you had. “And nice meeting you!”

You half expected there to be an air of awkwardness once the two of you were left alone and were surprised not to feel it at all. It was hard to describe the atmosphere outside of that, but it was something both familiar and new. Maybe that was because Andy continued to put you at ease all while exciting you. The next chapter of your time would be unpredictable in ways that you were looking forward to encountering.

Did he feel the same way?

Andy chuckled after a moment, the sound bringing a smile back to your face as he held up the papers in his hand. “I realize this is probably a bit outdated since everything is done electronically, but I prefer it this way.”

“I don't think it’s outdated,” you assured him as he handed you the contract, his fingers brushing yours. Would you ever get used to the jolt of electricity you felt at his touch? “It’s less of a chance of it getting leaked.”

Though it was you he worried about, you still wanted to protect his reputation.

“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling to himself when you tucked the papers carefully in your folder. “Estelle is serious, isn’t she? She’ll destroy me if I hurt you?”

“Oh, yeah. She isn’t afraid of anyone,” you said as you shifted slightly on your feet. “But I wouldn't worry about her. I don't expect you to hurt me.”

He had to know that.

Andy took a step closer. “She’s a good person to have on your side,” he commented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the soft look in his eyes. “And I have no intention of hurting you.”

You carefully considered his words with furrowed brows. “Aren't you supposed to say you promise not to hurt me?”

A sad smile touched his lips. “People make promises and usually do so for the right reasons, but they don't always lead to the desired outcome,” he replied as if he peeled back a small layer of himself that still left you with questions. “Take the weeklong silence, for example. I inadvertently hurt you by not reaching out.”

Your cheeks flamed, almost wishing you hadn't mentioned it. “But we talked about that. You didn't mean anything by it.”

“Yes, we did talk about it and I'm glad you told me how you felt. I still caused doubt in your mind though,” he said, his tone gentle and understanding without breaking eye contact. “So while I do want to promise that I’ll never hurt you, I'd rather promise that I have no intention of ever hurting you. Because I don't.”

It took a moment to recall that Andy was married once years ago. While you weren't sure why things ended, did his divorce give him a new perspective on making and keeping promises? Or was it his time as a lawyer?

Whatever the reason you had to respect him for his outlook.

“I appreciate that and I will hold you to that,” you said, falling in step beside him as you headed for the door.

He raised an eyebrow as he held it open for you to go through, allowing you to catch the scent of his cologne again as you walked past. You almost asked what brand it was just so you could get a bottle and spritz your worn in sweatshirts. “Isn't this the part where you promise you have no intention of hurting me?” He questioned.

“I don't think I have the power to hurt you,” you replied, not looking behind you as you headed toward the elevator. You were positive you didn't have that kind of influence nor did you want to hurt him. “But I promise that I have no intention to do so.”

You froze when he leaned in close, his beard ticking your ear and it took all of your inner strength not to turn your head toward him. “Never underestimate how powerful you are, honey,” he whispered, your breath rushing out of your lungs as he stepped back and gestured to the open elevator doors. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice more breathy than you intended as you stepped inside. You swore you caught him smiling before he joined you.

“I gave my driver the afternoon off, so you’re stuck with me,” he said, pressing the button for the lowest level before the doors slid shut. “I hope that’s okay.”

“I think I can handle you driving,” you teased, happy that the two of you would be alone for part of the evening.

He chuckled before he went quiet again. The silence was comfortable, the soft dings as you passed each floor the only sound in the space. It gave you a moment to admire the man beside you. With his perfect posture, chin held high, and pristine suit, you tried to picture how he looked when he simply relaxed. No eyes on him. No one expecting anything from him.

Maybe he can show me that side of himself sometime soon.

“You’re staring,” he stated.

You smiled, not at all embarrassed that he caught you without looking your way. “I guess it’s because I’m still trying to figure you out.”

That and he was still one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.

But who was Andy Barber beyond his money? Your hero and your second chance at a better life, but what else? What did he do for fun? What did he want out of life, years from now?

Andy swung his head toward you as the elevator came to a stop. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

You found yourself in his car a few minutes later. The Audi still had that “new car” smell to it, the passenger seat sleek and not at all broken in. There wasn’t a spec of dust on the leather interior. Either he didn’t drive it often or he made sure to keep it in next to perfect condition.

Your mind drifted back to Andy’s earlier statement. What exactly was he trying to figure out? If he meant that he was trying to figure you out, he didn’t have to look too deeply. And if he was still trying to figure himself out, that was normal. Searching for your true self was a lifelong journey. And with your newfound sense of freedom at your fingertips, you’d be able to explore your own passions and visualize your ideal self.

But part of you figuring Andy out was getting to know him.

“Why the diner?” You asked, glancing over at him as he concentrated on the road in front of him. “I mean, why go there for coffee or food when you can go anywhere else?”

Maybe upscale places weren’t his usual style. He took you to the Courthouse and looked at ease there, but maybe the diner was an escape. Something different.

“I didn’t grow up with much, but my mom made it work as best as she could,” he admitted, a wistful note in his voice. “We never went hungry and she got creative with some meals so I wouldn’t get tired of eating the same thing. Things like fast food were considered a treat and diners were fine dining.”

You shifted in your seat as you listened, touched by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’ll bet she looked forward to those moments,” you said.

“She did and so did I,” he smiled over at you. “On the rare nights when she was able to save up and take us to a diner, she got a large breakfast or dinner meal for us to split. Best way to stretch her dollar and make sure neither of us felt hungry after.”

You almost reached over to take his hand, but you didn’t want to overstep. He was giving you a piece of himself by revealing a part of his past. That was more than you could ask for.

“I went to diners in college, too, when I was struggling to make ends meet,” he continued, stroking his beard for a moment. “I guess they kind of stuck with me because they reminded me of happier times. They also serve as a reminder to be thankful for what I have. It’s important to remember who I was then and who I am now.”

You let out a breath and closed your eyes as he turned onto the next street, wishing you could thank his mother for raising such an amazing man. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

His hand covered yours unexpectedly when your eyes opened. “Thank you for asking.”

You turned your wrist so your palm met his, your stomach flipping as he held it a little tighter. Opening up was never easy, even if Andy made it sound effortless. You felt closer to him after hearing that important piece of his history. Even the crackle of electricity felt different this time. Instead of a jolt, it was like a steady hum.

Maybe that closeness was the reason you didn’t want to let go when he parked his car in front of the diner.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You swallowed as you glanced out the window, the flashing lights from the sign of the beckoning for you to go in. “I just can't believe I'm actually going to quit,” you said, clutching your bag with your other hand. “I mean, I do believe it. I have my resignation letter here and everything.”

“Even when you had that bit of doubt that the contract wouldn't go through, you had your letter ready,” he smiled.

You toyed with the strap of your bag as you tried to hide your smile. “I guess I did.”

Preparation never hurt anyone.

“But if you’d rather hold off until tomorrow, I understand. I can even drive you back here if you want to wait,” he offered.

For a moment, you questioned if you should wait. As you bit your lip to fight your smile more and squeezed Andy’s hand, you made your decision. You signed the contract. You were more than ready.

Most of all, you deserved to start your path to a better future.

“I’m ready,” you assured him, reluctantly releasing his hand before you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Are you going in or did you want to wait here?”

“I’ll grab a coffee while I wait,” he said, stopping you as you reached for your door handle. “Allow me.”

You smiled to yourself as he went around to let you out. “Are you always a gentleman?”

“Not always,” he said without missing a beat, winking as you joined him on the sidewalk.

You licked your lips and gazed into his bright blue eyes. Could he see the want in yours? What would it take to make him lose control?

“I’m looking forward to seeing that side of you, Mr. Barber,” you smiled, brushing past him as he inhaled.

But first things first.

The bell rang as you walked inside and you paused to take it all in. Taking Andy’s earlier story to heart, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget that this diner was part of your story. It not only led him to you, but also kept you from becoming homeless. It was a blessing.

“Hey,” Casey, one of the veteran servers, nodded to you from behind the counter before she looked over your outfit. She seemed to forget all about you as Andy as he walked in behind you. You didn't blame her. “Hi there. Sit anywhere you’d like.”

Andy put his hand on your lower back before he leaned in, your breath hitching slightly. “Good luck, honey,” he whispered, releasing you as Casey gawked in your direction. “I’ll just have a coffee, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.

The usual warmth Andy exuded was down a notch. Still friendly, but different. Or maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to feel special. “Is Sean here?”

“Yep. In the office,” Casey answered, pouring Andy a fresh cup of coffee. “Just got here.”

“I’ll be right back,” you told Andy, feeling his eyes on you as you headed through the employee only doors.

Sean had his head buried in some paperwork as he grumbled to himself. With a deep breath, you knocked on the open door. He didn't speak to you much outside of your shifts and hardly praised you for a job well done, but he wasn't a bad boss. You felt bad disturbing him, but it was now or never.

“Hi. May I come in?” You asked as he looked up.

“Yeah. Don't shut the door though. Lock’s broken,” he said, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect to see you today. What are you all dressed up for?”

“Oh, I had a meeting,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. You did meet with Andy. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about.”

“A meeting?” He repeated with a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting.”

Your stomach began to twist in knots. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your boss, even if he wouldn’t be that for much longer. Being a waitress also wasn’t your dream job, but it helped you when you needed it.

Now you have to help yourself.

“Yes, I am. I’m putting in my two weeks notice,” you said quietly, taking the letter out of your bag and placing it on the desk when he stared impassively. “I found another opportunity and I’m going to take it, but I’m happy to take any shifts I can over the next two weeks to help.”

Sean didn’t speak for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “Two weeks? No, that's not gonna work. We’re short as it is,” he said, shoving the paper away before he leaned back in his chair. Was he serious? “You're gonna have to make it four weeks and then we'll revisit after that to see if we need you to stay on longer.”

“No. I'm giving you two weeks,” you reiterated, your tone unwavering. You wouldn’t let Sean bully you into staying longer, even as guilt crept up since the place was short-staffed. “That's standard and I can't do more than that. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no. I'm still in charge and you'll give me four weeks. That’s final,” he argued, waving his hand dismissively as you shrank a bit in your chair. “Unless you have anything else to add, I’ll see you next shift.”

You clasped your hands in your lap to keep from shaking. You didn't expect him to react this way. “No, that’s not final. I can't give you four weeks,” you said as calmly as possible, even as you began to feel more uncomfortable. “I would if I could, but I can't. I’m sorry.”

“Can't or won't?” Sean asked, almost making you jump as he raised his voice. “Listen here, you've been a solid employee and I'm not going to lose you in two weeks or four weeks. Do you understand? And if you don't show up you can forget about ever getting a good recommendation from me. Might as well kiss that ‘opportunity’ of yours goodbye.”

Your eyes burned as your mind flashed back to when you were told you were laid off from your previous job, the compassionate tone of your old boss the opposite of the man in front of you. The situations were different, but both made you feel so small. Especially since Sean was essentially threatening your future endeavors. You refused to cry though.

He wouldn’t witness your tears.

You cleared your throat and maintained your resolve. “Two weeks, Sean. That’s it. I said I’m willing to work as many shifts as I can over the next two weeks, but I can't do more than that. I won’t,” you firmly spoke as his eyes widened. “I really don't want to end this on a bad note, please.”

He pushed himself to his feet as he thrust a finger toward your face as if it would somehow make him appear intimidating to tower over you. It wouldn’t sway you. “Listen here, you little-”

“Is everything okay?”

Andy’s voice made both of you jump as you spun in your chair. He stood in the doorway but didn’t look your way. He trained his gaze on your boss, his normally bright eyes narrow and cold.

Your boss must’ve felt malice in that stare since he sat down immediately. “Oh. Mr. Barber,” he said. Did he know him as a regular customer or merely recognize his status? “It’s just an issue with an employee. This doesn’t concern you.”

“There is no issue,” you corrected him.

“Actually, she’s with me, so it does concern me,” Andy spoke as he took a step into the office, staring your boss down with a clenched jaw. The space no longer felt like Sean’s. It was as if Andy owned it along with everything in it. “If you want to raise your voice at someone, I’m right here. You won’t speak to her that way though. Do you understand?”

The deep timbre almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your heart pounding from Andy defending you.

Sean coughed a bit as color filled his cheeks. He should be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize she was with you. I wouldn’t have…” he trailed off.

Your blood simmered. He wouldn’t have raised his voice at you if he knew you were with Andy. Was this a taste of what things were going to be like? How people were going to treat you moving forward?

“Who she’s with shouldn’t matter. Not to mention, your customers and employees could hear you since your door was open,” Andy added, disappointment thickly laced in his voice. “You said she was a solid employee. Why would you speak to her like that?”

Sean’s eyes flickered to you as you waited for an answer. “We’ve been short-staffed and I’ve been stressing over it. That’s no excuse. I'm sorry,” he said to Andy, making your blood go from simmering to boiling. A customer, a powerful man, got the apology, but not you. “Won’t happen again.”

“Maybe remind yourself to be kind to the people who work for you before you raise your voice again. They’re the ones who keep your business running,” Andy said.

With a hang of his head, your boss sighed. “Two weeks, huh?” He asked, the wind completely out of his sails as you nodded. “Okay. Two weeks it is.”

“Thanks,” you whispered before Andy walked over and held out his hand to help you to your feet. Luckily, you didn’t tremble as you took it and gave it a small squeeze. It was nice that he was on your side.

“And one more thing?” Andy added as Sean glanced up. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

You held up your other hand when Sean looked your way and opened his mouth. “No. The only reason you’re going to say you’re sorry is because he’s here,” you stated, looking at Andy momentarily. He responded with an encouraging smile. “And I don’t want an empty apology. You can keep it.”

It was nice that Andy wanted an apology on your behalf, but it wouldn't feel believable.

Sean’s face fell, but he didn’t argue. Up until today, he treated you decently. The pressures of running a business were tough, but he had no reason to take it out on you. At the same time, you felt bad for him.

“But thank you, Sean. You gave me a job when I needed one and I won’t forget that,” you added gently. “I’ll see you next shift.”

“Why don't I meet you outside? I just want one more quick word with your boss,” Andy said as Sean audibly swallowed.

Uh-oh.

“Sure,” you said, the knots in your gut unraveling as you left the two of them alone.

You exhaled as you walked back into the dining area, avoiding the gazes from a few of the customers. Your hand shook as you gave Casey a small wave. At least she didn’t look upset with you.

“Quitting, huh? Lucky duck,” she smiled sadly. “You okay? He had no right speaking to you like that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, taking another breath. You didn't like anyone raising their voice at you, but you wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it and didn’t need her to worry. All you could do was make the transition as smooth as possible over the next two weeks. “Didn't expect that kind of reaction. Didn’t expect anyone out here to hear it.”

“Sean’s voice carries and he’s probably just pissed that he’s losing another good one while he’s stuck here,” she guessed, glancing over her shoulder before she added in a whisper, “Oh, and that guy you’re with? He looked furious when he heard him.”

“He did?” You asked, an almost goofy smile appearing on your face.

“Yeah, he did. He had fire in his eyes. Put a bill down, got to his feet, and immediately walked back there. And I wasn’t about to stop him,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned on the counter. “I’d say he’s smitten.”

Your heart skipped a beat. First Estelle, now Casey. Though the latter had no clue about the arrangement. “He’s really something, isn't he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Casey said, straightening up when the employee door swung open.

Andy’s eyes landed on you as he walked through, his eyes soft again as he held out his hand. He also looked pleased with himself. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you said, taking it as you gave Casey a nod. “I’ll see you soon. Hope the rest of your shift is okay.”

“Me, too. See ya,” she said before she went back to assisting other customers.

“You okay?” Andy asked softly as he led you outside.

“I’m fine,” you promised, not wanting him to worry either or get upset. “But what did you say to Sean?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he answered, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry if I overstepped by intervening. I just couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

He easily deflected your question and you decided to let him have that victory for now.

You went in for a hug but kept space for him to breathe. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before you could pull away, your body melting into his. The bustling city around you faded as you focused on the warmth of his firm body. It made you forget all about Sean’s reaction.

“I’m glad you did,” you said, stepping back with a tiny smile. It meant the world that he defended you. “I tried to hold my own.”

“You did. You could've snapped back or walked out, but you didn't. That’s commendable and powerful,” he assured you, his gaze serious. “But I don't care if it’s your boss or a stranger or your best friend, I’m not about to let someone take their frustrations out on you.”

Warmth settled in your chest. You learned something else about Andy today: He truly wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you. He continued to prove that he was a man of his word.

You also experienced firsthand how things worked in his world, how people would bend toward his will. If it was a test, you wouldn’t say you failed since you stood up for yourself. It wouldn’t always be that easy. Whether someone questioned your motives or place with Andy or not, you had to learn to grow a thick skin. Not just for your own benefit, but Andy’s, too.

He needed someone strong by his side.

“Thank you, Andy.”

“And, listen, if you don’t want to work those shifts or if he gives you a hard time-”

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. You doubted Sean would make it a hostile work environment, but you could handle it if there were any issues. “But I think I’d like to go home now.”

Andy blinked and gave you a single nod. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Is he disappointed at the thought of me ending the day right now?

You smiled as you tugged him in the direction of his car. “I’d also like you to see my place,” you said, his eyebrows shooting up. It surprised you that you offered, too. “It isn't much, but it’s comfortable. Maybe we can order takeout?”

It wasn’t exactly the ideal way to celebrate, but he shared a piece of himself on the drive over. The least you could do was let him see your apartment. And who knew where the evening would take you?

“Only if you’ll let me pay,” he smiled.

“You're not going to let me pay for anything, are you?” You smiled back.

“Not if I can help it,” he replied, opening the car door. “Let's get you home, honey.”

We all need a man like Andy. And what's going to happen at the apartment? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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pretzel-box · 23 days

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Hi! Hello! How are you doing? I hope you're having a great day. This is the first time I requested something so pls bare with me. So I really like the swap!Sebastian and swap!/payment received reader, so can I request a second part where Sebastian bought readers file and maybe some fluff and comfort, that'd be soooo cute and what comes next is up to you.

Anyways thanks for taking your time in reading this and it's also okay if you ignore this😊😊😊

Tags: Comfort, Fluff, Reverse AU, gn! experiment reader & human sebastian, sequel to previous chapter

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Since the story progresses differently, I tried to at least write the fluff and comfort part after Seb saw the tapes!

Sebastian’s breath hitched as he tried to steady himself, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess of thoughts. He hadn’t expected to break down like this, not here, not in front of you. He had always prided himself on being composed, on having a plan. But those tapes… the sight of what you had gone through—the screams, the agony, the helplessness—it had torn through him like a knife. He didn’t know how to cope with the knowledge of your suffering, and now, here you were, laughing so freely, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his heart.

“Ah, there you are!” Your cheerful voice had greeted him when he walked into the shop, his eyes still red and puffy from the tears he had tried to hold back. Your smile was so genuine, so full of light, and it only made the ache in his chest worse. He wanted to protect that light, to shield you from any more pain, but he didn’t know how.

“Look!” You said, holding up the recorder with a playful grin. “I recorded a wall dweller getting hit by Pandemonium. It got squished like a fly.” You played the clip for him like it was some kind of small victory, a moment of dark humor to lighten the mood. But Sebastian couldn’t focus on the video. He could only see you—the real you—behind the cheerful facade.

He felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes welling up with tears again. You noticed the shift in his expression, the way his face crumpled with a pain you couldn’t quite understand. “God, Sebastian,” you teased gently, though your voice was tinged with concern. “Don’t tell me you’re getting emotional over a wall dweller.”

Sebastian didn’t respond. He just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent waves. The shame of his breakdown mixed with the overwhelming sadness he felt for you, for everything you’d endured, for every piece of you that had been broken and put back together. He hated that he couldn’t control this, that he couldn’t stop crying in front of you. He felt so raw, so exposed.

You blinked, your teasing smile fading as you realized this wasn’t just some passing moment of sentiment. You stepped closer, your expression softening as you took in the sight of him—Sebastian, your normally composed and snarky companion, now reduced to tears.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. His body stiffened at first, but then he melted into your touch, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. You held him close, your hand stroking the back of his head, fingers tangling gently in his hair. The other hand moved up and down his back, soothing him with gentle, rhythmic movements.

“It’s okay, Solace,” you whispered softly, your voice a calming melody against the storm raging in his mind. “The wall dweller is at a better place.”

Sebastian let out a choked laugh, a mix of a sob and a chuckle, shaking his head against your shoulder. “It’s… it’s not about the damn wall dweller,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s… it’s you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Me?” you asked, searching his tear-filled eyes for answers. “What about me?”

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself enough to speak. “I saw the tapes,” he admitted quietly, his voice breaking on the last word. “I saw… what they did to you. What you went through.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your grip on him tightening instinctively. “Sebastian…” you whispered, your voice softening with understanding. “You… you saw those?”

He nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry for everything they did to you. I just… I don’t know how you’re still standing here, smiling like that.”

You felt a pang in your chest, a mix of sorrow and affection for the man in front of you. You knew the tapes were horrifying—brutal, even—but you had long since come to terms with your past. It was a part of you, yes, but it didn’t define you. Not anymore.

You cupped his face gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “I’m okay, Sebastian. I’m still here. I’m still… me.”

He looked at you with such a mix of awe and disbelief, his heart aching with every beat. “But how?” he whispered. “How can you just… move on from something like that?��

You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Because I have to,” you replied simply. “Because if I let it define me, if I let it break me, then they win. And I refuse to let them have that power over me.”

Sebastian stared at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of admiration and love. He had always been drawn to you, always found himself captivated by your spirit, your strength. But now, more than ever, he realized just how much you meant to him—how much he needed you in his life.

He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice muffled against your skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that.”

You smiled softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair. “You’re protecting me now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you tighter as if afraid to let go. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what had happened in the past, no matter what horrors you’d both faced, you would face them together. And together, you would heal.

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, a small, playful smile tugged at your lips. “Besides,” you added, your tone teasing, “I bet that wall dweller’s in wall heaven now, with all his little wall dweller friends. Don’t you think?”

Sebastian let out a watery laugh, pulling back to look at you with a mix of exasperation and affection. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, a small smile breaking through his tears.

“And yet,” you said, grinning up at him, “you’re still here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart feeling a little lighter, a little more whole. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I am.”

And as you stood there together, holding each other close, you knew that even after Sebastian saw the tapes, he would be alright. Just like you are.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #roblox pressure #sebastian solace fanfic #pressure #pressure x reader #reversed au

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kujiba · 6 months

Text

★MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

୨୧ — ꒰ wowee, thanks alot for 100+ likes on part one! Hope you enjoy part two :]

[PART ONE

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

-YOU DIDNT NEED TO BE A GENIUS to get an idea of what was happening. Your lower body brushed against the soft yet sharp grass, it felt all too real. Your (e/c) eyes narrowed its way to a tree. An ordinary tree with many ripe fruits; one of it being able to take your attention.

Your hand circled on one of the fruits bottom and plucked it carefully, it matched exactly as your expectation. A plump fruit that seemed to be full of its juice and taste, an appearance that resembled a beautiful like sunset furthermore having a sweet and gentle aroma that is able to energize an individual.

Your lips slowly made its way near the side of the familiar fruit, the texture and feeling were soft yet hard. The aroma itself made your mouth faintly water, you swallowed your saliva having a high expectation out of this. After all, you always wanted to see what it really tasted like after collecting so many.

"Thank you for the meal." You lastly said and took a bite.

Your eyes widened a bit, this was far more than what you expected. The flavor was sweet but not too much to be like a candy. It was juicy enough to make you feel more hydrated than ever. It didn't take you long to start devouring the whole fruit at once

"Better than i had thought." Your back laid against the tree, all of its fruits gone for it was rapidly consumed by someone (you).

You wiped off the fluid on the side of your face. A small smile looming over your lips "I feel more.. Refreshed than ever." Your tone consisted of slight suprise and satisfaction "Still, i cant seem to get my head wrapped around whats happening.." You mumbled quietly to yourself, having your fair share of the internet you were well aware on the many fanfictions and AU the game GENSHIN IMPACT had, but it having to actually become a real life situation is something too impossible to even happen.

Your feelings felt too mixed and unorganized. Half of what you felt was being thankful, because out of all the things you were gonna reincarnate in. The gods or whoever did it brought you into a more PG game; sure it had killing.. And some questionable things but as long as you live like an NPC things will go in the right track!.

With a goal set in mind you dusted off your hands following with walking down the dirt path that led to the gates of the iconic town MONDSTADT. you could remember it like it was just yesterday when you first played genshin. A feeling crept up to you, something similar - that you've walked down this path for millions of times and that muscle memory just took in. Deja vu didn't leave your mind until you were met with two guards infront of you.

"Halt. Who are you and what is your business here in mondstat" One of the guards spoke up, eyeing you up and down incase you were bringing any dangerous or threatening items to the city.

The guards other companion putted his hand on top of his friends shoulder "Wait, ___. They look familiar dont they?" His tone filled with suspicion, he couldn't shake it off as just a normal coincidence.

"What? What are you even saying ____. I believe you're making a far stretch in this one, i clearly remember that they have (opposite color) hair." The guards companion replied back with confidence in his answer. And it soon didn't take long for it to turn to a long and repeating argument on what was the appearance of the person they were arguing about.

"Jeez, who even is the person their saying. They must seem complicated" You thought to yourself while at the same time, was rubbing the back of your head - all you wanted was to slip into the city of Mondstadt but it seems to be much harder than you had thought in mind.

During the time the two guards were still rambling about the appearance of a certain someone. a silhouette of a girl with long silky brown hair, complimenting her appearance with a bright crimson bow that anybody could see from a mile away.

"Huh? I wonder whats going on over there.. Better go check it out!" The mysterious girl exclaimed, swiftly jumping down the soaring cliff. The moment her feet left the ground, wing like designs appeared behind her back which helped her safely land on the ground yet again.

"Whats going on here?" The mysterious girl walked between the two guards to stop their argument. Both her hands placed on her waist as she looked at the two with confusion.

"Oh- Outrider amber. Good to see you today" The guard greeted the named girl, AMBER. Amber exchanged the guards greeting with a smile "Good to see you today too. Now, will anyone care to explain what's going on?" She questioned, her hazel eyes glancing at the three people infront of her; You noticed how her gaze seemed too be longer on yours - as if she had something on her mind.

"I'll explain"

"Let me explain"

"So basically.."

You and the other two guards were caught off guard by the sudden synchronization. "Uhm, I can explain the situation" You spoke up while (e/c) eyes looked at the two.

"No, I've got a more grip and understanding standing on the situation, allow me" One of the guards replied back, his other companion raised a brow on what the other had just said.

"Please. I remember the details on the situation more clearly, I'll be telling you what happened Outrider Amber." His companion argued back to the other

"I'm doing you a favor so allow me."

"You're gonna leave out some parts so just let me do it"

"I'll do it"

"No, I'll do it"

"Guys.."

"So.. What you're all saying is that this person just wanted to get inside mondstadt?" Amber questioned;it took a long while till you just decided to explain to amber what really happened. Still, you couldn't shake off the feeling how intensely she was staring at you for - it creeped you out badly but you tried not to make it too obvious.

"Thats basically what happened" You confirmed giving her a small nod. Amber's expression seemed to be in deep thought for some moments till she gave you a smile in return.

"Seems like theres no problem then! You don't seem to pose as a threat, uhm.." Amber trailed off not really having to get your name yet. "Oh! It's (Name), pleasure to meet you" You kindly greeted her

You expected a positive greeting back but instead, your body jolted slightly. Seeing her shocked expression staring at you deeply for a moment and soon returned to normal.

Amber's expression calmed down and she gave you a apologetic smile "Oh sorry bout that... Just go right ahead" She offered, her fingertips gently wrapping around the back of her neck as her gaze were on the floor. You questioned her abnormal behavior earlier but the thought of going inside THE city of Mondstadt that you've dreamed ever since you first played made you ecstatic. Not to mention that you just met with one of the main side characters (amber) made you forget her strange activity just a few seconds ago.

You gave her a nod "Alright. Thank you!" And without hesitating you quickly walked inside the city of Mondstadt. The aroma of dandelions waved through the surroundings as people were joyful and free; something that you've craved since your 'previous' life.

Today is a brand new page in a book, where you're the one holding the pen and get to be able to write whatever you desire! WELCOME TO MONDSTADT

Two pairs of hazel colored eyes followed your body whilst you gleefully strolled from shop to shop. Her gaze not leaving you for even a second, for fear shrouded over her. Fear that you again would leave her sight.

".. They can't be..."

"You've felt it too huh?"

"... Get the others.

"We can't let them get away"

[A/N: HOPE YALL ENJOY PART 2. SORRY IT SEEMED SHORT, I'LL TRY TO MAKE PART 3 LONGER. ANYWAYS PROLOUGE IS DONE, MONDSTADT ARC WILL START NOW

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau #genshin cult au #X reader #gender neutral y/n #y/n #amber genshin impact #mondstadt #genshin fanfic #reader insert #god reader #yandere genshin impact #gn reader #x reader #genshin x reader

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throwaway-yandere · 8 months

Text

His Version Of You [Yan!Kaveh & Yan!Veritas Ratio/Reader]

a/n: tis another solid “twas a crack idea but I made it too serious” fic. kavetham rivalry is overrated af, KaTio is the way to go /j. when you finish it, can you answer the poll at the bottom on who you would pick between these two? bless you.

unreliable synopsis: When one grieves, sometimes it is best not to be reminded of who you're grieving for. Especially not by fighting over a recreation of their heart and soul. [based on @2broschlininahotub & @meimeimeirin's request]

content warnings/tags: [light yandere vs yandere]/[implied poly!yandere/reader] fic, geniuses who can't take a W, au shenanigans, the girlies love to bicker it’s their love native language

"What were you thinking, you idiot?! Thank my reflexes that I caught the statue beforehand or else I would have to explain what a monumental mistake that is. Just use your common sense for once, will you?!"

"Please— I don't want to hear that from YOU of all people! This is MY stone. Stop acting like you actually care. You took us away from my world! You're the one who's too obsessed with researching it! It's like a damn test subject and not a companion to you!"

"That's because it is, you fucking oaf!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING ME FALSE HOPE THAT IT'S A LIVING BEING!!!"

Veritas stood with his arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched and his frown the deepest Kaveh had ever seen. The architect, absolutely baffled at his experiment partner's harsh evaluation, felt his eyes dampening. His bumping of the sculpture was pure accident, but Veritas' sharp tongue cut deep into Kaveh's pride. Even the most understanding of men would find his tone abrasive.

Getting riled up…Over a damn statue.

"Just because it's alive, doesn't mean it's a companion. And just because it is a test subject, doesn't mean you can just near-topple it as you damn please."

The arguments subsided. They exchanged long looks as they tried to figure out how the "little dispute" had come dangerously close to abusive. With his anger gradually fading, Kaveh was the one to take the first initiative. Kaveh steeled himself. The architect's shoulders dropped, and his expression softened. Jaded.

"Veritas... I'm sorry. As much as this statue… means… to me, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I-I was just upset, you're aware that I've been working all afternoon polishing the statue and I took that anger out on you. I'm sorry." Kaveh said.

"Right." Veritas closed his eyes. "Apology accepted. I understand that you're visibly distressed, but I will not tolerate low-quality work."

As Kaveh was about to get defensive, Veritas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Which is to say, take a rest, Kaveh. Work when you can guarantee peak performance." Veritas sighed. "Rest. Pompom has already prepared your bed for you."

Kaveh cast his gaze down on the floor, wearing a feeble smile. Though their list of grievances from the past days was enough to fill two pages, Veritas is steeped in cunning. He knew exactly how to plaster Kaveh's impulse.

"Right… I'm just tired."

"Precisely. The faster the progress, the greater the chance of errors." Veritas smiled back, although looking less sincere as Kaveh's. "Take a rest, Kaveh."

With a murmur, Kaveh got up and dusted off his pants from the metamorphic rock that had been sandpapered. People aren't made to stay cooped up inside all the time. He took one last look at the project before heading out for the night, noting that while the foundation was in place, work still needed to be done before they could decide on the final look. If he could just make the hands softer-looking…

"Kaveh…" Veritas chimed, warning with his arms crossed.

"Right, right!" Kaveh laughed nervously, still slightly vexed by the reproach. "Maybe I'm getting too brave at night, I don't know why I'm boldly thinking of trying my hand at smoothening the statue again."

"I'd consider you more weak-hearted than stouthearted," Veritas dusted Kaveh's shoulders off. "And do try to keep yourself clean."

"I'm too tired to run a shower…"

Veritas sighed loudly.

The both of them had decided to leave the studio with a degree of finality. Hunched over, the kidnapped architect left to take his well-deserved slumber while the doctor decided that a warm bath would benefit him more. The night "concludes", or so Kaveh thought.

Looking back, these two are the most unlikely friends to exist, are they not? A professor slash doctor of the Intelligentsia Guild and the architect "Light of the Kshahwerar" collaborating over a glorified arts and crafts project. To truly understand this bizarreness, it is wise to look back to its beginning.

In his quest to rid the galaxy of a disease he dubbed "ignorance", Dr. Veritas Ratio sallied forth to practice his preachings. Even joined the Astral Express at some point, but it was only in this instance did he found companionship with an extremely empathetic individual.

And their first meeting was not a decent starting point.

Veritas set out on his umpteenth assignment handed out by the Express. He was sent to explore the dangerous land formations of Sumeru with the trailblazer. Every extended curve revealed pyramids and sand, and Veritas kept Stelle close by using her straps as a leash. Nevertheless, when they accidentally entered an unstable domain, his disgruntled complaints ceased. Deciding it would be best for only one to investigate further, Veritas volunteered.

There was just one discernible light path inside the mostly collapsing structure. Yet, every step he took was curiously inaudible, and when he reached the Apex, he met the sight of blonde hair.

Enter: Kaveh.

"You get what I mean right? It feels like my problems just keep piling up and up, like an impossible mountain. There's never anyone who would listen to me complain, but you…" The words that fell from the stranger's lips were sweeter than honey as he waxed poetic. "You're always here to listen. And it makes me feel so much less alone. Thank you…"

The blonde man had his cheek against a large rectangular rock, caressing it appreciatingly. His eyelids were lowered and his cheeks were puffy. Whether he cried beforehand or was merely exhausted cannot be assessed from Veritas' distance from him.

February 5, ████.

Kaveh had recently lost his lover that day. They died due to an unforeseen heart attack, which pains him more since his darling had always been healthy. Since his "delam" has passed away, he has been inconsolable. He refused to part with any possessions they left. No matter how many of their fellow archeologists begged for (Y/n)'s notes, he barked with gritted teeth that his mind would not change.

… How ironic that he used to call his lover "my heart" when the very same organ was the cause of death.

Neither wine nor friends can get a reaction out of him. The best he could do to continue living was to focus on his work and his young mentees. (Y/n) always wanted to be a teacher but couldn't because of their daytime job, so Kaveh fulfilled their dreams instead.

That includes continuing their research on the strange rock they had found in the desert.

Kaveh remained hotly bent on preserving everything they loved. Despite its unconventional and jagged appearance, the rock struck him as the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long while. Its lack of clear patterns didn't matter; it stood tall, capturing his fascination. It had ended his slump and had become an integral part of him. This hyperfixation had not gone unnoticed by Lesser Lord Kusanali, but when she visited him, she… strangely endorsed of his newfound lunacy. She knew something he did not.

Something about the rock… felt so similar to his deceased "delam".

The doctor, lacking any context for the sight before him, raised an eyebrow. His duty may be to educate others, but this was beyond help. A pell-mell of incoherent ramblings filled the room with the hither and thither of blonde hair to match. But this was the first person he encountered in Teyvat. And he was determined to get any info out of him.

"Excuse me."

The blonde man blinked repeatedly, eyes going wide at the sight of Veritas approaching.

"I'm Dr. Veri—"

"T-This isn't what it looks like!!!" The blonde freaked out. "This is– It's just! This rock, it has sentimental value and–"

"…" Veritas drawled. "Riiiight. I'm… Dr. Veritas Ratio. I'm not of this world— I believe my companions and I are what you refer to as Descenders. We wish to collect petrology info for databank purposes. May you offer assistance?"

Kaveh did not know what to say. But by instincts, he knew something was not entirely right with this man.

He'd be right. Veritas wasn't there specifically for rocks. He's just, crudely put, nosy.

"And I am supposed to blindly believe any stranger who wears such a strange getup?" Kaveh stood up and protectively hid the rock behind him. "Sorry, I kindly refuse. And I am not equipped to help either."

Veritas smirked and cracked some knuckles with his left thumb.

There was a damn good reason why Stelle was left behind. On the entrance of the gate laid an inscription that roughly translates to the words "adepti" and "tribute". His intellect in this linguistics may be rusty, but it is not incorrect.

He had an inkling that the rock this peculiar blonde was obsessing over was imbued with a sliver of ambuscade soul who took arms against the worst opponents imaginable.

A "yaksha", if you were a Liyue local.

Veritas was by no means unmindful of Kaveh's obsession. He held his tongue, assessing that to set a quarrel with an unpredictable variable would prolong his journey. There was no profit to be had in angering an unreadable man.

"Well then, if I can't take that rock within reason…"

Dr. Ratio opened his book.

…

"… Long story short, that's why this chick is all wrapped up like a present."

Through brute force, both Stelle and Veritas managed to drop both Kaveh and the rock inside the Express, to the surprise of many. They were initially sent to only survey Teyvat (which meant Veritas positively lied to Kaveh earlier). No one expected an angry Sumeru man to "visit."

"I-I am not a chick! I am a man! I'm Kaveh— an architect!!!" The self-proclaimed man wriggled around the trailblazer's yellow ropes, looking pale as he stared at the unfamiliar faces and scenery before him. "H-Hey!!! Unhand me at once!!!"

"Oh, you're not a girl? You're pretty, though."

"I should've known you would bring something peculiar on board, Dr. Ratio, I just didn't expect it to be a weird human-sized rock..." Said the red-haired lady. "But anyways, you, Sir Kaveh, have quite a remarkable sense of fashion."

"I haven't seen any guy wear earrings that big before…" The grey-haired girl said with grabby hands.

"Please don't try to yank it off him," the brown-haired man sighed and pulled her back with his cane.

Kaveh was a little taken aback by the diversity of tongues in front of him. It was clear based on their accents that they didn't quite come from the same world, yet they communicate as near-family.

"Do all Teyvat people have rocks for friends or is it just you?" A strawberry-haired young lady asked as she approached the rock, which set Kaveh in an even more panicked frenzy when she attempted to poke it.

"N-NO!!! DON'T!!!"

March flinched at his sudden scream and nearly fell had Stelle not caught her.

"Yeah, March, be respectful, you never know if that's the love of his life or something like that," said Stelle.

Kaveh's eyes widened. "You… How did you just understand me better than my friends…?"

The room went quiet. Dan Heng glanced at Veritas, who pretended not to notice him. Mentioning romance near him had always been a dangerous move. Veritas' face crumpled slightly.

There were scars in his own heart he had yet to patch up, and he needed no reminder that he was procrastinating.

Dan Heng cleared his throat.

"It's bad news to have Stelle be the only one who "gets you" if you consider yourself of sane mind." Dan Heng spoke. "But then again, you remind me of Argenti…"

"Where did you find this man, Doctor?" Welt digressed, concerned as he towered above the tied Kaveh. The older man doesn't have objections to his (kidnapped) presence. He can tell by the look on both Kaveh and Veritas' faces that neither was a man with no substance, and the latter saw to exploit the former.

Veritas only shrugged and jabbed his thumb in Stelle's general direction. "Assistant…"

"On it." Stelle saluted solemnly. "We found him in a pyramid. The doctor thought he would be a worthy individual to study if we wish to understand the culture behind one of the seven nations. Since Mister Yang told us to befriend important people–"

"Since when was kidnapping synonymous with befriending?"

"–this is Ratio's candidate."

"That is correct, and he's not just any other person. I have seen him in the Guild's Persons of Interest. He is Kaveh, the light of the Kshahrewar," Veritas claimed. "A certified scholar of the Akademiya and the face for the Darshan he was an alumnus of."

The Express quietly signaled shock over Ratio's interest in the man.

Kaveh slunk back, defeated. When there's little progress, a man naturally turns restive. Kaveh no longer had much to fear in his life. The worst had already come to pass, and the world became mere static noise. He had no hope of escaping soon, not when he saw his homeworld's true "sky". Or at least, back then, he thought it was one. The world he knew was a mere tapestry of ████…

…

"Not that there aren't enough rooms in the Express, but why bring him and the rock here?" Himeko paused to take a sip of her piping hot coffee. "Isn't it a bit, I don't know, overkill?"

"It's because that pyramid is no place to cultivate a living species, and there's no better–... lab assistant... than this man before us." Dr. Ratio looked at the man on the floor.

Dan Heng tried not to comment on how sad his tone was when Veritas referred to Kaveh as a "lab assistant". He knew what had happened to Ratio, but it was not the right time or place.

"What do you mean by living?" Himeko asked.

"That rock has adeptal power within it that we can awaken. That is, if he'd help us make his little rock come to life."

With his words, he moved the unweariable Kaveh to act complacent.

Kaveh felt as though the floor caved beneath him. An unholy mixture of disbelief, awe, and joy swirled within his already jetlagged mind. The fact of the matter was, despite being incredibly unstable, he was lucid enough to know that a miracle was possible.

"What…?"

"It's been a month since that whole debacle," Veritas muttered to himself as he flicked the wrist that held his book away from the bathtub's bubbly waters. "I suppose I was harsh to the poor man. But is that treatment not at all deserved?"

Over time, Veritas grew to like Kaveh, especially after knowing he was tutoring young aspiring architects free of charge. Still, Kaveh's strangely compliant behavior does not deviate from his first impression. His empty eyes were enough sign that Kaveh lived through emotionally draining struggles and came out with few real friends. He lost his raison d'etre, that's why he willingly threw his life in Teyvat away.

… In Kaveh's words, he only wished for a "vacation". If his prize was to go elsewhither with a satisfying result, then he's not opposed to (getting kidnapped) a new "collaboration".

The doctor can't say no to it either.

Deep down, prodigy genius Veritas couldn't deny the harsh truth: witnessing that pitiful man finding solace in an inanimate object was a stark reminder that he harbored the same "illness".

Hence, Veritas offered consistent "insults" to the brightest of Kshashrewar, and each time, Kaveh took the opportunity to improve. Veritas considered it a necessary evil. But even after surpassing those challenges, Kaveh was helpless to overcome the deep emptiness that persisted in his soul.

Kaveh never really spoke about who his previous lover was. All everyone knew was that he lovingly called them "delam"– his heart. They didn't want to bring him more pain by even asking a simple question like delam's real name.

A huge mistake later on.

"... Tch," Veritas grunted, his eyebrows furrowing sadly. The thought of his last love affairs had soured his mood.

Veritas stood from his bath, drying himself and wrapping a towel on his lower half.

… He likely won't sleep tonight.

Forgetting his agreement to continue the project tomorrow morning, he unlocked the door to the studio room Himeko lent them. He left trails of his wet footsteps. His wavy hair also remained damp, but he could not care much for it. Veritas will dress himself up later. Just a towel will suffice for now.

"Sculpting…"

Veritas laughed to himself as he took some tools off the table.

"Wasn't this your pastime and not mine—" he closed his eyes, muttering the next words with a teasingly melancholic tilt. "Assistant (L/n)?"

His grip on the chisel tightened, painting his knuckles white.

Professor (Y/n) (L/n).

The person responsible for the Council of Mundanites' existence. Their name rarely escapes his lips, treating their memory like a curse. Just exhaling the thought of them out of his system makes him nauseous. As if the air inside him gets knocked out. His eyes would flutter shut, no different from a dying man who held weakly holds on. Veritas hated this anguish. The doctor hated this vicious seemingly never-ending cycle called "grief".

"(Y/n)…" Ratio muttered. "Your face is still etched in my mind. What more do I need to eradicate these… unnecessary burdens?"

He could practically hear them laugh beside him.

Haha, please. You think about me so much that you consider me burdensome? Oh, you dork! If you loved me so much, you should've written a love letter.

"You absolute ignoramus," Veritas laughed softly. "You cannot discredit my efforts, though, can you?"

"My dearest…" He breathed out in pain once more. "My most wonderful partner. The best teaching assistant I ever had. You…"

… Never loved him back.

Dr. Veritas Ratio was no idiot. He despised any form of delusion. Throughout his life, he had been a tyrannical figure who pursued truth and not stagnant idolatry for every "patient". But when an immovable force meets an unstoppable object, would you consider him a tamed emperor?

Professor (L/n) was the first person he met who brazenly called themselves a "mundanite". A true mediocre. And they were beautiful at their very core.

Not free of sin, but free of hubris.

Molded as a genius since birth, the very foundations of (L/n)'s philosophies dismantled Ratio. (L/n) admired geniuses like Herta, but never romanticized the notion of natural-born wits. They always strived to eradicate their own "ignorance". But even when they are more knowledgeable than they let on, (L/n) never boasts. This behavior provides no benefit in an academically competitive field. Nothing confused the irrefutable prodigy like their longtime academic partner.

Geniuses— Masters— when I achieve great things, I don't want to have silly titles before my name. It's so… rigid, don't you think so, Veritas?

I wouldn't know.

Ha! Of course, you wouldn't. You've lived your entire life as one. But level with me for a second. Wouldn't life be less boring if…

He raised the chisel.

… we never stopped considering ourselves as mere beginners? Isn't there more joy to being a mundane with untapped potential than a stiff jack of all trades? C'mon, Veritas. Doesn't the idea that there's always more to explore make this vast world seem less dull?

Veritas bit his lip. Tears were threatening to spill.

February 5, ████.

It was Dr. Veritas Ratio's fault that they died that day. He thought (L/n) was capable of handling an extremely dangerous laboratory mishap. They were not. Despite his assistant's years of experience, every man is an unsuspecting fledgling in the face of death. It does not discriminate between the mediocre and the brightest.

That's absurd, (L/n). What is the point of learning if not for its mastery?

"Assistant… Let me offer this final tribute so that you can finally s-stop… haunting… me."

But they will never stop. Their last long exchange repeated in his head throughout the night. No matter how many times he hammered, the clanging sound did not drown out the voices in his head. The words mocked him, over and over, and over.

I'm sorry Veritas…

Why are you apologizing?

… I'm afraid I just don't see you that way. I'm just an ordinary person, and I doubt I could ever genuinely return the love of someone as brilliant as you. I'm afraid your affection might be akin to caring for a pet, and I can't find it in myself to figure out how to respond in kind.

… That's not true. You cannot simply decline my confession with a lukewarm excuse—

I'm afraid I'm just an ordinary college professor with no PhDs. I will have to reject your love. I'm so sorry.

But why?!

"(Y/n)… The one person I can never grasp…" Veritas muttered as he looked at the finished piece. "Here you are... Created by my own hands..."

Beautiful. Not a single doubt that it was carved in their likeness. The (Y/n) he knew was a professor who loved their teaching job, but wished they were more of an adventurer. Secretly, (Y/n) wanted to be an archeologist, and perhaps that's one of the reasons why Veritas let the mysterious rock formation inside the Express. Maybe if they continued living, they would've liked this gesture.

Ha… As if.

Veritas—

W-What aspect must I improve on? To dismiss me so impatiently— do I lack the charm? I can always learn to suit your tastes. Don't tell such a bold lie. I highly doubt that it is due to my academic performance. There's another man you've wasted your affections on, is there?!

Veritas, please…

Enough! Enough with these lies and tell me! J-Just… Just tell me, (Y/n)!

He's tired. Veritas just wanted to hold them again. He just wanted to "fix" their hair- tucking his golden hairpin to subconsciously teach their associates and students that Professor (L/n) was his. He missed the way he would hide (L/n)'s lab coat just so he could make them wear his as he left for the day. He missed secretly leaving small love confessions on their class grade spreadsheets, add/drop forms, and even their private online journals so he would read messages about how they must've caught a computer virus. He missed teasing them when they hadn't got a clue that he was unserious. He missed hearing (L/n) whine. He missed the way it made him warm.

He missed the warmth.

"Stop..."

He missed you.

"Stop this..."

And he continues to miss his (Y/n) so much.

"Please..."

It's unbearable.

There is no one else.

Yes, there is! I refuse to believe it! It's your recent lab partner, isn't it!? The man everyone has fallen for— you have taken a liking to him more than me, the person who has been with you all this time!!! You… You ungrateful!—

Veritas is so, so tired and more chipped than the rock he had worked on… Unlike the statue, he cannot tangibly pick up the pieces (L/n) that broke him in. There's only a hollow void of what could've been.

Why... Why did they have to reject him? If they hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have coldly assigned (Y/n) to deal with the containment breach alone. He would've thought it through. He would've realized he was plagued with ignorance. He would've changed so many things that February 5th.

But that's all there was to it. Just "would have"s, not "have done"s.

Ngh–?! Why… did you... slap me…?

Veritas, maybe you should stop and look down and listen to us common-minded folks for once in your life! The simple fact is that you're just so out of reach. How can you love me, when you don't even understand me, Genius Ratio? How can you confess when you don't know what it's like to work for the knowledge you have? How can you love a "mundanite" like me?

… (Y/n)… T-That's simply untrue, and you are aware of that...

It's morning, an appropriate time to head back to his guest room.

When he was certain that he was alone, Veritas finally allowed himself to cry.

"There's no mistake that we both are- were idiots. We both failed to see that I'm a mundanite, just like you."

In contrast to his former roommate, Kaveh is an early riser. Not exactly a morning person, but a man of discipline nonetheless. Perhaps the concluded argument last night made his rise more motivating. He had no qualms with getting out of bed, heading straight to take a shower before drinking coffee with Himeko.

The morning was wordless but calm.

Whatever happened after he reentered the studio, however, was the exact opposite.

"Delam…?" Kaveh knelt with both knees down on the floor, shocked.

"Is that you…? Delam… Delam!!!"

You tilted your head.

Delam. That was the first word you've heard upon your birth or "rebirth", depending on whose narrative was at play. You first rose from your slumber much like an earth's crust would give way to a volcano. Warmth seeped from your chest and then throughout your body, filling you with life and newfound nerves. But no one was around. You had been observing the fading trail of wet footsteps, yet lacked the courage to leave the room.

Veritas was right. The rock does have life. And you have been awakened.

You looked human. You move human.

But you do not sound human.

"Delam! I-I can't believe this!"

For words fail.

「… Who are you?」

After all, since when can statues speak?

With unsteady legs, he attempted to approach your nearly nude figure. The sheet they used to keep out dust was the only cover you had. He pulled you in when he got close enough, and you wanted to squeak when he rested his nose on your shoulder. His breath tickled hot. However, his warm tears helped you to accept the melancholic reality.

"Delam! D-Delam, my sweetheart, my (Y-(Y/n)… A-Ah… Ah…"

Kaveh pulled back only to kiss your forehead. He was warm. You are not. Despite the fabrics he wore, you can feel his heat against your "skin". His heart was beating. Such an organ does not exist inside of you.

"(Y/n), my (Y/n)…" He gasped out between peppered kisses on your neck. "Mine… My heart has returned to me. Can you hear it too? It's beating again… It beats… I never thought I'd hear my heart again since you've been gone…"

His words made little sense to you, but you knew he liked your form. Kaveh's fingers traced around you, loving each inch, whether it was curved flesh or bone-like sharpness— he didn't care for he knew it was his (Y/n) (L/n).

He's so colorful. Reds, yellows, oranges, and even hints of blues and greens. It made you silently conscious about how you were a boring dull gray.

Warm, like the sun.

「… Baobei?」

"My (Y/n)… D-Delam…" Kaveh pressed his forehead against yours, your lips nearly touching.

You wiped his tears away.

Was that your name? (Y/n)…?

"Kaveh, what the hell are you doing?!"

The blonde man momentarily stopped cradling you out of shock.

This new man was all purples, blue, gold, and small taints of cyan and red. The expression he wore made you believe he might be covetous beyond mankind. There's a level of gluttonous greed in his anger that makes even the earth like yourself phased.

「… Who is he…?」

Both of them feel familiar to you, but you do not know why.

"Veritas!" Kaveh's eyes widened. "A miracle just happened— delam— they're—!"

"Put (Y/n) down this instant!!!"

Kaveh blinked.

"What… What did you say?"

"I said put them down, damn it! Who the hell are you, touching them so carelessly like they're yours?!"

Kaveh's eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you know that name?!" Kaveh yelled. "How did you know who (Y/n) is!?"

The doctor was equally confused.

Why would the ignorance-prone Kaveh know the name of his deceased love too?

Veritas has not talked about his old assistant to any breathing being for a long time. Talking felt like admitting that they were gone for good. But in this case, it produces a contrary result.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I?!"

"I don't know— maybe because you're not from Teyvat?!"

"What are you on, you imbecile?! Can you stop defiling them with your filthy hands?!" Veritas scowled and summoned his book. "Hands. Off."

The warning only made Kaveh even more possessive. He gently pushed you behind his back, glaring at him.

"No."

"Kaveh, you pestilence ridden—!!!"

"No, not until you tell me why the hell you know the name of my fiance!"

Veritas' heart sank.

… Fiance?

No… No, no way.

What's happening? How would that make sense?!

(Y/n) is his. Why should you belong to Kaveh?

"Are… are you insane?!" Veritas screamed. "I should've—"

"What?! Threw me off the Express?! I dare you!!!" Kaveh glared. "You knew you couldn't win against me alone, that's why your best bet was to knock me out— and you know it."

"Ngh."

Neither of them realized the greater reason as to why they knew the "same" person. The doctor may have jumped through various universes, but he had not done enough to notice a key factor.

There they were, claiming to love the image behind their animated statue— when they didn't know what it was they cried for.

"Just answer the question: who is (Y/n) to you?" Kaveh grumbled.

Somehow, he was far more frightening when his voice was calm and low.

The usually diplomatic architect materialized his weapon out of thin air.

"Go on. Tell me."

The doctor stiffened. There was no way Veritas was losing this argument.

It's unethical. Wholly unethical to appeal to pathos in this manner. To weave tales for his benefit.

But the end justifies the means.

Veritas flashed you a guilt-ridden expression…

Before he said the biggest lie known only to himself.

"Professor (Y/n) (L/n) is MY dead lover, and I molded the statue based on their appearance last night!" Veritas yanked a fistful of Kaveh's shirt and brought him closer. "So why are you claiming them as YOURS?!"

…

The sound of a cane hitting the floor stopped all hell from possibly breaking loose.

Welt Yang had one foot inside the room and one out the door. He wore a knowing and empathetic look. The others were behind him, looking particularly shaken up.

This screaming match was the worst the two ever had.

"Kaveh, Dr. Ratio, enough." He calmly spoke up. "I think I understand the confusion."

"Allow me to explain…"

"I'm surprised you have no comments on their flower-bespangled clothes, yet…"

"The aesthetic is... tasteful. I like the headdress."

"Of course, you like the crown of laurel…"

"However–"

"Oh Lord Kusanali, here we go…"

Upon Welt's intervention, every piece started to fit together. The explanation was a frustratingly simple but difficult truth. (Y/n) (L/n) was not just one entity in the vast universe— there are inevitable variations.

The two eventually calmed down as they heard both sides. Veritas' (Y/n), who Kaveh later refers to as an "expy" as a placeholder name, was a professor— while Kaveh's "delam" was an archeologist. Almost the same, but not a complete copy-paste.

You, however, they are unsure of. No one knows yet if you do carry (Y/n)'s soul or if you're a mere replica. Veritas is working on the hypothesis that you were an adeptal tool who aided in freeing the vigilant yaksha from a malevolent Sumeru God.

But those bits of info doesn't matter in the end. Why?

Because they both love "you" deeply.

And these intelligent men can "learn" how to share.

"Are you not tired? Perhaps it is time I take over. Only a fool would work when completely drained." Dr. Ratio then added. "Does it not fall in my skilled hands to weave such clothing for them now? Even better than mere fabric, I'm willing to handle clay and mold it around their bo—"

"Considering how many fools can also calculate and perhaps wear an asbestos mask as a quirky character trait, it is surprising that the fool in front of me thinks he can show proficiency over a tedious task." Kaveh raised an eyebrow, seething at the thought of Veritas' unfair perverted touch lingering on your body, again.

"I think you are experiencing what is known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, as Mister Yang calls it." He added.

Veritas scoffed.

They may be revered both as geniuses in their fields, but they're reduced to kindergarten-like rivals when it comes to you. Their first order of business after another truce was to provide your clothes. Fortunately, Stelle's fashion sense was more unisex than anticipated so you borrowed hers in the meantime.

While you sat on the sofa with the bubbly March 7th, the two started planning your wardrobe. Kaveh returned later on the same evening with the most… floral clothes much to Veritas' dismay.

He missed seeing his version of (Y/n) who wore classic academic styles, not— whatever this was.

"It is mere confidence; no other variable is at play. The fool in question is the artisan responsible for the expeditious sculpting of the aforementioned statue within a singular nocturnal interval. A fact that eludes your appreciation, my less-than-appreciative and unskilled interlocutor."

Kaveh momentarily had the face of a man unpracticed in speech. People often forget that he majored in STEM, not HUMSS. Though he had some essay-based minors in his first & second years, he lacked preparation for Veritas' otherworldly vocabulary. Kaveh would whet his greatsword if Veritas said something bluntly deprecating.

Still, he can't deny that it was through Veritas' handiwork that made your hands as soft as Kaveh wanted them to be. And that secretly pisses him off.

You tilted your head.

Somehow, your creators are arguing again.

"Are you threatening to rob me of the joys I have toiled nights for just to sate your shortlived desires, Veritas?" Kaveh rebuked him sternly. "I didn't know you were kind of a brat."

"I am only offering a hand. But it's clear that you are projecting onto me."

「You two–. 」

You tried to cut in, but can't utter a word…

"I'm not projecting! I know that once you prove you can make clothes, you'll kick me out of the Express, that's just the kind of man you are! Manipulative, arrogant—"

"And you're insecure. There is no more loathsome creature than a man who does not acknowledge his own hubris and repeats his mistakes."

「Master Veritas, Master Kaveh—. 」

You loathed to watch them fight for another round of meaningless squabbles. Why weren't you blessed with speech?

"Is that so? Do you seriously subscribe to that belief?"

"Why, of course."

"You should listen to better men than yourself, then."

"Oh c'mon, knock it off!!!" March cut in, giving them both a light smack with Veritas' book. "Can't you get along better? Your little darling looks upset!!!"

The two halted. She was right, you weren't comfortable. Veritas cleared his throat awkwardly while Kaveh looked down, both apologetic.

"See, Kaveh? Your persistence caused this."

"How is it MY fault?"

"I'm merely stating that the lack of options is bound to make them uneasy." Veritas deadpanned and handed you an IPC magazine he had been trying to get you to browse. "Why don't you pick to your liking? Don't worry about expenses. I have it covered."

"What?! Do you want them to wear those un-stylish clothes? Please, you just want to have them wear your brand!"

"Don't project your carnal possessiveness as my own." Veritas scoffed. But Kaveh was right. He missed seeing his (Y/n) wear his lab coat.

"Oh really?! Fine then! Let's ask (Y/n) what they really think!"

March sighed. "Guys, I think you're forgetting that you're fighting over clothes—"

But they didn't hear her. Nothing else mattered to those two except you. And you alone.

Their partner.

Their heart.

Their reason for living.

Hence, they yelled in unison.

"Who do you prefer, assistant? Him or me?!"

"Who do you prefer, delam? Him or me?!"

Taglist: @vennnnn-diagram, @meimeimeirin, @korianne, @prophecy-harmony, @shellofthewell, @sagekun,

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