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buttercupblu · 1 month

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Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Session 2 of 10|Previous Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.1k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone would be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone was brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely couldn't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise was needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lacked yourself—otherwise, they wouldn't last a second with Gojo.

It'd be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also didn't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else could take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there it goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she couldn't handle him but because she was your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually cared about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she didn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else.

Burdening her was completely out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'? You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really had to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she could was her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you're quick to blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or were Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth was killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach put the final nail in the coffin as she reminded you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you needed help would be silly because technically it was true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break long ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It was better than nothing because if you couldn't function, Gojo couldn't be cared for.

And when you really think about it, who better to fill in for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock since you started at the ward, She's had your back, sticking with you through tough times at work when staff constantly dipped in and out of the facility like a rotating door after being unable to handle the job.

A real day one.

Next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patiently in check.

It'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest."

She's too kind and right in more ways than one.

"Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend, you think?"

Your eyes roll—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

You don't know whether to joke back or wave her off, softly smiling at her concern instead before nodding. You vow to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges. Almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks on the interstate, hogging the road, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheerful nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers, lulling you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of the melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the foamy bubbles, when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from surprise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike swept into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body said nothing was. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out heading straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean floors due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you were used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you needed to. The truth is painfully clear.

It's disrespectful even to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong, and your heart feels as if it'll burst from your chest any moment now just thinking about it. Crushing guilt wrapped you in its clutches, but it was nothing compared to the pain you might've caused.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, heart beating into your ears making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet with each step until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth becoming suddenly dry mouth when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you as attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a hammer.

Someone as kind as her, so full of light, love, and joy, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil was still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he tugs and pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and you can feel the tense stares. The unspoken judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen?

You don’t know if the murmurs are real or only in your head, but the effect is all the same, making you wish you could completely vanish. You stand like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

Gojo brims with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. As if he's daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face making you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, something...uncertain lurks behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knew he had done something wrong.

Words escape you, as if anything even needs to or could be said. But fear and guilt soon turn to anger and threatens to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust.

You are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself.

Your fists clench as you hold back tears.

What was done was done. And someone needed to pay.

But you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at the results of what happened the last time you decided to punish Gojo. All of your actions, even now, rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

You push down the knot growing in your stomach and turn away to follow the medics.

Your friend needed you more than you needed revenge.

And Gojo didn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it meant risking your job or even your life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbered thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained makes you nervous—you don't want anyone else to get hurt and Gojo knows that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm.

But it's an obviously losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

He sees no one else in the room, eyes locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it'll never be enough. Not even the goddamn military. Gojo...is the strongest, after all.

"Stop this."

Your cry freezes the room, plunging everything into a tense silence.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

You take a deep, shaky breath, silently apologizing to Yuko.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic.

But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes in surprise, amazement even, then smiles.

The submission in your voice sounded better than he could ever imagine. Like sweet music feeding his already inflated ego.

The guards exchange uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, and it's evident that restraining him forever is not possible.

And you know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this was your doing. Your mess to clean up.

You squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling to the guards to let him go. They hesitate, then reluctantly agree and step back, leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

You close your eyes and breathe, hating the idea of looking at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. And everyone else in the ward.

Gojo's satisfied grin says it all.

Let's get this over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head off if he wanted to.

Still Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, surprisingly, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And there was no need to ask why. The entire ward shot daggers at you any time someone walked by now.

She reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then patted your back as if to say, "lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding the half-pill out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering, he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting.

You took a deep breath and placed them both on your tongues, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity to feel you and closed his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed without needing the water you had set aside, a confusing mix of emotions churning as it spread through the rest of your body.

He made good on his promise and swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing look. And damn him, he's probably still thinking about it.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo. A stereotypical hint lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers. And laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around the face him, furious. Debating on whether to slap him, kick him, or knock his teeth out. Or be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water. A move you know would do no good but show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny. You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend."

His laugh fades, smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches.

...the hell is this??

You squint at him.

The words were muttered, reluctant, but there they were, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races when you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue rather than waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Now you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that. Stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he truly meant them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns, along with that smile that twists your stomach into knots.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it was, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind other than frustration.

Damn it, you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your little kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." He finishes with a wink.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory. A fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands, the jarring evidence of him not as invincible as he seems. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," and he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. But it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers into the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and feel sick even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward, lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water but the rustling fabric as he pulls the shirt over his head and pants to the ground sends heat to your cheeks.

He certainly isn't lacking in physique, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. So cute trying to hide away your thoughts.

You toss in his loofah, "Well...go on. Your water's ready." But Gojo can only grin, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Still managing to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the swirling conflict in your easy heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he just refuses to turn off. Everything was always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. He picks up a handful and actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away.

His pale eyes flutter, settling on you in a curious way.

He leans, arms flexing over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with this ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him managing to still be so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society, tf did you think??", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with bubbles.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster. Still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

But then again, this was your job...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption, no matter how twisted they seem.

Loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before gently washing his back.

He sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of his marked skin between the foam and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to the dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won. Evidence of his past before corruption. Everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

This is another first for you, this level of care. Gojo usually just hops into the shower and takes care of himself as you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably gets stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs and making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his lower region, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery so he can handle this himself.

You ignore his comment, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. You're humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

You want to scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

The water feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" his velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, down his sides, rhythm almost hypnotic and making the man's head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, to try to regain your slipping control, but you're in a losing battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

ANd God, he has to bite his lip at your touch that feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again. You've been hit not once, but twice in a day—a new personal record.

Instinctively, you reach up to shield yourself, the loofah slipping from your hand, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream prepares to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand and places a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." He swipes a lone droplet hanging from your eyelash. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, nerves on fire as you're forced into this close proximity for the second time today. Inches away from his face that softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better but he never felt threatened in the first place.

Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach. His finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

"Now," his eyes flicker to your bottom lip, "You're so very good at your job, Nurse." He smoothly pulls it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to my strength, let alone deal with me yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel.

"You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of it, any of this.

You hesitate, unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will fare against me then, hmm?"

Gojo knows he's a prodigy, yet he still manages to surprise himself sometimes, eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter. He almost feels a prick from the daggers you throw with your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that, Nurse," and he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

Gojo slightly tilts his head.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing.

Instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, salacious, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark. Wondering what his idea of "fun" was like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, instead you burn between your legs.

Fuck, you've got to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. Gruffing, you lower to your knees and begin drying the floor of his messes, hoping to distract you from your questionable sanity.

Rustling fabric fills the chamber as he dries off, and when you figure it's safe, you look up to a nude Gojo. Still dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Ah, let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

Standing on your tiptoes to reach it, a sliver of your midriff peeked out, but what captured his attention most was the way the sun rays washed your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of them between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your sentiment was...odd.

This was the first time anyone had cared to do something so simple for Gojo. And the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict and Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

"Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?"

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward now, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off and who could blame her?

You were the anomaly he chose to show mercy to and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova." She cleared her throat and did a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way the stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you scramble to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall taking deep breaths, completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, Yuko, flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's all just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurer in the shadows awaiting your every move.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, deep-diving the web for information on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

The man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible. Conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own sanity. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax, sleeping eluding you and mind wandering to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to seem him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr.

to keep it reader-friendly, yk?

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n.

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭.

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou

#bluuharem #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #Satoru Psyche

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bobluvbot · 4 months

Text

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much.

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief.

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop.

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you.

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year.

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it.

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly.

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise?

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too?

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it.

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating.

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing.

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice.

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were.

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait.

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence.

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in.

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.”

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room.

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend.

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun.

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged.

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again.

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together.

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal.

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory.

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in.

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool.

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back.

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well.

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius.

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet.

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private.

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain.

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.

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gomu-fer · 3 months

Text

Sun kissed

Monkey D. Luffy x reader

Fluff fluff and just more fluff, confession, gender neutral reader no use of pronouns or gendered descriptions

1.5k words

You had never met someone like Luffy

He was once in a lifetime kind of guy, but familiar all the same; like the sun going down painting the skies with beautiful hues to then disappear as the moon anchors up above, the scenery a natural beauty that would repeat itself the next day but breathtaking nonetheless

Relentless and brave beyond belief, the only thing keeping him going when his body gives up being his unmeasurable conviction, a selfish captain that always gets what he wants, he hates being called a hero yet he possesses the biggest kind heart of gold you had ever seen

It wasn’t a surprise when you realized your admiration for your Captain went beyond just that, after all, he had freed you; offering you a place in his crew, an unbreakable friendship that you cherished and a promise to both achieve your dreams together

The roles of captain and crew member being almost nonexistent nor necessary; every single strawhat had sworn loyalty to Luffy just because he had been the purest of friends, not needing an explanation for their past or behavior before extending his support and kindness. He saw something in all of you and that was enough, his role only held by this unspoken respect and trust

However, the base of the strawhats crew was the already so mentioned friendship, there was this dynamic you had to follow even if it pained you to do so

Because you didn’t wanted to get in his way

Luffy was so busy working to be the king of the pirates, you knew the moment he got to see you walking before him with your heart in your hands he would decline the offering, even if the lines between your relationship were already so blurry

Even as you beat yourself up to ‘stay in the lane’ there was this natural flow that would bring Luffy to your shore, as it would also bring you to his

It’s always you and him

You the first to jump to defend his name even if held by gunpoint, screaming at the top for your lungs that he would be the next king of the pirates making his heart swell. You the first he looks for in the battlefield, he believes in your strength but his mind can only think about your safety and wellbeing. You the first to join in his laughter, joy spreading all across your being as you both giggle with big bright smiles that seem to grow bigger at each other’s sight. You the only one he doesn’t steal food from when you’re sitting at dinner

you and him

Regardless of how close and how happy you were, souls destined to intertwine, Luffy would be a liar if he said he didn’t notice the sadness and uncertainty that started to gloss over your face whenever your gaze looked for his. A lot of things he is, perceptive a quality a lot of people seemed to brush off

“Why are you doing that face?”

You sat side by side on his seat on top of The Sunny, the celebration for yet another victory unfolding behind you becoming a little unbearable since your eyes could not be peeled off your Captain, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings hanging form your tongue

You crook a small smile- “What face?” Your question answering his questions makes the pirate frown and huff in annoyance, his arms crossing in front of his scarred chest

“You have been doing that face every time I look at you”- even though he’s making an statement it sounds more like a reproach “Are you upset with me?”

Your heart falls to the sea that rocks the ship at a slow tranquil pace, your breath picking up speed as your try to make up for the emptiness in your chest- “N-No Luffy I could never get mad at you!”

He remains quiet, a frown still hanging form his lips as his eyes do a one over your nervous form, as if looking for an answer in your body language, but it ever appears- “Something is not right, you’re not… you”

Your face drops and your eyebrows knit in pain, making it now impossible to miss the thoughts that plague you as they reflect on your face, a quality of yours Luffy quite enjoyed- “I love you, please come back to you”

The first three words hit you like a Marine’s ship, eyes widening in shock mouth going dry as they replay for a couple more times before you come back to earth. A pang now replacing the emptiness you once felt as a remainder that you were in fact a real person, a human being with emotions and desires that could not be ignored for much longer

“I- you love me?” You sound absolutely incredulous

“Well of course I do! You’re one of my best friends” Luffy answered beaming with a 3000 kilowatt smile that has you burning at the sight of it

You feel dizzy, your mind reeling making everything around you spin, your breath that once struggled to be kept in now leaving your mouth in an exasperated sigh that makes your Captain confused

“What? Is that.. wrong?”

“No it’s not , it’s just that-” your words get stuck in your throat, you massage your head and temples as you meditate the answer you’re about to give, a fear creeping up that grows exponentially when you meet his eyes again

“I love you too, but not as a friend” it even surprises you how delicate and patiently every word left you, your heart coming back to life by beating faster and faster as every second passed

Luffy stays quiet again, which only feeds on your worry since he’s not someone that find themselves at a loss of words

“Oh… so like…” he struggles to pint point exactly what is it you’re trying to tell him, the thought of a romantic interest never crossing his mind before, the label lost in the wind of his wild determined motions that had led you to him. He knows this tingling sensation he gets whenever you’re alone isn’t something friends are supposed to feel, because it only happens with you. And it grows even stronger when you smile, and when your hands touch? He feels like he might combust; he knows you’re special to him, but it never occurred to him what that might actually intel

This ‘love’ Sanji always babbles about when he’s sitting waiting for his meal and tries to strike a conversation, though the cook seemed to had painted it as something more complicated, what Luffy felt for you was not complicated at all, he loved you and that was it, clear as water. This being the reason he had never approached you about it, he wasn’t sure how to go about this new feeling that was taking over him every time he saw you, an urgency to always be with you, his body begging to crash into yours

“Love” he completes his sentence though it feels like he’s assuring himself that what he just heard was what he understood

“Yes, I love you Luffy, more than friends do” he nods still thinking about your statement

“Ok! Me too!” Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of your skull, you’re so confused for a statement so blunt and direct

“Y-you… love me?”

“Yes, quite a lot, as much as meat actually!”- You had never came across someone like Luffy, he always seemed to surprise you with his antics but this… you were dumbfounded- “You’re funny, beautiful and strong! And so smart too! How could I not love you?” The way he speaks about his love for you makes your stomach turn in glee, like its the most obvious thing in the world, like he knows the sky is blue

Something you had never had before

A honest and real smile now spreads on your face which makes your Captain smile even wider back at you, his mission of bringing you back now complete and he basks on it, happy he got his way

“See! There you are!” His hands come up to crush your cheeks together, his fingers warm form the heat that exudes form them

“Luffy” the way his name leave your lips begs him to stop, big chocolate eyes hanging form above you like the stars in the night. Ever so slowly, your face cuts the space between you inch by inch leaving enough room for your stretchy captain to pull away if he wishes to. But he stays completely still, eager to find out where are you going and hoping it’s only closer

Your lips graze softly over his, a featherlight feeling that could be missed yet it sparks something deep inside both of you. You pull away to gaze at Luffy expectantly, as if afraid you had overstepped only to be met with twinkling eyes and a happy face. The butterflies in your stomach go wild once again but now they push you to kiss him again with more confidence and intention and Luffy welcomes it gladly, almost too grateful

“This is so fun, keep doing it!” He states between smiles and laughter that make you beam- “But only do it to me”

As if you were to love anyone else like this

Masterlist

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x y/n #one piece luffy #luffy #one piece imagine #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #x reader #luffy op

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latenightdaydreams · 21 days

Text

Triggered!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

This was inspired by a Tiktok I saw from the creator CrëëpyKönig (Spooky Vexx)! So if you enjoy please go show them love and please remember to be kind and respectful 🩷 Link attached!

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, bullying, stalking, obsessive König, non-con, p in v, biting, anal, humiliation, recording

1.6k word count

On KorTac’s base, König is known as a bully. He is a massive, arrogant, and aggressive man who always seems to enjoy stepping on those beneath him. When you joined a much smaller woman, you quickly found that you weren’t spared from this treatment.

A year into being a part of KorTac and things with König have only escalated. No one is brave enough to stand up to him, so you’re left to fend for yourself. He uses his height to his advantage as well as setting you off by being incredibly sexist. In his eyes, you’re the easiest target on base.

Underneath your calm exterior, a rage was forming. Yes, you’re small, but you know your own strength. Respect is the only reason you haven’t gone completely crazy on your colonel. Everyone knows he deserves it.

It’s been raining hard these last few weeks, leaving the outdoors training field to turn into a muddy mess. That doesn’t stop the military, though. König has his men, and you, outside running drills back and forth through the slick terrain. Everyone is slipping, unable to gain proper footing; yet it’s when you fall that you hear König’s harsh accent boom throughout the open space.

“Pathetic little girl!” König barks. “Get up!”

As you scramble to your feet, you feel his hands violently lift you before setting you on your feet. You can feel your hands trembling, but not with fear; it’s that rage. König looms over you, yelling down at you as everyone around you stops to watch the vicious verbal assault with looks of sympathy on their faces.

Time seems to slow as you lift your dominant hand into a fist, pulling back and punching König with everything you’d got. His head actually snaps back, causing a loud gasp to echo out amongst the team. Your eyes widen once you realize what you’ve done, you just assaulted your colonel.

König feels a sharp pain, followed by the taste of blood beginning to fill his mouth. This little bitch. His eyes snap down to yours with a look of shock.

First, it was one laugh, followed by a roaring laughter that spread between everyone. The smallest tear slips from König’s eye as they widen, glaring down at you. He looks around quickly, trying to fight back the waterfall of tears threatening to be released. It’s as if he’s eleven again and his entire class is mocking him. For a moment, he isn’t the 6’10 280lb colonel; he’s that chubby 5’9 child that didn’t fit in.

Slowly, his look of shock turns into a wild look of horror. Without another word to you, König leaves. He hurries to his barracks, leaving you alone with an odd feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. A few people come up to you simply to thank you for doing what they’ve been too scared to do. Others make sure that you’re okay.

The events of the day came and went. It was talked about for a while, but you were never reprimanded so no one ever reported you. König has backed off of you, leaving you to believe he simply realizes that you’re not the one to mess with. If only you knew how wrong you were.

Then you begin to notice König almost everywhere you are. He’s never obvious, hiding within the cover or crowds and dark corners of the halls. Almost as if he has become your own personal boogeyman. At the same time, it’s base and your schedules line up, so maybe you’re just being paranoid. Simply noticing him where you never did before because of the deep-rooted fear that he might retaliate one day.

Your first thought is the correct one though. König is everywhere you are, watching every move you make, attempting to familiarize himself with every little aspect of your day to day. Ever since you humiliated him, he’s grown obsessed with you. Not even a fully grown man has ever had the balls to do what you did to him. That day he cried like he hadn’t in a very long time, not since his mother passed.

The desire to own you, forever, consumes his every waking thought. His mind continues to replay the look in your eyes when you hit him, the sounds of laughter, and the taste of blood. He’s obsessed with the idea of getting back at you, making you feel the humiliation and torment he felt in that moment.

König was missing from training today, not that you mind, it was just odd. His job is his life and you’ve never known him to have missed a day. Either way, you felt as if you were finally able to relax and focus on excelling at the tasks at hand.

That very night as you walk back to your room, a recruit you don’t recognize walks up to you with a note in their hand. He holds it out to you, looking into your eyes with a blank expression. You reach out and open it to read that you’re wanting to finish signing paperwork. Confused, you look up, ready to ask a question; but the recruit has left in a hurry.

You look down at your watch to see how late it is, wondering if the people in the offices are even still there at this hour. With a deep sigh you turn and head across base. The sun is setting, the sky a beautiful pale blue color setting a calm tone over the moment.

Upon entering the building, you notice that the halls are empty. Some lights are still on, so you just continue on to the room that was scribbled down. You knock. No answer. You know again and wait before trying the handle. You walk in to see a blinking red light in the darkness. Confused, you linger for a second; long enough for König to reach out, grabbing your neck, and pulling you inside.

You get slammed on to the wall as the door closes leaving you in complete darkness. Short shaky breaths flee your lips as you try to not scream; you know it’s König. A million things are running through your mind as you gaze up in his direction.

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to be bold, but your voice cracks.

“You.” König whispers, dragging your body forward and slamming you down on a desk.

Your head hits the cold wood hard enough to cause a ringing in your ears. In a panic you begin to push up against the desk, but it’s no use since König is nearly twice your size. Finally, you realize the blinking light to a camera recording; what is he about to do?

König lets go of your neck and moves his hands all over your body, tracing every curve and contour of your much smaller frame. He completely towers over you, consuming you. Having you underneath his fingers, completely defenseless and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t do this!” You cry out as he begins to strip you of your clothing. His sharp canines dig into your back as he slides your shirt up, pulling a loud scream from you. No one heard you, you're completely alone with this monster.

“You’ve been an arrogant, disrespectful, little slut!” König shouts as he spanks your ass harshly.

He undresses behind you, pulling his pants down to be around his knees. His eyes flick over to the camera to make sure it’s still recording before looking back down at you. Your outline is visible to him as his eyes have adjusted to the dark. He laces his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back to bite your neck. Again, you let out a loud cry making König feel a rush of excitement. The more pain you feel, the more pleasure he feels. He lets go and you fall back on the desk.

“Keep screaming for us, Hase.” He mocks.

Us?

Your thoughts are redirected as you feel his cock slip along your dry folds. You beg him to not do this as your hips squirm back and forth to attempt to get him away. The searing pain of his cock pushing into you causes your body to tense up.

As you lift your abdomen from the desk König slams you back down. His hand remains on your back to hold you there as his hips pull back and slam into you. A soft moan leaves his lips as a pained whimper leaves your own.

“This…” König speaks with a voice laced with lust. “…is what women are made for. To be whores. To be fucked.” He growls as his hips begin to buck forward into you faster.

In infrared, the camera records König’s thick veiny cock slamming in and out of your tight little cunt. The pained look on your face and sad little whimpers coming through perfectly. On the other side of the camera men sit with their cocks in their hands, masturbating to your torment.

“Say you’re a worthless whore.” König demands as he closes his eyes and leans his head back to immerse himself into the pleasure of you.

You say nothing, only angering König more. He pulls out of you, spitting on to his hand to rub on the head of his cock before moving back to you. The tip pushes against your asshole.

“Say it.” He growls once more.

“I- I’m a worthless whore.” You say with a weak voice.

“Ah, good girl.” König whispers as he presses his cock painfully into your ass.

Your humiliation pleases König. Now you feel how he felt when you hit him. How he felt when the squad laughed at him. Now you have thousands of people getting pleasure from watching you getting violated; your small body destroyed in König’s hands.

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scorpioriesling · 5 months

Text

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly wed, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"

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lazywrites · 4 months

Note

Heyaaa i have a request of a Kurt x reader about a reader who's kind of a punk but has a soft spot for him

You are one lucky anon, i had something like that in the drafts already, she's not a punk, she's a total villain but still.

Nemesis

Kurt wagner x fem!reader (3.5k) Meet cute, reader is a villain

You were not looking for any forgiveness or any friends, your only purpose in Genosha was rebuilding and serving your fellow mutants, few are brave enough to look you in the eye, until one man takes the day to challenge you.

The budding region of genosha was still a work in progress, after the X-men and their lot left the island it was up to all the mutants on the region to simply find their own way to rebuild and organize as always, you came to the island only after you were sure they had left, no need to be getting caught up on their affairs, they would not be pleased with your presence around them either.

You relationship with the X-men and humans in general was shaky to say the least, it was very clear to you that after the last battle you had fought alongside Magneto, and against them no less, you would not be welcomed with open arms.

You had been severely disappointed in both Magnus and Xavier after the whole fiasco involving asteroid M, it was utterly ridiculous letting Magneto simply rope you into helping raise the asteroid only for him to drop it back into the sea anyways, it seemed like there was no safe place for mutants after that, not that you would have been welcomed by anyone, you were not even welcome in Genosha for a while until you proved that your gift would be suitable for rebuilding and moving the structures as the appointed leaders desired.

More than a normal outcast, you were labeled a terrorist and feared even by other mutants for simply refusing to beg and plead for humanity’s sympathy, if fighting for the liberation of your people was terrorism the sure, terrorist, villain, it doesn’t matter.

There was no denying your reputation was intimidading, but your control over gravity was the building crew’s best asset if they wished to finish this rail link system by the end of the week, you stood above the tunnel you were helping the workers to dig, right at the Apex of a crane and far away from the reach of anyone else, you looked down at the work site and tried to visualize what it would look like in a few hours, perhaps you could find a way to speed up the process even more. But then, you’d have to go down and speak to those pesky engineers, no matter, best to just stick to the outline they gave you, that’s what you were thinking until a peculiar noise sounded behind you.

You turn back only to see some kind of dark cloud, slowly dissipating, and there stood a stranger grasping onto the metal bars to keep steady, perhaps he hadn’t considered the height before impulsively coming up to talk to you, he steadies himself with both hands and feet and lifts his head to stare up at you with intense yellow eyes.

“Oh my, oh, this is high, Mein Gott, i did not consider the Wind either” Its not that you were startled by him in any way, but the way he came up so high only to speak to you was slightly intimidating if you had to admit, and you were not exactly in the mood to talk, so taking a step back was only natural.

It would have been a bad move if it were anyone else, but still you let yourself fall back a little, if only to teach this nosy stranger a little lesson.

He lunges foward while still trying to keep himself steady in the bars “No, no no, hold on, be careful my friend” He stops reaching and waving at you once he realizes you feet are not touching the bars at all, you had been floating all along “Oh, that’s good, umm...” He bends over again to get a grip on the bars.

“And you are?” You arch your eyebrow and speak in a rushed tone, wanting to shoo him away as fast as possible so you can go back to contemplating the massive tunnels you had yet to help dig on the ground.

He steadies himself once more, the Wind is blowing particularly Strong today “Kurt Wagner, at your service, you are very famous around here” that sure surprises you, you’ll admit.

“Oh, am i now?”

After many years playing the villain you could confidently say you were never nervous around anyone, but his intense and bright eyes felt like they were studying your every expression, practically glued to your face since the first moment you locked eyes with this man, this time it takes a conscious effort not to shy away.

“Yes, i’ve heard all sorts of things, that you were involved in most of the construction around here, truly impressive” it’s getting harder and harder not to break away from his stare, you try to match it’s intensity, even if his eyes hold no malice there is no way for you to know about his intentions, he continues.

“I’ve just joined the council” he finally breaks the eye contact and you hold back a sigh of relief “Was surprised then, when they spoke of you, how you helped build the very room they were standing on”

“so?”

He smiles up at you, you have to admit he has an endearing smile, a wholesome sort for sure, definely not Hellfire club, you could tell they wouldn’t hire someone like him to try and recruit you.

“Haha” His laugh is not humorous, its more awkward than anything, now it seems that your stare is burning a whole through him “I simply wanted to see if for myself, from what i had known of you before this is unexpected, miss Nemesis.” So he even knows your alias, that earns him a smirk from you.

“Let me guess, you’re with the X-men?” his eyes widen just a fraction “Here to arrest me, hero?” You can see him trying to keep up the smile but now it’s more awkward than anything, you enjoy seeing him squirm.

His tail, which was mostly curved down behind his back to aid with balance swishes back and fourth in a gesture you can only assume is slightly nervous and he nods his head enough for you to understand. But you don’t exactly feel like fighting anyone especially at this time of the day “Don’t worry, i am here simply to contribute.”

He shakes off the awkward air pretty well, but the tail still betrays that he is nervous around you “Well, i simply wanted to see for myself, don’t worry, i am not so judgmental.” He tilts his head to think for a moment “Still i must say my friend, this is a very unsafe place to work, perhaps we can chat somewhere else?”

For the first time in this day, perhaps in the whole month, you try to be nice to someone you’re talking to, making an effort to smile down at Kurt, and he smiles back “Fine, i’ll get you down”

You know that the man has at the very least some very good mobility and could get himself down even if it took some time, but he’s one of the X-men it seems, and if you’re not going to fight him you will at least mess with him a little, before he can properly answer you fly towards him and wrap both of your arms around his torso “Ready?” you say it right next to his pointy ear and feel his body shudder, it seems cruel but making people squirm is your favorite pastime.

“Ah, Miss Nemesis i could get us down as well, you-“ you cut him off before he can suggest anything “Nonsense, i won’t let you fall, hero.” He squirms again in your embrace “and a member of the council deserves preferential treatment, yes?”

And then you fall, you both fall.

But of course you can fly, no sane person would climb up 95 meters without being able to fly, hopefully Kurt also had that notion in his head.

You expected him to be screaming and clinging onto you terrified like the other poor souls you have subjected to this before, but he seems to be enjoying himself, much to your surprise he even lets go of your back to feel the Wind in his hand and smiles wide at you, you can’t help but smile with him, but only for a moment, you have an image to mantain.

Before you can both reach the floor by a few meters or so you gently float down and nudge him towards the ground so he can step down first, he’s still chuckling softly under his breath when he looks up at you “While i disagree that council members should receive better treatment, i can’t truly say that it isn’t fun.” And that earns him another smirk from you.

“So, now that things are as you desired, will you tell me what you really want, Mr.Wagner?”

He’s awkward again, seems not even a moment of levity is enough to loosen his tongue, he clears his throat and runs a hand through his now disheveled hair, which seems to be perpetually in shadow.

“Ah, yes, i am here for the communities of Faith and thought to invite you, you know...” You don’t know, while you had a few encounters with religion, Human religion, you were never faithful or pious and in the times you’ve tried to be, it never ended well for you. That piques your curiosity more than anything he’s said or done so far, you and Faith in the same phrase.

“Invite me where?” You sharply question, to you it seems like he’s going to turn around and mock you at any moment, and you ready yourself for it.

“To our first gathering i hope, it might seem strange to you my friend but your work is greatly appreciated by, well, by most of us here.” and as angry as you’d like to be, as much as you thought you would have to threaten to crush his head you can’t bring himself to, that endearing fanged smile is back on his face and his eyes are once again burning a whole through you.

“And you want me join your sermon or something?” you scoff at him

“Precisely!”

“wait, are you the actual priest?” You arch your eyebrow, the sermon comment was more ironic than anything.

“Well, in certain ways, its more complicated than Worth explaining my friend.” You can tell that your curiosity is contributing to his expectation, he really seems to want you to go for some reason, you try to think of a way to shut him down without being so rough.

“Well that won’t work, joining in with a crowd of pious fools won’t be enough to get me into heaven, hero.”

He raises his head even more and looks you right in the eye, his smile is now tight lipped as if in defiance of you. “The only fools are the ones unwilling to listen miss Nemesis, anyone can be redeemed, they only have to work for it.” And you know he is talking about you.

“Now i know what you will try to say, but you have always cared for your people haven’t you?”

That softens you somewhat, few truly acknowledge all you’ve done for mutantkind, save for perhaps Magneto, and that is why you were willing to aid him in his schemes, even if they rarely pay off.

“I have? I-“He interrupts you once more.

“So you will see, that all the hard work you’ve put in this city is paying off, we’ll meet on that empty building right beside the fountain, it would be great if you... you know” And you sincerely consider it, perhaps it would not be so bad, if only to see this strange man again.

“At 8PM, you’ll know it when you see it.”

“A little late isn’t it?” You question, only to divert his attention from the fact you don’t have anything clever to say.

“It’s the villain special” he narrows his eyes and his smile turns smug after saying that, and then he’s gone in a purple cloud that looks surprisingly beautiful, but with a somewhat unpleasant smell, leaving you stunned.

What a little shit.

You do end up going, and not going at the same time. The rail link takes so much work that when you reach the fountain his ‘sermon’ is almost over.

From what you’ve deduced it was mostly an introduction from him as the new neighbourhood friend or something, you recognize one of the buildings you’ve helped lay the foundation to, well lit with candles and full of pious fools just like you had imagined. You wouldn’t dare going in, with your current uniform that made you look intimidating and powerful now dirty and opaque from all the soot you had to raise up, this was a hard day of work, a few others passing by the fountain stop to look at you as you float down and approach one of the building’s windows.

You press your hands against the glass and peer inside, there are so many different mutants in there, all seem to be engaging in friendly conversations with one another, they seem at Peace, it’s... curious.

Kurt is there too, surrounded by people, they seem to be paying attention to what he’s saying, every word, just like you did earlier today when he called you a fool, he seems to truly have a way with words. The weight of the day’s work seems to finally catch up to you and you decide to give in and finally sit, leaning your back against the window until you are under it sitting against the wall, and for that moment you understand the fools inside, the athmosphere is peaceful and it makes you almost drowsy.

You close your eyes and listen to the gentle murmurs inside until you lose track of time. When you finally come to they are all walking out, or were, the first few that have walked out stop dead in their tracks to point at you and whisper among themselves “Is that Nemesis?” ,”i had no idea people like her even believe in God.”, “Don’t say it like that, she’s done a lot of good.” “Done a lot of bad too”.

Even under their scrutiny you don’t bend, better to just lift your head and look them in the eyes fearless as always. You built the sidewalk and you’ll sleep on it if you want Dammit, that is until Kurt comes out.

“And Meine Freunde you all can come talk to me any time and-“ he cuts himself off when realizing no one is paying attention to him “Oh” he looks at you with wide eyes, as if he had forgotten he asked you to come, or was surprised you did.

Perhaps its all the work but you find that at that moment his stare is almost unbearable, the longer he stands and looks at you with all the others the worse you feel, this was definely a mistake, should you have simply strolled in as you would any other place? Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all.

This kind of place, these kind of people, they’re not for you. So you take off and fly away

And away, until you can no longer see the glow of the candles, you land at a random rooftop next to a clearing and face the city, the city you helped build, the same city that wouldn’t really accept you, maybe if you had been more outspoken they’d understand where you’re coming from, but there are some things you will always be unable to change, you sit at the edge and stare for a few minutes.

That same pesky noise and smell from earlier today flood your senses, and you simply sigh.

“Come to get me down like i’m a cat in a tree?”

“If anything, you were the one getting me down from high places, Meine Liebe.” And you know exactly what he just called you, when you risk a glance at him he almost blends in with the night sky except for the eyes, and he sits down at the edge with you.

“I must admit, you are pretty good at your job, they seemed happy.” You don’t look at him anymore, you just say it and look down at your muddy boots.

“My-Uh, Thank you, i thought you weren’t there, thought that perhaps my finishing line wasn’t very enticing to you.”

You almost laugh at that.

“No, it was exactly when i was sold, maybe start with that next time” You can tell that he’s turned to look at you by the faint yellow glow his eyes emit, he’s staring again, what’s with him and your face?

“So...”

“So?”

“Why didn’t you come in?” He asks like it would have been the easiest thing in the world and you just have to scoff at that again.

“That would have been something, should i have let you baptize me as well?” as much as you would hate to admit it out loud, you do enjoy the back and fourth with him, even if its not the most interesting conversation you two could be having.

He’s still just staring at you, waiting for the confession as if you presence at his little event had been a promise, you are not a pious woman and have never been, you don’t need forgiveness.

Never asked for it.

“You heard them, that sort of thing is not for me, this is the path i’ve taken in my life, i will not lament now.” You open your eyes after just realizing you had closed them “it was nice, seeing them all together, back in my brotherhood times i heard so many complaints, about how they didn’t fit in, how the humans would just-“acknowledging this leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and it’s not your place to complain anymore, that was a long time ago “I don’t know, treat us like we’re the demons.”

You can feel the faint glow of his eyes pointed somewhere else, so now it’s your turn to look at him, and his turn to face his feet “They’d stare at me too” and you can imagine that, in your eyes he’s incredibly handsome but to a human? They have no taste anyway.

“And you managed to forgive them?” He looks up again, now you’re both face to face.

“Who?”

“Humans, you’re one of the ‘good’ guys after all” and he smiles at you once again, when you look for long enough you find that his smile is almost catlike in a way you cannot yet define. “They must have been hard on you”

“Ah, that they were” he pauses for a moment “Judge not, and you will not be judged, condemn not, and you will not be condemned, forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

He’s managed to soften your heart for the second time this day.

“So, it’s their loss i guess” you sigh and continue “I can’t say i have much forgiveness in my heart for them”

“Are you open to it?” And you sigh again, not knowing if it’s because of him or not.

“Someday i might be, i have a reputation to keep up with you know” And he’s still smiling at you even now, his face is so endearing it makes your lips quirk up as well.

“I’m getting the impression your reputation is changing, at least around this city, miss Nemesis.”

“It sure will change if i keep sleeping on sidewalks and attending sermons” Now you start feeling playful, swinging your legs back and fourth in the air “How did you find me anyway?”

He leans back and reaches for something behind him, smiling at you with his fangs in full display, almost childlike and shows you a pair of binoculars, You simply scoff and turn away from him “unbelievable.” and again for good measure "ridiculous."

“It was quite difficult to keep up with you as well, Nemesis.”

“Y/N.” your turn to him once again

“Huh, y-yes, miss Y/N.” His eyes have widened again making the light even more intense right on you, they seem like two lanterns in the night.

“Can’t have you just calling me that all the time, it’s losing the edge, you know.”

You try and look up at the stars but his eyes are still on you, distracting you, making you nervous.

“And i quite prefer your real name, it suits you much better if you ask me” He seems to be very pleased just from learning something that simple, maybe he thinks he’s fixing you, you’ll let him dream for now.

“Will you be there next time?” he questions

“Nemesis won’t, but maybe Y/N will.” He laughs at that, more from contentment than amusement.

“I’ll be waiting at the door, we should definely get down, i think someone lives up here, meine liebe.” You shouldn’t let him get away with it, usually you’d threaten any random man who tried to refer to you like that, but he is far from ordinary or random.

“What? You want me to fly you down again?” You ask, not really expecting him to agree.

“Yes!”

You turn towards him and let your face betray that you are somewhat bewildered, he’s looking at you like your childhood puppy when you offered it a walk. Logically he only came up there to 'comfort you' at least in his mind, you knew it wasn't like that, but it would be of no use ruining the moment for him.

“I-You-Ugh, fine, I guess you are up here for me after all” and you stand up, waiting for him to follow you, you float upwards and lower your hand for him.

He grasps your hand firmly, his hand almost fully encompassing yours, and it is also surprisingly warm, must be the chill of the night air.

You think.

I'll definely write more villain reader, if anyone has any headcanon requests for a villain with Kurt i'm all ears.

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #x men x reader #x men headcannons #nightcrawler #Lazy writes #marvel x reader

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fairysluna · 1 year

Text

little wolf.

Cregan's little sister is the only one who can change his mind, which is why Aemond decides to use his charms and convince her to support the Green using some peculiar methods.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Tags/TW: smut (p in v, loss of virginity, f!oral sex, praise, breeding, kinda innocent!kink), teasing, a bit of mean!aemond, slight dubcon, cregan being an overprotective brother, cursing. if something is missing let me know!!

Author's Note: mimor @tvrgvryen sent me this request a few days ago and I had to do it bc i loved it so much. So here it is!

Word Count: 4.9k

Aemond has always been a good observer. He has always noticed the small details, the reason why people acted as they did, the way people treated others. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were for your beloved brother Cregan.

The day he first stepped into Winterfell after Vhagar gracefully landed on the snow, he saw how brave Cregan was for stepping between you and the enormous beast. However, that mere gesture exposed the big affection he had for you; his only sister, and with that, Aemond knew what was Lord Stark's greatest weakness… you.

He went to the North with a mission, a task to fulfill, and he was not a man that was known to give up on things. Aemond was resilient, determined. He would not accept a negative answer from the Warden of the North, and even though he knew about the oath and how Starks are famously known for being loyal to their words; he was eager to find his way to gain the North's support.

And his opportunity came up with you; the sweet, kind Lady Stark. Beloved by all, you were also known as the Heart of Winterfell, for it was said that even the small folk held dear for you. Everything that Aemond heard about you were nothing but good words, showing how much people appreciated you, which only impulsed Aemond's bad intentions.

It is true, a Stark never forgets an oath, but the North gathers when the wolf howls… and even though your brother was the visible face of your House, everyone knew that it was you the one that had true power over the masses; your gentleness made you the Queen of the North, and that information was enough for Aemond to start his devious schemes.

It all started at the training yard. The snow had fallen earlier in the morning, covering the ground with a thick layer of snow. He was staring at you as you struggled with a bow and arrow, not being able to hit the bullseye. This would only make you groan with impatience, despair even. Aemond pressed his lips and looked down at his shoes, trying to show himself amused by you wrestling.

"You're too tense, my lady," he said as he slowly walked towards you.

His black fur coat covering his slim shape, his white hair perfectly still despite the crazy wind, his hands at the back of his body. He looked so effortlessly elegant, it almost made you blush.

"My prince," you greeted him, bowing swiftly, "I'm sorry you have to watch this terrible attempt."

"I didn't know women were allowed to train here in the North," he spoke, politely as he stretched his arm to touch the fine wood of the bow you were holding.

"We're not," you replied, "but my brother insists I should be prepared to defend myself, so he forces me to train either way."

"Mhm…" he nodded, "your brother is a clever man. A beauty like yours is the target of many deprived men, he's doing well by letting you learn how to protect yourself."

"But he barely has time to teach me," you complained, placing your arms in position to shoot again, "now he's in a meeting with the Mormonts, and I am here," you let the arrow go, but it didn't even hit the target. "...failing miserably."

Aemond chuckled, and you inevitably blushed at the low sound that came out of him. You stared at him from your peripheral view, analyzing his undeniable beauty and flirtatious smirk which made your heart beat a little too fast.

"You're too tense," he repeated, as he shifted his position until he was behind you.

His hands went to your shoulders, and he squeezed them softly giving you a soft and short massage that made you close your eyes. Soon, one of his hands reached yours, the one that was holding the bow's grip. He wrapped it around yours, and you immediately felt his warmth on your cold skin. It made you gasp silently.

"You see, I'm not so good at using a bow, I think my weapon of choice is the sword," he whispered, getting closer to your ear, his breath smacking against your shivering skin, "but I know things… and I can teach you if you please, my lady."

His nose rubbed against your hair, and your delicious smell almost made him groan. Soon, the prince helped you to fix your position as your breathing was getting heavier and an unknown feeling was installed in your lower belly. You feel the heat even though it was freezing cold, you felt his body pressing against yours leaving a sensation of distress, as if your body was begging you for something.

You feared of someone seeing you; the position was quite compromising, and you were certain your reputation would be stained if someone witnessed such a scandalous scene. It felt too intimate for you, perhaps not so proper for a maiden like you. You would have tried to push him away, but there was something within him that did not allow you to do so; it was as if he had bewitched you with his charms, and you were under a spell from which you were not able to wake up.

"It's simple, my lady," he explained, "you must relax, you must let go," his voice so deep and low against your ear, "come on, no one's watching, you're under no pressure…"

His touch, so delicate and gentle, mixed with his words, which you quickly misinterpreted; 'no one's watching', it sounded more like an invitation rather than words of comfort. You couldn't help but to sigh, a gesture that brought a slight smirk upon Aemond's face.

"Let yourself go, Lady Stark," his voice turned more breathy, rapier. "That's it, so good… now, eyes on the target, don't take your eyes off of it, okay?"

You simply nodded, wildly blushing at his praise. There was a subtle shiver that went to your trembling hands, you cleared your throat trying to play it down.

"Take deep breaths, don't close your eyes," his hands left yours, now going to your abdomen, his nose brushing against your ear as he kept whispering, "good, good girl."

Your teeth captured your lower lip as you held back a whimper. Squirming in your place, you felt weak on the knees as his hands left a squeeze on your hips.

"Now… shoot."

You listened, and your hand let go of the string. Your eyes widened with surprise as the arrow hit close to the bullseye, which was certainly not perfect, but it was an improvement. A smile appeared in your face as you tilted your head to appreciate your achievement, and soon a giggle escaped you.

"Oh, Gods…" you sighed, "I did it."

"You did it," Aemond said, "you did so well."

His words made your face turn to face him, and his lips were just a few inches away from yours. Your breath hitched, as your heart pounded with so much strength that you thought he would be able to hear it… even feel it. His hand traveled upwards your body until it reached the nape of your neck.

For a moment you thought he would kiss you, that his soft-looking lips would dare to touch yours. But suddenly, he pulled away. Few seconds later, footsteps were heard dragging the snow beneath their feet, and soon you found out the reason behind his abrupt reaction.

"Sister!" you heard. The deep and roaring voice of your brother woke you up from your trance, and you turned around to face him.

You saw a frown upon his face as his eyes narrowed. For a moment you thought he saw how close you were with Aemond, but soon his own words proved you wrong.

"Septa has been waiting for you for an hour!" he scolded you, "why are you still here?"

It took you a while to speak, you knew your voice would come out weak and thin if you dared to utter a word in that moment, which not only would make Cregan be suspicious of what happened, but also would embarrass you in front of the charming prince.

Luckily for you, Aemond decided to step in.

"I was helping her train, my lord, I'm sorry for the disruption I might have caused," you looked down at the steps Aemond had left in the snow, right beside yours.

You were quick and subtle once you purposely stepped on them to erase them. Aemond noticed and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Well, stop your training and go," he demanded, "you might continue tomorrow."

You had no choice but to obey. One last glance was given to Aemond as you bowed to him, saying goodbye. Cregan followed your frame as you entered the castle, and then he turned to look at the prince. Aemond was no fool, he knew Cregan was not ignorant of his intention… he was a man after all, he could see through his facade with no big effort.

However, he did not say anything about it. He just nodded, and then he left leaving Aemond standing alone with the burning desire running down his body.

At first, he planned on just seducing you… but now? Now he will have you. He needed to have you.

That same day, quite late at night, you were found in your chambers, laying on your belly on top of the fur carpet right in front of the warmth of the fireplace. A book was between your hands as your eyes followed the traces of the poetic words that were written in it. The sound of the fire crackling and burning the wood was the only thing you were able to hear until three soft knocks interrupted the quiet calmness of the night.

You barely looked up as you muttered a soft 'come in', turning the page to continue with your reading. The door was opened in a subtle movement that you barely noticed, and soon you heard steps getting close to you.

It wasn't until you were able to see the shoes of that person that you decided to look up, only to find Aemond's grin staring back at you. You immediately sat up, crossing your legs and trying to cover your breasts with the book; the fabric of your nightgown was thin, and you knew that your skin could usually be seen through it if he dared to squint to take a look.

Your body hasn't forgotten about his touch and closeness, and in a certain way it was actually craving for more of that. But you knew it was not proper, you've heard whispers around the castle claiming that he was actually betrothed to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, meaning he already belonged to someone else.

And yet, you couldn't help but to feel the eagerness to touch him.

"My Prince," you said, the shock of seeing him there, sitting on the carpet right beside you was shown in your voice, "what- what are you doing here?"

"I found myself alone and bored in my chambers, so I decided to wander around the castle and the path brought me here… to you," he smiled kindly as he said those last two words. Words that made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turn red, "were you reading?" He asked, pointing at the book that was covering your pebbled nipples.

"Uh… yes," you nodded, shyly, "it's a book about poetry."

"Poetry?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "Mind if I have a look, little wolf?"

You couldn't help but to wildly blush with the pet name, feeling butterflies inside your belly as you pulled the book out of your chest and left it in his hands. Aemond's eyes inevitably went to see your soft breasts covered by a thin white layer of silky fabric, breathing deep and harsh as he felt his cock twitch inside his pants once he managed to see your nipples through it.

He remained calm, even when the only thing he wanted was to rip that gown out of your body and take you right there. Instead, he just sighed as his fingers elegantly turned the pages, reading some extract of the love poems in the book.

"I see you're a romantic person, my Lady," he commented, without taking his eyes off of the pages, "do you consider yourself a fan of the genre?"

"It's something that I enjoy reading, yes," you nodded.

"I had the impression," he confessed, closing the book and leaving it aside, "have you ever been in love?"

You shook your head, "I don't- I don't think so."

"Mhm…" he sighed, "that’s odd, you're a gorgeous lady, one might have thought you had a lot of suitors waiting for you."

"You're too kind," you said, looking retrained for a few seconds.

"I'm just stating the facts, little wolf," he spoke softly, "It seems like your brother likes to scare them away."

"Them?" You asked confused.

"Your suitors," he clarified, "that's the only reasonable explanation of why you are not married yet."

"He just wants the best for me," you defended him.

"And what would that be?"

"A husband who not only sees me as a womb with legs, but also as something precious, something worthy of love and care," your dreamy voice made Aemond smirk, the naiveness in you amused him in so many ways.

"You're asking for too much in a society like this, don't you think?"

You shrugged, "a girl can only dream."

The prince nodded, "and a man can only fulfill those dreams, am I right?" You remained silent, avoiding his heavy and penetrative stare at all cost, "have you ever been this close to a man before?"

"No…"

"I could tell," he chuckled, a sound that buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy, "you were quite nervous when I helped you with your bow this morning."

"I don't feel very comfortable with the proximity of men…" you confessed.

"Of all men, or just of me?"

That's when you realized where this was going, and the panic quickly installed in your gut as you swallowed hard. It took you some time, but you finally noticed his true intentions. You knew you had to stop him before things went further.

"My prince, I'm not quite sure what you mean by those words," you started to stand up, tumbling in your knees, "but it's late and it wouldn't be proper for you to be seen in my chambers, so please-"

Your words were interrupted by the sudden action of Aemond, who pulled you closer until you stranded him, your legs at each side of his body as he forced you to sit on his lap, his hands pressed in your hips firmly, not allowing you to escape from his strong grip.

"I think you know what I mean, my lady…" he whispered, leaning closer to your ear only to mutter with his seductive and raspy voice, "I think you can feel it."

Your breath hitched in your throat at the same time you tried to speak, "I- I don't know…"

"Tell me what you felt when I touched you this morning," he commanded, his hands lowering to your thighs, starting to lift the thin fabric of your gown, "was it similar to what you're feeling right now?"

"I… I don't-"

"I sensed your nervousness when I said how good of a girl you are," he chuckled, starting to breathe in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, "does that arouse you, little wolf? Being praised?"

"Prince Aemond, this is not proper, please-" you tried to pull away, but his grip pushed you down once again. Now you were able to feel his hard-on pressing right down your core, which sent you a sensation that caused chills down your spine.

"That's not what I'm asking you," he spoke sternly, massaging your thighs, squeezing them every now and then, "Mhm… my sweet little wolf, you're shaking. Are you nervous now? You don't have to be, I won't hurt you."

"I told you I do not enjoy this," you breathed out, feeling his hands reaching your hips underneath your gown.

"So you're telling me that if I dare to touch between your legs… I would not find your cunt drenching for me?"

His words made you squirm, the blush running to your cheeks as his thumb started to caress your mons pubis. Your body tensed as you widened your eyes, feeling his finger pressing down.

“I- I don’t- my Prince, please stop-” a small moan interrupted your words as he found your clit between your folds. His thumb rubbing it slowly as you closed your eyes; embarrassed that he was touching such a private part of your body.

“Have you ever been kissed, my lady?” He asked, trying to hold back a groan as he felt your slick coating his digit, “Has someone been lucky enough to be the first to claim your beautiful lips?”

You shook your head, Aemond hummed with delight.

“Then I guess I’ll be the first…”

You barely were able to process his words when he pressed his soft lips against yours. Slow movements that were easy for you to follow without much struggle as you held back whimpers of pleasure, for his thumb was still torturing your pearl in a slow and gentle manner.

Your hand fell on his chest, not with the intention of pushing him away. You grasp his thin blouse, catching the fabric between your trembling hands as you felt the tip of his tongue starting to tease your lips. Hesitantly, your lips parted just a few inches, enough to give him space for him to claim your mouth; swirling his tongue against yours as you tried to keep up with his slow and tempting actions.

He was able to taste your inexperience, the way you would doubt your movements before actually doing them was enough proof for him to know that you were not lying; he was the first man to kiss, which now made him more eager to also become the first man to fuck you.

A gasp escaped your swollen lips when, in a sudden movement, he laid your body in the soft carpet, spreading your legs and placing himself between them. Your nightgown was wrinkled around your hips, exposing your glistening folds to him as he kept playing with your now sensitive clit. Soft mewls were heard as he stopped kissing you in order to taste your skin. You felt the wet caresses of his lips in your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, all while your hands were grasping the fur of the carpet beneath you.

His fingers were soon covered in your juices, your hips trying to move against them in an attempt to feel more, but he pulled them away and you widened your eyes once you saw him licking them and humming after he felt your sweet taste against his tongue. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard him groan.

"My lady, you taste as sweet as you are," he spoke slowly, you blinked a couple times still feeling your mind fuzzy, "do you want a taste?"

You gulped, not entirely sure of what to reply. The words were unable to come out, so all you could was nod.

A careless smile appeared on his face as he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before you realized your legs were on his shoulders and his face buried in your drenching cunt as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure his tongue was providing you.

His slurping was heard, echoing in the room as you tried to push his head away from your pussy, breathing fast and unsteady as he devoured you. You felt his tongue teasing your needy hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, making you moan a bit too loudly. His hands were grabbing your hips tightly, just to make sure you don't escape from him; his fingertips burying in your soft skin as your body writhe under his skilful mouth.

You could feel your own slick slipping down your thigh along with his spit. It was messy, far from being as slow and calm as the kiss he gave you before. He was eager to make you cum; licking, sucking, and fucking your cunt until you were nothing but a moaning mess.

It was over before you even noticed it. With a loud gasp, your eyes rolling and your thighs pressing at each side of Aemond's head, you reached your first orgasm, which finished with you gulping and hiccuping with pleasure. You heard him moaning against your soaking folds, collecting all your slick to then lean over your body.

He took a look at your face, your lips quivering as your cheeks were burning and tinted with a furious red. His fingers reached your chin, and made you open your mouth, which you did without hesitation. His spit fell in your tongue before your glistening eyes closed as you whimpered. You were able to taste yourself in it, the sweetness of your release coating your tongue.

"Swallow it," he commanded, and you quickly obeyed him, "good girl…" he let out a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to feel an unknown heat running down your body. "See? I told you you were sweet, doesn't it taste good?"

You nodded, sighing.

"So good, so delicious…" he leaned to kiss you again as his hands pulled down your gown, freeing your breasts, "I swear it, my lady, I will not rest until your cunt is mine forever."

His big hands left a soft squeeze on your tits before they went to his pants, untying the lace and pulling them down. His leaking cock was now on your sight, hard and reddish. You barely noticed he took off his shirt as you were too hypnotized seeing that specific part of his body. Aemond immediately noticed your curious eyes, and he teasingly grabbed his cock in his hand only to stroke it a few times before letting it on top of your clit.

"Do you want it, my lady?" He whispered, starting to rub himself on you.

You whined, looking down at the obscene scene of his cock parting your puffy lips.

"Do you want my cock to make you feel good?" He groaned, feeling your slick coating his shaft, "I will give it to you if you ask me… Tell me what you want."

You gulped, trying to pronounce pleas.

"Aemond… I- I want…"

"Tell me, my beautiful lady," he muttered, "tell me what you desire."

"I want you… please… it's hurting, I-"

The head of his cock reached your hole and he slowly started to sink in you. Your eyes widened as a soft cry escaped your throat. Your legs closed as you brought them against your chest, and Aemond groaned in disapproval.

"Come on, darling… keep your legs open for me," he cooed, "I want to see your pretty pussy taking my cock."

He held the back of your knees, keeping your legs folded but spread. His cock was buried in your tight cunt as tears of pain started to fall down your cheeks. A loud cry was heard, louder than all of the others, and Aemond was quick to put his hand on top of your mouth.

"Sh, sh…" he whispered, "It's okay, it'll pass. Just relax, my lady, it will feel so good."

He spreaded you open with one push, your back arched as you struggled to take him. He stayed still for a few seconds before his own lust decided that he could not wait any longer. Your walls were squeezing him deliciously as he started to pound against you, groaning and moaning as the pleasure was taking the best of him.

Grasping on the fur beneath you, you started to sob. Aemond saw the signs of pain in your face and he quickly leaned over you in order to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. The feeling that brought you was indescribable, and soon the pain became bearable as his thrusts remained slow but became harder.

Aemond would choke his moans against your tit as his tongue skilfully swirling around it, licking and sucking as he kept fucking you, each thrust going deeper and deeper.

"Fuck…" he sighed, "your pussy is so fucking tight. Made by the Gods just for me."

His words made you drool as the warmth of the fireplace was starting to affect you, making you sweat. His hand left your mouth, now going to play with your swollen and needy clit.

"This little cunt belongs to me now, doesn't it?" he purred against your ear.

"A-Aemond..."

He hummed, "how sweet you sound when you moan my name like that."

"P-please…"

"What is it, my lady?" he teased you, "do you want to cum? Do you want to make a mess on my cock?"

"Y-yes…" you managed to say, choking with your words as he thrusted harder, "Oh, Gods! Yes…"

"That's it, sweet girl…" he praised you, "taking me so well, so good. I'm gonna fill you up, leave you leaking with my cum. Is that what you want?"

"G-Gods… yes, p-please!" you whined.

"Then I guess I have no other choice but to give you what you want…"

A soft chuckle left him as his thrusts became faster. His hips smacking against yours as he gripped your arsecheeks to gain stability. The sound of your slick drenching around his cock echoed in the room as you started to cry out, sobbing with pleasure and begging for more.

Aemond looked at your cunt, and a soft and subtle whine was heard as he saw the way his cock disappeared between your folds. Your pleas would only make him desperate, eager to reach his climax and seeing your abused hole leaking his pearly seed. The image alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside you.

"Fuck, so good… so fucking good," he lifted your hips, pounding restlessly against you as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as his breathing turned unsteady, "such a perfect pussy, squeezing me so fucking good."

You clenched around him, and that was what sent him over the edge, spilling his big loads of cum inside of you at the same time that your release exploded. Your cries were heard even in the hallway, as the intensity of your orgasm took over your shaky body. The feeling of him stuffing you with his seed sent you a shiver down your spine that made you twitch your hips.

Aemond leaned over you to kiss you, pounding lazily as he was coming down from his orgasm. You receive the sloppy kiss as your eyes were closing by themselves, too worn out to keep them open.

But then, Aemond decided to speak.

"Look at you, sweet girl…" he said with an odd tone that you haven't heard from him until now, "what would your big brother say if he saw you now, huh? Filled with my seed, a mess under my touch."

Your breathing stopped for a second and only then you realized what you did. You opened your eyes only to find a smirk on his face, and your heart dropped.

"You probably will be swollen with my bastard in a few months… then what would the people think of you? The Heart of the North carrying the Prince's bastard child…"

"N-no…" you muttered, starting to softly push his chest.

"Mhm, yes…" he scoffed, "unless I take you as my bride, of course."

A shaky breath came out of your nose as tears of despair fell down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivered as your gleaming eyes looked at his.

"W-would you… would you take me as your wife?"

Aemond smirked, starting to pull out of you. He hummed delighted with the view as he saw the pearly drops leaking out of you. He sighed, putting his pants on and fixing his clothes.

"If your brother decides to join his forces with ours, I will take you as my bride and no one will know this happened before our marriage…" he said, standing up and looking down at you. "But, if he decides to join my sister's army…"

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence for you to know the consequences of that. The panic ran down your body as you sat in the carp carpet, covering your nudity with your nightgown and crying.

"How- how am I supposed to-?"

"Cregan Stark will do anything his little sister commands," he interrupts you, taking a few steps towards you to gently grab your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him, "so you better choose the right option, my lady."

He left a caress in your cheek with a smug smile on his face. He abandoned your chambers, letting you there feeling helpless and a bit scared.

It wasn't a big surprise for him when a few days later Lord Stark gave him the good news… and Aemond fulfilled his words, marrying you a month after the North joined the war and helped King Aegon II win the final battle against Rhaenyra.

What was a surprise, was the birth of your first child, a month earlier than what the Maesters expected.

2K notes · View notes

slttygeto · 9 months

Text

don't be so reckless, don't break my heart —MITSUYA T.

synopsis: an argument with your childhood best friend leads to sweet confessions in the middle of the night.

tags: fluff, confessions, childhood best friend! mitsuya, fem!reader, arguments (so, angst if you squint a little), mentions of the reader being in a panicked state, mentions of mitsuya having injuries and bl00d all over him.

word count: 4,2k

note: thank you to the amazing @jean-kirsteins-real-gf for commissioning me! I enjoyed writing this piece a lot :) what a way to start the year! happy 2024 <3!!

Your first meeting with Mitsuya is a memory that is always present in the forefront of your head. It isn’t something that you could easily ignore or brush off, how such a sweet boy who was about your age had a baby to his chest and a kid younger than you both holding his hand so tightly you could see their knuckles turning white. What a rare sight it was, for a boy so young to guide his sister (after you heard her address him as big brother), the gentle tone to his voice, the carefulness when holding the baby to his chest—his kind gesture seals the deal for you.

Shy and scared as a shrinking violet, your teary eyes face away from the two boys who had pushed you off the swing. Young you was never able to speak her mind so bravely, so freely—yet you watch as Mitsuya—(a total stranger at the time), come to your rescue with a baby wrapped closely to him. It is ridiculous the way he fights and scares them off so easily. At first, they mock him for his soft features, for his lavender eyes and for the tiny human being latching onto him. Yet a single kick to one of the boys’ stomach is enough to send chills down your spine. That looks painful, you think.

As you wipe your eyes, you are finally able to look away from the bullies scurrying away with their tails tucked between their legs, facing your knight in shining armor. Your savior. What do you say in such situations? What do you do? You forget to stand up and dust yourself, only realizing your position when your neck starts to hurt from craning it to look up at your hero.

“Are you okay?” he presents a warm hand which you gladly hold, and he pulls you up with so much ease as you wipe away the excess tears on your cheeks. “I’ve seen them around here, never been nice to anyone.” He continues to talk and you continue to give silent nods as a response. At one point, he questions your ability to speak and your face heats up.

“I’m just…”

“Shy?” The slight to his head, the sweet smile—the crush you developed for the boy was all too expected with how nice he was to you.

As the years pass by, the friendship the two of you have developed turned into something that none of you could quite decipher—not that you wanted to. Strangely, you enjoyed the confusion that paints his friends’ faces as you walk up to him, scold him for missing lunch, for not answering your calls—and he doesn’t blush nor does he shy away from returning your hugs, even more passionately than the way you almost tackle him to the ground. His arms have grown stronger than when you were kids, and the way he smells has become so sweet…so intoxicating—you feel dizzy when you pull away from him, unable to look him in the eye for the next 30 seconds as you listen to whatever lame joke Draken has to say about the two of you.

Unbeknownst to you, the boy remembers the day he saw you as though it was yesterday as well. Pretty girl crying on the playground, heart thrumming in his chest when he saw the tears painting your face—he wasn’t in Toman at the time, wasn’t even a thing to begin with. He lies to himself and says that his brotherly instincts kick in when he saw you, that the protectiveness stems from the fact that he would’ve done the same if it were one of his two little sisters. Nevertheless, whatever he was telling his stubborn brain would not go through. He hears you sniffle and helps you up, gives you a tissue to clean yourself and even questions your ability to speak—when you part your lips, your soft voice is what seals the deal for him at the time.

At the time, developing a crush could be from something as simple as saying hi a bit too excitedly or in Mitsuya’s case, the way you had always been nice to other kids on the playground. You weren’t that talkative, but you played with kids on the swing, built sandcastles with them—until those two boys bullied you and the lavender boy knew he had to do something about it.

Watching you grow was a privilege. In Mitsuya’s eyes, having you was perfect. Knowing you, growing with you, embracing you in his arms—you’ve become more beautiful, your eyelashes brush over your cheeks when you blink and your lips pout instead of wobbling when you get sad. Your eyes still hold the same amount of warmth in them as that summer day he met you. You smell as sweet as a jasmine, handle his little sisters as though they are your own, delicate fingers brushing their hair, fixing their bangs, prepping their meals—you treat him and his family with something that feels so special but he would hate to be falsely reading between the lines.

Empathy and kindness have always been one of your traits, you put other people first and although Mitsuya loved it when someone realized just how much of an amazing human being you were, he hated seeing you get taken advantage of. So nice, so sweet—an angel.

You are present when Toman becomes a thing, celebrate alongside the first few members of the biker gang the birth of something so small yet so significant (with a future so big, nobody could ever foresee it). However, violence was never your thing. And so a frown sits heavy on your face whenever you see small scratches on Mitsuya’s face, remind yourself to scold him later for the bruise on his jaw—how would he explain it to his sisters? They’re probably worried sick about him!

“It’s me, can you open up?” it is a rainy summer night, your favorites. You are wearing light pajama pants and a tank top as you approach the entrance door with your heart beating in your throat. At around 11:32PM, soft knocks come to your door. You don’t move from the couch at first. Maybe they’ve mistaken the property for theirs.

Until a second round of knocks come in, and you hear the muffled voice and—wait, you know that voice! As you rush to undo the locks, nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the scene awaiting you.

Mitsuya Takashi was everything yet nothing—a leader, an older brother and a best friend, but when he comes to you so late at night with bruises and cuts all over his face—purple and red knuckles, the bones almost visible, he hisses at the feeling of the alcohol against his wounds. Tears welling up in his eyes, the sniffles--you realize how utterly small and vulnerable he is, sitting on your red couch with legs that would not rest. His limbs shake and his head hurts, you doubt that he has eaten anything all day and he watches as you sigh and rearrange the first aid kit before making your way to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounds harsh, the softness to it no longer there after having yelled so much during yet another one of Toman’s fights. You give no response. You don’t need his apologies, you do not need words right now—however, starting a fight was the last thing on your mind, and clearly not what Mitsuya was able to handle in such state.

“It’s alright,” you say as you make your way back to where he was and place food in front of him. Hot and delicious, the smell alone is enough to make his mouth water and he digs in with no regard to his wounds—you hear him hiss as he pulls the chopsticks away from his lips and for the first time ever, you give a small chuckle.

Mitsuya smiles at this, a little relieved that you weren’t that mad at him. However, he sees the way you sit and face away from him, how your eyes trail longer on the uninteresting, empty road out there rather than his face. This was unlike you. You were never one to avoid eye contact with him, having openly admitted that you find solace in his lavender eyes and his gentle stare. Clearly, something was wrong.

“Are you angry with me?” It is not a surprise that the emotionally intelligent man was able to pick up on the subtle hints you’ve thrown his way about your sour mood, and you suck in your lips for a bit before finally mustering up the courage to face him. Your eyes are tired, a deep frown sitting heavy on your face and painting your features in a darker light than usual. One that has the wounded man’s heart breaking for a bit.

“Only worried,” you want to say more, Mitsuya fixing his posture to look at you encourages you to do so. “Do you have to do this?” you whisper the question so softly, so afraid that someone in the empty apartment beside Mitsuya would hear. You don’t know why you are so afraid of being heard, perhaps because you know you are overstepping into a territory that wasn’t yours—something you’ve never had the chance to experience—Toman, the community, the people in it. They all meant so much to the guy sitting next to you, wouldn’t it be insulting to ask him if he has to put his life on the line for them every time?

Upon hearing those words, a sigh leaves the guy’s lips and you feel like sinking into the couch. Conversing with Mitsuya was easy, it felt natural and smooth—why was this topic so anxiety inducing then?

“You’ve been there… you know, when it all started.” His words serve as a reminder of the day it all started, the joy on everyone’s faces when Mitsuya handed them the old Toman uniforms. You’ve seen it, how dedicated all of them were. You were understanding—but this was too much.

“I have but—Takashi, this is ridiculous,” you turn to face him and Mitsuya’s eyes flicker down to your pouty lips before staring back at your eyes. He hates seeing you so upset.

“I know, I know…” his hand slides towards your own and you feel electricity through your body when you feel his touch, the way his fingers interlace with yours and his thumb brushes over the skin of the back of your hand. “I just have to and plus, kinda needed that beating as warm up.”

“Huh?” you stare at him confused, pushing him to continue.

“Toman’s been involved in something a bit nasty,”

“But you guys are used to nasty, right?” there’s nervousness in your voice.

“Yeah but this is… This is next level,” when Mitsuya leans forward with his elbows on his knees, the serious look on his face almost sends you spiraling.

“Who?”

“Hm?”

“Who are you fighting?” You’re fighting off high levels of anxiety as he keeps you waiting for a few seconds before replying.

“Tenjiku.”

“Tenji—“ you choke on your spit, unable to finish your sentence out of pure shock. “Tenjiku! You are fighting Tenjiku? No, no no no—you’re not,” you’ve grown agitated at the mention of the name of the gang, and Mitsuya suddenly finds himself unable to calm you down as he normally can.

“Hey, it’s okay we’ve got this, we always do—“

“You always do?!” You repeat, before pointing at his state. “Look at you! You’re barely coming back in one piece, think you can fight Tenjiku?”

“Well excuse you, Toman is also very strong.” Takashi also gets up from the couch, your words having too much of an effect on the usually calm and collected man. As he watches you pace around the living room of your apartment, his hands find themselves in front of his body, reaching towards you in a futile attempt of getting you to calm or sit down. But to no avail. It seems as though the mention of such dangerously reputable biker gang sets you off, and the possibility of what might happen to the man if not careful enough sends you spiraling down faster with each short inhale you take.

“That’s—what? A thousand men against a hundred? Don’t be ridiculous Takashi.”

“How am I being ridiculous? You know Toman,” his eyebrows are furrowed and his body stops moving, indicating that your words were starting to get to him personally. “We are strong, we got this.”

“You always come back beaten up and bloody!” you half yell out exasperated. “You don’t got this if most of your body is black and blue by the time a fight is over!”

The tension in the room has grown so thick. It’s unusual given your somewhat stable friendship with the man. Slight disagreements happened here and there over things that you could easily brush off and say ‘yes, I was wrong and you were right,’ or simply ignore it and pretend it never happened. But as your voice gets louder, and you show more and more evidence of how upset you are, it’s clear as day that ‘slight’ wouldn’t describe the situation accurately. You were having a full blown argument with Mitsuya, and it still hasn’t sunk in yet.

Mitsuya can hear his heart beat in his chest, he feels his ears heating up with the amount of negative feelings he was experiencing towards this—towards you being so against Toman winning. Did you really not believe in him? Were you faking being supportive this entire time?

“You know I’m still going to go and fight alongside them, right?” The tone Takashi uses with you is so unusual that you feel your eyes brimming with tears straight away. Cold and indifferent, two things you never thought you could associate with how the man felt for you.

“Well don’t come to my place for me to clean you up. Find someone else.”

“I will.” He doesn’t wait for you to open the door for him, doesn’t say goodnight as he usually does. He doesn’t even slam the door as he leaves. He is cold and distant as he walks further and further away from you, from the argument. Reality sets in and the heavy weight of your words and reactions to his announcement come flashing back like a short movie made to embarrass you, make you feel guilty.

“Fuck.”

“Mitsuya! You’re distracted!” Another punch lands on the lavender hair’s jaw, sending him flying into the ground with a loud thud. Although his injuries aren’t as bad as half of Toman’s, his disorganized state is sending most of his division members into a panicked state. He was never like this.

“Ugh--!” Before he can stand up, he is being kicked repeatedly in the guts until blood spills out of his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to roll over and away from whoever’s attacking him to avoid another harsh blow to his body. He gets on one knee with an arm around his middle, protecting his injuries and he coughs out blood before letting his wobbly legs help him stand up straight.

“Shit—sorry,” his hand wipes at the blood on his lips. He gets into a fighting stance and immediately, the look in his eyes changes into something fiercer, more passionate. He hates that the argument with you is the only thing on his mind. Your words, your tone, even the way you haven’t reached out to him in a couple of days. He hates fighting with you, despises the fact that maybe you were right, and that Tenjiku are beating them up. But one glance at his division members—at Toman, it reminds him that the roars of victory when the fight ends, the tears of joy. The pain in his body could never compare to the happiness and satisfaction of being in this gang, his second family. However, he cannot wait for everything to be over, and for you two to make up.

The universe has a strange way of showing that two people are meant to be. As Mitsuya makes his way back to his apartment, several groans escape his lips as he drags his bloodied and beaten up body up the stairs. He preferred going to yours because there were less stairs but…It looks like it wasn’t an option now. As his hand twists the knob of his door, he is fully prepared to see a mortified baby sitter asking him what exactly had happened—but instead, he sees something else. Or rather someone.

Earlier that night, things were a bit messy for you. Feeling as though you have been punched repeatedly in the guts wasn’t an enjoyable feeling—the nausea amplified by your shallow breathing, your nostrils hurting from the harsh cold air and your throat dry as a desert as your body refuses to swallow, instead sending you into an anxious state as it forgets to let the oxygen into your lungs. You choke as you get away from the window and run to the kitchen to grab some water, you open the tap and let the cold liquid hit your wrists, calm your nerves. You lean against the sink with your elbows propped against the surface and your lips pathetically wobble as tears threaten to spill. You couldn’t handle this anymore.

You were glad that Luna and Mana had gone down to sleep easily, a short story about a princess that wandered around the forest, slipping down a mystery hole into a magical world which she ended up ruling had the girls’ eyes sparkle, yet the tiredness was visible as their under eyes darkened, eyelids heavy and before you knew it—tiny snores resonated through their shared room. You checked on them a couple of times throughout the night, and although the sight of them sleeping so soundly had you place a hand on your chest as muscle memory, your body wanting to show its relief—your brain was running a thousand miles per hour. Takashi—how was he? Would he even make it back? You feel as though you were a bit harsh with him when telling him that you wouldn’t treat his wounds—but his stubbornness, you couldn’t handle it anymore.

There is a crackling noise coming from the fireplace, and you know that the coldness of your body calls for warming up but—but not now, not when Mitsuya wasn’t back home yet, and it was already approaching three in the morning.

As strange as it may seem, the invisible thread connecting the two of you was tugging from both sides and you find yourself staring at the door knob before it starts twisting. When the door swings open and a bloody Mitsuya comes in sight, the first thing that leaves your lips is a defeated “oh” before your feet rush you to the first aid kit you had brought with you from your place.

“What…are you doing here?” Takashi is the first to break the silence as he limps towards the couch. You don’t answer, you gently place him on the cushions before cradling his face in your hands. He doesn’t like the look on your face, how your eyes are brimming with tears and your bottom lip wobbles before you look away to hide the fact that you were very close to bursting into tears.

“I was never going to come.” You admit, but it was obviously a lie. Not with the way you carefully unbutton his uniform top and hand him a bottle of water to keep him hydrated.

“I know,” his voice had gone low, almost ashamed to be in such position.

“Did you at least win?” You whisper as you open the kit and pull out cotton and some disinfectant for his wounds, a bandage for his for his arms and legs. His uniform was ripped, destroyed from being tossed to the ground repeatedly, but the proud smile on his face eases your worries a bit. You miss seeing his lips curl up like that.

“Toman never loses.”

The next few minutes go by in complete silence, with the occasional hiss and groans from the man being treated and your soft apologies. The living room is filled with something so intense, ready to snap at any given moment. When Takashi groans as you press at a certain spot between his ribs, you freeze and look up at him.

“You broke a bone?”

“I figured with how hard I was getting beaten,” he holds his side with a slight wince.

“Takashi…” said man looks down at you, and his eyes soften when he sees that the tears you once held in were finally spilling out. “You’re so reckless, I—you stress me out,” you try to wipe your tears away, but it seems useless. The more tears fall down, the less control you have over your sobs. You are on the verge of a full breakdown and the man sitting before you on the couch can’t help but reach his hands towards you to smooth your hair, push it out of your wet face.

“Hey…hey I’m fine, I’m sorry that I caused you this much stress I just—“

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you cut him off abruptly, moving your hands away from your face and letting him fully cradle your face. “I can’t imagine living without you, Taka,” before your lip could start wobbling again, Takashi’s thumb gently brushes over it and pulls it down.

“You won’t lose me,” he whispers, leaning down to your level. “Ever. I know I get beaten up very often, but I always come back in one piece, don’t I?”

“But what if something happens?” you’re finally letting your worries float to the surface openly. Rather than telling him not to fight like last time, you are now fully admitting that you were anxious about his absence, how much he means to you and how his well being affects your life. “What if—what if you lose, you die and I don’t have you in my life?”

“That wouldn’t be so horrible, hm? I do cause you a lot of stress apparently,” he tries to joke, lift up your mood but you shake your head almost harshly, hands grabbing his wrists.

“I need you with me, in my life. I need you next to me, I wanna be selfish and keep you all to myself, Taka,”

“All to yourself?” His thumb then brushes your cheek, up to your eyebrows before pushing your sweaty strands out of your face. “Sounds like you got something else to say, don’t you?”

His voice isn’t playful, but rather encouraging. His lavender eyes are filled with something so comforting yet so intense. For the first time ever, you feel nervous in his presence.

“That I love you. I’m in love with you, you don’t even know how horrible it feels when I have to treat your cuts and wounds and have to watch you be so careless about something that is so precious to me,” your hands let go of his wrists to cradle his face, mirroring his actions. He melts under your touch, nuzzling into the palm of your hands like a feline craving heat during winter.

“Lucky you, I’d love to have you all to myself too,”

“You do?”

“I do,” he nods and tilts your head up to stare at him. “I have wanted you all to myself for so long, it’s kind of ridiculous. That warm smile,” his other hand traces your lips. “Those gorgeous eyes,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your eyelids. “This pure soul,” his lips then press against your forehead, between your eyebrows. “I’ve wanted you to be all mine for so long, watched myself fall in love with you harder with every moment we spent together. My heart, my soul—they yearned for yours. For your eyes to only stare at me, for those lips to only smile at me—I love you.”

You feel your cheeks heating up with every word, every honeyed sentence leaving his lips like a sweet melody. You can’t bring yourself to say anything in return, not when looking at him seems so difficult, your eyes, chest and whole body feeling hot at the realization that he feels the same.

Takashi was in love with you.

“You made my confession seem so lame,” you break the silence with a sniffle, and your face heats up even more when he starts laughing at your embarrassed state.

“It wasn’t lame at all, my love, my heart is about to burst at your words,”

“Don’t—you’re so comfortable already!” You try to pull away from him when he uses such sweet pet names on you.

“I am the luckiest to be with my best friend, my baby,” he presses his lips against your cheeks with a grin, going in for another kiss when he feels your hot cheeks. “Of course I’d be comfortable.”

Falling for your best friend seemed like the worst possible outcome when you realized you were developing feelings for him, but when he was holding you with so much care and staring at you with such warm eyes—all those worries melted away against the palm of his hand, accepting the love he had for you with open arms and an open heart.

2024: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #tr mitsuya #tr x reader #tr x you #mitsuya tokyo revengers #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya fluff #mitsuya x you #tokrev mitsuya #mitsuya x reader fluff #mitsuya x reader angst

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daenysx · 1 year

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Hi, would you write a modern aemond where he's a virgin and quite shy? ♡ First time with his girlfriend he's a bit ashamed of his inexperience/has performance anxiety and he doesn't last very long, but she's super kind about it and makes him feel comfortable

thanks love ♡

hii! thank you for this request, i've never written aemond as a shy character before but i tried my best, i hope you like it!!

i always think that aemond would love receiving praises and he deserves to know how good he is. in my stories mostly he is the one giving praises but this time i wanted him to be the praised one. ♡

title's from suki waterhouse' lovely song 'good looking'

my masterlist

my good looking boy

you are the first person modern!aemond has sex with. nsfw.

aemond has no idea how good he looks right now.

not good, perfect. such a gorgeous man and he is with you. you know he doesn't usually believe in your words about how good looking he is, how kind and gentle, how perfect for you. he's gotten used to receiving problematic words from his family, he's never felt appreciated enough and you always intend to change his mind.

he should know how perfect he is.

he is just sitting on the couch with wearing nothing but his sweatpants, his back is against the comfy pillows and he has this book he's recently obsessed with in his hands. his pretty hands. he looks concentrated, unaware of your presence as you stand by the door. you take your time, watch him a little bit more and enjoy the sight in front of you.

he lifts his hand to push his hair from his face then reaches for his cup on the coffee table. he takes a sip and you watch how the muscles of his throat move with the act. as he puts the coffee cup back, he looks at the door and sees you.

he smiles so beautifully when he sees you standing there. you approach him, he puts his book aside and opens his arms for you. he always welcomes you with open arms and helps you lay on top of him. he knows you love the comfort you feel with him after a long day, just listening to his heartbeat to acknowledge his presence, feeling he is there for you.

your relationship has started a little while ago, you were just friends before you both realized your feelings for each other. aemond always told you how bad he thinks he is with feelings and relationships but that was okay. you were willing to be the brave one, the one who confessed first, the one who gave the first kiss, the one who first started a hug.

you lift your head enough to kiss him, he parts his lips enough to let your tongue in his mouth. he holds the back of your head securely in his big hand and you keep kissing him until you decide to move further.

you feel him smiling on your lips and you smile back. you've never done anything more, only these intense kisses and touching each other. it felt a bit awkward at first, thinking you were friends before and now that he is your boyfriend. you took your time, waited enough to feel comfortable for something more.

and now, you feel like you're on the edge with how gorgeous your man looks.

he can turn you on without doing anything spesific. fuck, he turns you on just by sitting shirtless and reading a book. you try to settle on his lap more comfortably and he holds your hips while you do that.

you press yourself to his hardness which is inevitable to feel right now and he makes a sound, clearly indicating he was not expecting this.

"sorry." you say, laughing slightly.

he smiles, "that's okay."

"i know we didn't really talked about this but- if it feels weird we can always try later. i just-"

he cuts your rushed words with a simple kiss. "nothing feels weird with you sweetheart. it's- i want to do this with you. but, i think you should know that i've- i've never done that before."

you are a little bit surprised but you don't say it. "that's fine. we can take all the time you want. just-anything you're okay with."

you see his cheeks turn pink and you love the color on him. you can't even describe how lovely he looks, how pretty for you. you give him a comforting smile.

"do you want to go to bed?" he asks, almost whispering.

you nod, take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. he sits on the bed while you stand and looks at you, unsure of what he's supposed to do.

you lean closer to give him a little kiss as you move your hands to take off your clothes. your shirt goes first, then your skirt. he watches you with a starved look on his face. you take off your bra and your panties as he can look at your face only. your clothes make a little pool on the floor and you kneel in front of him.

"can i take this off?" you ask with a smile, your forefinger points his sweatpants. he nods and lifts his hips to help you.

he doesn't wear any underwear.

and he looks gorgeous. the tip of his cock is slightly red, he is hard for you and you can't help but pressing a little kiss to the tip of him. he winces, closes his eye.

"we can do anything you want, however you want. just tell me, my love." you say with a reassuring smile.

"i'd like to be inside you first, but i'm not sure i can last long." he says.

"that's fine. we have all the time in the world. would you like to be on top?"

he thinks for a small moment. "no, i want you on top of me. you'd look so good on top of me."

for a man who never had sex, aemond targaryen surely knows what to say to make you fall for him.

he lays down on bed, extends his hand for you to reach. you sit on his abs, slowly moving on top of him and his cock presses against your backside. your wetness stains his abs and he loves the feeling. he loves the way you kiss his chest when you move, the way you bite his nipple playfully, the way he can hold onto the soft flesh of your thighs.

you are everything he has ever longed for and he is glad that he waited enough to have his first time with you.

"that feels- fuck, that's perfect but i want you, i want to be inside-" he says with an impatient voice.

"do you have any idea how good you look right now? no, you don't. you don't have a little clue about what you do to me just by looking like that. my good looking boy." you say, finally moving closer to his cock.

he moans deeply when you hold him in your hands, adjust yourself on top of him and take him inside you. he loves the feeling of your warmth, your tight muscles clenching around him, and it's perfect. such a lovely feeling, it makes him feel safe, totally unaware of the outside world right now.

you start riding him, taking his hand to stroke your clit at the same time. you guide him first but he is a fast learner, he starts doing it with his own pace now. you arch your waist like a purring cat and he says your name with a desperate voice.

"i'm- too close, i can't stop!"

you nod feverently, "don't stop. never stop."

he rubs your clit harder and your little kiss on his chest makes the final for him. he lifts his hips and comes inside you with a grunt.

you are mesmerised by the way he looks when he comes.

he takes quick breaths, tries to calm himself. your warmth still surrounds him and he realizes you're still waiting for your own peak.

"fuck, i'm sorry. i'm sorry, my love, i should've-"

you shush him as he sits on bed with you on his lap, put a finger on his lips and stop him from talking nonsense.

"that was perfect, aemond. it was supposed to be good for you and you- you don't know how pretty you look when you come. for me it was enough."

he kisses you, he is still inside and you can feel him getting hard. "thank you for being so kind. i love you."

"i love you, too."

"can you let me make it up to you, right now?"

you laugh at his words. "of course."

he smiles too, you lay on your back now as he stays on top, he pulls himself back. "i need you to tell me what you like. i want to learn how you like it, how to make it good for you."

you nod attentively, hold his face and kiss him. you guide his long fingers on your clit. "i like how you touch me here. like this."

he nods, trying to understand the basics of it. you let his hand move and he finds your entrance with his fingers. you guide them inside you. "there's a spot that feels- oh!"

it appears your good looking boy is successful at everything he does. his fingers find your g-spot with the little help from your hips and he presses there.

he moves his fingers inside you, his thumb stays on your clit. "mm-hmm, there. that's so beautiful. you are so good for me."

aemond loves when you praise him, your words are sincere and so sweet. he wants to make you feel good, he wants his touches to make you lose it for him.

he sucks your nipple, and then the other one. you push your body to him, wanting him to keep going.

"like that, just like that!"

it only takes three more thrusts for you to reach to that lovely state. you moan his name, not caring about how loud you are. he feels the pride deep in his heart, smiles broadly and kisses you. you grab his cock when your orgasm hits you and you move your hand fastly to make him come once more.

he pushes his cock to your fist and he is gone after a few moments.

he feels so good, so relaxed. he lays on bed with you on his chest and pulls the covers on you.

you are trying to catch your breath as he rubs circles on your back, your nipples press on his skin and his softened cock rests on his thigh.

you enjoy a few minutes of comfortable silence.

you leave the bed afterwards, go to the bathroom to clean yourself. you grab a towel for him, hand it to him when you go back to his side and let him clean himself.

he looks calm and grounded, his eye closing slowly and you know he wants to sleep with you in bed. you kiss his forehead affectionally, mumbling how perfect he is. you take the used towel from him and put it in washing machine.

you go to kitchen with quick steps after wearing one of his shirts and clean panties. you bring him a cool glass of water and sit on the edge of the bed on his side.

"come on, drink some water my love."

he slowly sips his water, grateful for the care you show him. you hold his hand when he finishes the water in the glass and put the glass on the nightstand.

he opens the covers for you and takes you in his arms. you kiss his neck, wrap your arms around him.

"thank you." he says, and his voice sounds a little shy it makes your heart clench.

"i want you to feel good with me. i like taking care of you, i like making you smile. you deserve all the sweetness i could ever offer."

"i feel the best when i'm with you. i just- i'm not used to it but i love it. pretty words and someone taking care of me." he says.

"that's okay. we have time, remember? you'll get used to all of it, baby."

he kisses you good night then, and you watch him fall asleep, holding you closer and closer.

your good looking boy.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond × reader #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut

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milunalupin · 6 months

Text

— mint to be

remus lupin x reader ★ 1k words

The little bell above the door jingled as the last customer left the bookstore. Remus let out a deep sigh as he looked around at all the picking up and re-sorting he had to do. He went to reach for one of the mint candies by the register he offered to customers, but his hand stopped and brows furrowed as he noticed a few of the candies were missing their wrappers. He picked the bare candies out and tossed them in the bin under the counter before grabbing a new one and popping it in his mouth while he went to get the book cart.

Remus had started working at the bookstore just over a year ago, Mr. Brown being the only shopkeeper in Hogsmeade kind enough to offer him a job with a livable wage. He had always been an avid reader and lover of all literature so it was a match made in heaven. The bookstore was in a quieter corner of the Hogsmeade, standing right across from the town's magical creature research center and rescue. Nothing exciting happened on this side of the village, until he met you.

"Have you got any plans tonight, Remus?"

"No, why do you ask, Sir?"

"Saw your little bird working today, assumed you'd see her once you were done closing up."

Remus' sweater suddenly felt a little too warm, his fingers reaching up to pull at the neckline, as Mr. Brown smirked at him from across the shop. "N-no sir, I'm not."

"You should think about doing that instead of ogling at her all day, eh?" the shopkeeper shook his head and tutted quietly to himself, waving goodbye for the night, leaving his embarrassed employee alone in the bookstore.

Remus was never the most talkative person in the first place, but the moment you walked into Brown's Bookshop, he had suddenly forgotten every word he'd ever read. You had introduced yourself as Mr. Scamander's new apprentice, babbling on about your love for magical creatures, to which Remus could only smile and nod as he tried not to fall in love with you right then and there. You left the shop that day with a few books on your favorite beasts and an admirer.

Remus wishes he had met you back at Hogwarts, where he might've been lucky enough to be partnered with you in a class, or perhaps he would've been brave enough to invite you to one of the parties his friends always hosted. Now he just watches you through the shops windows like a fucking creep. It's not like he didn't want to talk to you, but how could he? Remus sighed at took one more glance out the window before leaving the shop himself, locking up and heading home with a heavy heart.

You froze as soon as you walked into work this morning, golden wrappers scattered across the floor, your eyes squinting in suspicion. You picked up the wrappers on your way to the backroom where the new Niffler rescue was, shoving them in the pocket of your cardigan.

"Hey little guy." you coed softly, picking up the small fluffy creature, and bringing him to your face. He squirmed in your hands, reaching for the corner of plastic sticking out of your pocket. "Are all these wrappers your doing?"

In a second the Niffler was out of your hands and scurrying out he door. You grabbed your wand as well as a small cage and dashed out the door, eyes scanning the cobblestone streets. "Oh you're going to be in so much trouble!"

You caught a flash of blue fur and ran ahead, apologizing to the Hogsmeade patrons you bumped into on the way. Hurrying into the shop, you failed to notice which fine establishment the little troublemaker had led you into, only realizing as reached the front desk as saw one surprised Remus Lupin.

"Hello there, can I help you with anything?" Rosy cheeks and warm eyes greeted you, his big sweater and fluffy hair making him look exceptionally huggable.

"Remus, hi! Yes, it seems that.." your eyes trailed down from the face you've been not-so-discreetly staring at every time you go to work to the wooden bowl next to the register. It was filled with gold wrapped mints with a 'Please take one!' post it note stuck to the side. You felt hot with embarrassment, making a mental note to not give the Niffler extra treats today. "That little-"

Squeak!

The two of your turned to see the blue devil standing on the book cart with his paws on the side of his head is surprise. You cast 'Accio' on the mini beast and made sure the cage was locked once he was inside.

"So he was the wrapper thief, huh." Remus chuckled, coming around to your side of the counter and bending down to look at the Niffler behind his tiny bars, sticking a finger through the gate to pet the creature.

"I'm so sorry for any disturbances and inconveniences he's caused, I owe you one, Remus." you sent him a tight lipped smile and turned to head back to work to save you from any further embarrassment.

"Actually, you would do me a huge favor favor by coming with me to the Three Broomsticks tonight." he suggested, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Really." a surprised laugh left you, your cheeks warming up as he stepped closer to you. "Well, I suppose I could help you out there."

"After I close up I'll come grab you and we'll have a bite and a round of Butterbeers, does that sound alright with you?" his eyebrows went up in question, a shy smile adorning his flushed face.

You agreed and and basically skipped back to work, missing the way Remus fist pumped the air, taking another candy as his reward for finally asking you out.

The niffler tittered in his cage, with you laughing along with him. As you places him back in his enclosure, you could've sworn to Merlin he winked at you.

#marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader

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rainee-da · 5 months

Text

🍀 Lay Down in Their Lap [1]

CHARACTER ❥ Doom 🪞 / Famin 🃏 / Epidem 🍮 / Delisaster 🍾 / Domina Blowelive 💧 / Cell War 💎

W A R N I N G ⚠️ PG-13 and heavy on fluff / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be too OOC for you.

D O O M 🪞

It was later in the afternoon. He just finished his training and was resting up on the nearby bench at the training grounds before you came and suddenly plopped down on his lap.

His whole body tensed up slightly at the sudden contact before relaxing back as he realized that it was just you.

"Tired, my dear? has your day been rough?" he said with a soothing voice as he ran his hand on your hair, a soft smile forming on his lips.

He learned his whole life to predict other people's movements using all his senses, but you never failed to surprise him with your antics.

And it never fails to lighten his day, to bring sunshine to his world that is devoid of pictures.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with each other, with his hand brushing through your locks idly.

As you talk about your day, he listened quietly. Take note of your shift in tone and the quiet thumping of your heart.

He didn't mind doing this for eternity, with you.

F A M I N 🎪

He was in a bad mood as he sulked on the sofa, teeth gritting and eyes twitching. One more flick to his nerves and his place is going to be a bloodbath.

Knowing so, his aides understandably decided to keep their distance.

Not you tho, because you were somehow brave enough to stride to his place with a book in hand and plopped your head on his lap.

"... What do you think you're doing?" he said with a strained voice, punctuating every word. You simply answered him with a shrug as you started reading your book.

His aide is looking from the distance, mortified. One of them is making preparations for a quick mass funeral, just in case.

They instantly passed out in fear as their boss started to move, thinking the massacre was going to happen. They missed the fact that Famin had actually moved to hug you, not to massacre you. Or anybody.

His rage already evaporated into thin air, seeing you on his lap.

Get ready to be in his lap for hours lol. He won't let you go now.

E P I D E M 🍮

"... And the texture is all wrong! It's a blasphemy I assure you. Pudding is supposed to be a soft, silky cuisine and the shop can't even differentiate that with a freakin jelly! Honestly-"

You lay on his lap as you listen to him go on his tangent. Your hand slowly caresses his thighs to soothe him down.

Being his lover, you're used to this kind of temper tantrum it could be worse after all.

In fact, you prefer this to his scientific tangent. You can barely understand the other one after all.

But since he has been going on for more than an hour, you're understandably getting tired and you can feel yourself getting sleepy as your eyes fluttering and closing.

Noticing that you no longer saying anything, he stopped and looked down to check your face.

His face softens, seeing you sleeping on his lap. His body finally eases down and he caresses your cheek gently. His mind is in a state of tranquility.

Though you’re gonna wake up with a bite mark on your cheek lol. It’s just that soft after all.

D E L I S A S T E R 🍾

Everything about it is embarrassing. You're embarrassed, his aide pities you, and his family gives you a strange look, the only one who is not embarrassed is Delisaster.

How could you not be? It's a big, fancy banquet being held by Innocent Zero with so many nobles present. And here you are; laying on one of his son's lap.

And you can't escape either, because his hand is gripping your side tightly while his other hand is sipping some red wine, ready to tickle the hell out of you if you made any attempt to escape.

Too bad he's big into PDA too. More than once did he lowered his head to peck your nose or smooch with your lips. In front of everyone.

"Do you want some?" He offers you his glass of wine casually as if it didn't hit him yet that he's being cringy as hell embarrassing you.

He lets out a hearty laugh every time you pout and whine about being embarrassed, clearly finding it to be amusing.

"Why so shy? you're my bae! N' best bet I'll show it to everyone! Gotta show them to whom you belong, after all~"

Rest in peace, you poor soul...

D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧

It's nearing curfew time. You opened the door of his dorm slowly, making the light from outside permeate through the dark room.

You can see the hunched shadow on the bed jolted in surprise and the light from outside highlighting his face shadow.

"Go away," Domina stated coldly as he lowered his head, and you managed to catch a glimpse of the tear stain on his cheeks.

You didn't say anything. But knowing him, you decided to go against his words and walked to his figure before locking the door.

You startled him as you plopped your head on his lap, burying your face in his stomach while your hand rubbed his lower back gently.

This simple action successfully breaking the dam in the pink-haired man's eye as he started sobbing his heart out.

He started blabbering out his thoughts while his shaky hands hugged your head tightly, sharing the insecurities and the fear he held inside that had been tormenting his soul.

"Please don't go..." he said with a broken voice, as he caressed your face, "I love you... You're all I have... please, promise me to never leave me... Please..."

Both of you ended up sleeping while cuddling together, content smile formed on his sleeping face.

C E L L W A R 💎

"Stop it, I have to go," he whines, trying his best to push you, who is currently nuzzling your face on his stomach, off of his lap, "I have to meet Master, he'll be furious if I'm late!"

You quipped to him that the appointed meeting is still an hour ahead, and he groans in frustration, unable to refute your words.

He knows that the meeting is still an hour away, and it only took him a quarter of an hour to reach the location. Meaning that he had plenty of hours for himself.

But he just can't help to work hard. He wants to please his Master!

"You're such a brat..." he grumbled as his hand moved to pull off the thorn crown on his head, and he leaned back to relax on the bed.

Your sheepish smiles earned you a soft chuckle from him. He stares at you with eyes full of meaning as his hand strokes your hair gently.

He wants you to find someone better, but he can't think of a life without you by his side. For him, you're his oasis. Anything you did seems to bring his dead heart back to life.

'I guess it's okay to relax once in a while... for you.'

Work has been abusing wearing me out and I didn't have too much time to open social media lately so this one will be shorter than the previous one. Honestly can I just be reincarnated as a seal? please please please please-

I also wrote a similar prompt for Walkis Academy students. If you happen to like this one, you might also like the other one! Maybe, I mean, I dunno...

Anyway, thank you for reading! 🍀

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callsign-rogueone · 4 months

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not alone - r.g.

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart’s story. words: 1.8k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers in a vague sense, reader experiencing the joys of RSC, implications of torture but it’s not shown, mild panic attack / anxiety spiral / self-deprecating thoughts, bring tissues maybe, “happy” ending, Ridoc (and Sawyer) to the rescue! I am so stuck on the first-date scene that I just skipped it for now but it will happen eventually, I promise!!

This has to be a dream. It feels like something out of an adventure novel — waking up in a literal dungeon, chained to the wall.

“Rhith?”

You wait a few seconds, but she doesn’t respond. Oh, gods, what if she… no, she’s okay. She has to be okay, because you’re okay. Maybe she’s asleep or off hunting or something.

But she’s never not responded to you before. She’s always replied, always been there to assuage your worries and remind you that it’ll be okay, just breathe.

Breathe. Deep breaths, think about the butterflies… You look up, seeing no trace of them, no flutter of blue wings in the dim mage light of the room that you can’t seem to brighten, either.

You try it again, picturing them more clearly, thinking about the patterns on their wings and the colors… Nothing.

Something is definitely wrong.

Why can’t you make a simple illusion? Is your signet broken? Is that why you’re down here? Is this some kind of reconditioning? A punishment? Or are you here to be executed for being defective?

“Rhith?” you try again, still working to steady your breathing, but every second that passes without a response only tightens the knot around your heart.

There’s no use. She’s not going to respond, because she’s given up on you, finally realized she’d chosen poorly, that you aren’t fit to be a rider after all, and decided to do away with you before the next Threshing, where she could choose a better rider, one who doesn’t need constant reassurance and hand-holding like a child.

The door swings open, a uniformed infantry officer stepping inside, here to decide your fate. He’s fully armed, a short blade in his hand, ready to carve into your skin or to pierce your heart, put you out of your misery — to thin the herd, to separate the wheat from the chaff.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, as if that will change her mind. “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll try harder, I’ll prove to you that I can handle it, just please don’t give up on me, don’t leave me here to die, please…”

He scoffs at you. “Crying already? This is going to be easier than I thought.”

You can’t dry your tears with your hands tied behind your back, so you settle for blinking them away and willing them to stop — you need to be strong if you want to get out of this room alive and see your brother and sister and the rest of your family again.

Family. That’s it — to convince them you’re worth it, you need to be someone else, someone who is worth it, like your brothers.

You’re going to get through this. You’re going to endure whatever they put you through like Garrick would, and do it all with a straight face like Xaden, and be brave like Liam and smart like Brennan, and then Rhith will take you back, and everything will be okay again; you just need to stay strong.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ridoc can’t find you at breakfast— you aren’t sitting with Bodhi and Imogen and the other marked ones like you always do. Maybe you’re sleeping in, he decides. The thought is a small comfort to him, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

He hadn’t seen you all weekend, but that much is normal — he’d spent Saturday afternoon with his friends at the tavern in town, and you aren’t the going-out type; you’d rather curl up with a book to distract yourself from the rest of the world and it’s cruelty.

You hadn’t answered your door when he’d come to extend you the invitation, but he’d just assumed you were elsewhere. And your relationship is new, anyway, new enough that the word relationship probably isn’t the best to describe what the two of you have — you’ve been on two dates. You aren’t going to be spending every hour of your spare time together.

But you aren’t at morning formation either, and as he settles into his usual seat at Battle Brief, you’re still nowhere to be found. There’s no denying it now; this isn’t a series of coincidences, this is a pattern, and something is definitely wrong.

Second squad seems to all realize what’s happening at once.

“I’m sure she’s okay,” Sawyer tries, but Ridoc seems unconvinced, bouncing his leg under the table nervously. His eyes snap toward the door as it creaks open, one person walking through.

You make it up to the back of the lecture hall, settling into the open chair beside Ridoc, your usual spot these days.

Everyone’s eyes widen at the cuts and bruises across your arms and face, knowing there’s likely even more covered by your clothes.

“Are you okay?” Violet asks in a whisper, knowing it’s a stupid question, but wanting to say something anyway.

You nod, chewing your lip. “I’m fine, but I can’t feel Rhith. I don’t know what happened.”

You’ve been trying all morning, had tried all night when they’d finally left you to sleep… you haven’t heard anything from her in two full days, but the infantry officer had let you go free, so you must have passed whatever test they’d given you, decided you were worthy of being a rider after all.

Guilt flickers in Ridoc’s chest - he should have told you, given you some kind of warning. “They did the same thing to us last week. It was something in the water. It’ll wear off soon, I promise.” He holds a hand out, a small icicle forming in his palm that he wraps in a piece of soft fabric. “Here.”

You take it from him, holding it to the killer bruise forming on your jaw from where the officer’s fist had nearly broken it. “Thank you.”

You’re exhausted. You’d barely had enough time to shower before class started, and you’re pretty sure you’re concussed; it’s hard to think, and everything is too bright in here, too loud…

You turn your gaze back to the professor, but don’t take any notes, don’t make any move to take a pen and paper from your bag, letting your eyes fall shut as Devera continues her analysis. It goes in one ear, out the other, but you know none of it is true anyway, or if it is, it’s only half the story.

The ice is starting to melt against the warmth of your skin, dripping down your wrist. He takes it back, letting it disappear into thin air and pocketing the wet handkerchief silently, resting an arm on the back of your chair and pressing a soft kiss to your bruised temple.

You blink awake at the sound of everyone getting up to leave — you must have gotten almost an hour of sleep. It’s taken some of the edge off, but your entire body still aches as you rise from your seat.

“Aotrom says she’s on the flight field,” Ridoc says, shouldering your bag before you can protest. “Do you wanna go see her?”

You just nod in response, your jaw still aching too much to speak. You make the walk up in silence, your heart clenching when you see Rhith standing there, waiting for you.

The comforting voice is finally back in your head. “Hello, sweet one.”

“Hi,” you say aloud, voice wavering.

She lowers her head to you, letting you stroke a hand over the dark green scales of her nose. “I would never want to replace you, sweet one. You are just as strong and just as valuable as your brothers, and I chose you for a reason.”

You realize that she’d heard it all, your desperate pleas for her to spare your life, the promises that you’d be better, thinking she’d abandoned you…

“I’m sorry for thinking that, I just… my signet stopped working, and I couldn’t hear you…” you’re going to cry just thinking about it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she soothes. “Try it again.”

You take a breath and close your eyes, picturing a butterfly. When you open them, you can see one floating through the gentle afternoon breeze. You add another, just to be sure that it wasn’t a fluke, and another… three of them now, content to flutter around in front of you.

Ridoc is still watching you, silent. The look of relief on your face breaks his heart.

He realizes that by separating you from Rhith, they’d taken away your only friend in that room. He’d had Rhiannon and Violet and Sawyer by his side the whole time, but you’d been entirely alone; no marked ones, nobody from your squad — you’re the only second-year left. They’d taken your best coping mechanism as well, your ability to self-soothe with your gentle projections.

Rhith looks up at Ridoc, who stands a respectful distance away, your bookbag slung over his shoulder. “She says thank you,” you relay for her, “for taking care of me.”

Ridoc smiles. “Always, sweetheart. Now let's get you to the healers, hm?”

He holds out a hand, and you hesitate a moment before you take it, intertwining your fingers loosely. His skin is warm against yours, soft, gentle, safe. When you make it down the hill and across the bridge to the infirmary, you almost don’t want to let go.

You stay as close to Ridoc as you can for the rest of the day. He treats you incredibly carefully, even after you’ve been mended back to normal, the cuts healed and bruises faded completely.

You’re grateful to wake up in your own bed the next morning, silently getting ready for the day and falling into your place at morning formation.

“Atken,” Dain calls, gesturing for you to come see him. “You’re being transferred.”

What? Why? Your heart races, but you follow him silently, stopping in front of a different squad, in Fourth Wing.

“I think you already know most of your squadmates,” he prompts.

You take a good look at them — nearly all of your friends; Imogen and Sloane and Violet, and now Ridoc and his friends too. You might cry. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

“Don’t thank me, thank those two. They made quite the argument for transferring you.” He nods toward Ridoc and Sawyer — they both smile at you, Ridoc grinning from ear to ear, Sawyer looking rather bashful.

“So you won’t have to be alone anymore,” Ridoc answers before you can ask.

You fall into the formation beside him, reaching over to hook your pinky around his in a tiny show of appreciation. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you, warm and bright, keeping your fingers interlocked through the morning roll and announcements.

Maybe your second year won’t be so bad anymore.

#ridoc and sweetheart #ridoc gamlyn x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #ridoc gamlyn

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anymoon19 · 2 months

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how they met

I brought you a story that I made a while ago and I really wanted to share, I hope you like it and my requests are open

⸻⸻⸻꧁❤❤❤❤꧂⸺⸺⸺⸺

I saw that Vi always felt something for you, even if she couldn't name what it was. Whether it was wanting to get your attention, finding excuses to touch you, or even hugging you for no reason.

But when she saw two women together, romantically speaking, she realized it was the same way you treated each other. The affection, the attention, and the looks. That's when Vi realized she was hopelessly in love with you.

Vi wasn't usually affectionate, only with Vander or Powder, and that was just because they were family.

You met when she was 15 years old, and since then, you never parted ways. You always found her beautiful, that rough and authoritative demeanor always attracted you, and over time, Vi began to notice it too.

That's when the flirting started, initially simple compliments, hands on shoulders or hips. But it evolved, what used to be a simple hand on the hip turned into a constant hand on your waist or the back pocket of your pants, the innocent compliments turned into increasingly bold and direct pick-up lines, the light hugs turned into long minutes of her holding you in her arms or keeping you close.

At first, it intimidated you because, even though you liked her, Vi was still intimidating and brave, and you weren't used to that kind of attention.

Even though Vi was sure of her own feelings, she wasn't sure about yours, heck, she didn't even know if you liked women. She decided to observe you, spend more time with you, even if sometimes Powder got in the way a bit.

A few weeks before that night, Vi had confessed her feelings to you, she couldn't stand not having you to herself anymore and decided to take a chance.

It was perfect, your relationship had never been better, the kisses you shared, the hugs you gave, and the love you felt were out of this world. Vi had never felt anything so intense in her life, and being with you like that seemed like a dream she never wanted to wake up from.

When everything went wrong, all your friends died, and Vi had disappeared, your world fell apart. You had begged her so much to forget that, and now you had lost her, your heart was shattered, and seeing what Powder was becoming only made the situation worse. In one of the attempts to make Powder, now Jinx, return to normal, you almost ended up dead from a fit of your former friend. Taking shelter with Ekko in his base, you decided to focus on caring for the wounded and warriors instead of going on missions.

Eight years had passed, and even while distracting yourself, you still found yourself thinking about Vi. What you felt for her you would never feel for anyone else, and the thought that you never would again bothered you. You often speculated where she could be. Unlike the others, her body was never found. The thought that she might have escaped and left you bothered your subconscious, but you quickly corrected yourself. Vi would never abandon you, never abandon Powder. But as each day, week, month, and year passed, that thought solidified in your mind, making you wish she had died in the accident rather than thinking she had left you.

However, when you saw her, standing right in front of you next to a Piltover officer, your world stopped. She was taller than you remembered and more muscular too. Aside from the new tattoos and haircut, she was the same Vi you remembered. Your body started trembling when she turned to you and froze in place, those beautiful blue eyes looking at you with guilt and longing, making the hurt in your chest grow.

You slowly approached, afraid she might disappear with a simple breath. Vi stood there, immobilized, waiting for some action or move from you. As you got close enough, you slapped her face, making her head turn to the side, and her cheek turned red.

"Why did you do this? Why did you abandon us?" Tears were falling from your eyes as you spoke those words, cutting your throat like glass and burning your insides with anger and resentment.

"I didn't abandon you," she whispered, finally looking into your eyes, letting her own tears form.

This reaction was far from what Vi expected from you, not due to your gentle and loving nature, of course. She didn't expect everything to go back to how it was before, but still, she thought at least you would welcome her with the love you once had.

"Lies!" you shouted with tears streaming down your face, "You left, you left me..." covering your face, "Why did you do this?"

Your words broke Vi's heart. Seeing you like this was like a stab in the chest. "I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't stop it..." she allowed herself to cry, making everyone around look shocked. "They caught me, S/n, they threw me in prison for the theft we committed before all this happened." Vi approached, lifting your face to her. "Not a single day went by without me dreaming of coming back home, back to you, thinking that when I finally had you, everything was taken from me."

The anger dissipated, giving way to a painful longing. You collapsed into Vi's arms, crying loudly against her chest, feeling her arms tighten around you. All the pain, longing, and nostalgia were in that hug. Your sobs were muffled by Vi's jacket as she hid her face in your hair, the tears streaming silently down her face as she tightened her embrace to the point of pain.

"I'm so sorry," Vi whispered repeatedly in your ear, sobbing quietly while holding you in her arms.

You stayed like that for a while, not knowing if it was hours or minutes, just wanting to stay in each other's arms and try to make up for the time that was taken from you.

When you separated, Caitlyn approached to check if you were okay. She introduced herself and explained her relationship with Vi and was happy to meet you.

It was difficult, but you both managed to establish yourselves. After all, your love had never faded, and the time you spent apart only intensified that feeling. It wasn't perfect, because nothing is perfect, but you loved each other and were willing to make the relationship work.

#vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #vi arcane #vixreader #lesbian #queer

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ghostfacesvalentine · 1 year

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HALLOWEEN DAY 2: Too scary - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of scary movies, trauma, blood, gore, etc. Nothing too graphic

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Turns out the movie was too terrifying for little Y/N to handle, therefore it’s their job to comfort you.

Notes: Let’s see how long I can keep this up.

Jason Voorhees: At first he wouldn’t notice, mostly focused on the movie and the candy he’s stuffing his face with. When you’d shuffle around, when he’d notice the constant movement, then he’d take a look at you only to find you with your knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It’d take a moment for him to register that your stomach was turning at the imagery. Once he would, Jason would instantly coop you up into his arms and keep you in a tiny ball, doing his best to protect you from your thoughts.

Michael Myers: He can smell fear, he’s always been exposed to fear all around him, it’s like second nature to him. When he realizes you’re afraid of the movie, he turns over to stare at you for a moment, which makes you even more uneasy. Thinking Michael looks at you like you’re a big baby, you decide to just cross your arms and brave through the rest of the film. Of course, failing miserably. Michael would force you into his arms, letting you kind of flop into his arms and situate yourself however you wanted.

Tiffany Valentine: She loves horror movies, it’s one of the things that could keep her occupied. While your stomach twists at the imagery and blood splatter on the screen, Tiffany seems mesmerized by it, not paying much attention to your squeamish reaction. Once you’re both done with the movie, she’d turn to you asking “So, how’d you like it?” Only to see you near traumatized. “Y/N!” Tiffany would wrap her arms around your face and bring you into her chest, pressing you into a hug. “Was that too scary? Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Of course she’d make it up to you, with much affection and endearment.

Billy Loomis: Doesn’t even notice at first how uncomfortable you are, no matter how much you nuzzle into him. A few flinches in, he’d look down to you to make sure you were awake, but to see you near in tears would cause him to stop the movie. “Y/N? You okay? We can stop watching this, I just thought you’d like to see it with me.” He knew better than to keep it playing when you’d tell him you were fine. “No, I mean, it’s kinda lame anyway, here’s the remote, find something better. I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Then he’d come back, lay into the arm rest and bring you down with him, making sure you were cuddled into the blanket on the couch.

Stu Macher: What a dumbass, he wouldn’t really notice at all if you were crying or looking away from the screen too much. He’s “in the moment” with the gory scenes. After the movie, Stu would ask you how you’d like it only to see hot tears streaming down your cheeks. He’d laugh a little bit at how scared you looked, but then would give you the tightest hug. Stu would hold you tightly enough to give you some troubles breathing regularly, letting you put on some cartoons to forget the imagery. Will this happen again? Absolutely.

Patrick Bateman: Ok, he’s probably the worst of them all. Patrick watches snuff films and all kinds of gruesome films for fun. When you brought it up to his attention, he was more than happy to show you what he liked and explain to you the different methods of torture and what part inflicted the most pain. Even if you’d throw up, Patrick would keep the film going, mesmerized by the screams telling you “It’s actually not that bad.” But he’d let you hide into his arm, clenching onto it as you did so, but there was no way to hide from the terrorizing screams and Patrick's chuckle throughout it.

Leatherface: Honestly always checking up on you through every scene. Bubba doesn’t even want you to watch the scary films, he would think you were too pure for them, ironically. If you insisted though, he’d let you, holding you close to him and giving you space to hide if you needed to look away, which seemed to be often. Bubba would be ready to turn off the screen at any moment, one arm wrapped around you and the other one with the finger on the off button. He too would let you watch cartoons with him after. Bubba would offer you your favorite junk food or candy and let you snuggle into him while you laugh at the new pictures on the screen.

Harley Quinn: Is SUPER into horror. Laughs at the screams and blood splatter “Y/N! Y/N! Did ya see that? Did ya see it?! Let me rewind it.” Harleys a bit clueless when it comes to seeing your discomfort at first, but then when she notices you keep flinching or looking away, her expression immediately changes. “Oh my god Y/N? Are you afraid of this? You shoulda said something pumpkin’!” Immediately cuddles you and keeps you close to her chest, changing the channel to a Disney movie. Harley would be THE best at comforting you, squeezing the near life out of you to keep you comfortable and your mind off of things. Lots of comfort food, honestly.

Poison Ivy: Isn’t necessarily obsessed with horror movies and gore, not very interested in it either but she doesn’t mind playing the exorcist for background noise. If you’re not obviously telling her that you’re scared or you want to play something else, she would pick up on how you would react. Flinching at certain moments in the movie, looking away from the screen constantly, all things Pamela would notice, putting two and two together, she’d turn off the TV, telling you simply “What a trashy movie, let’s go play.” And would lead you into the bedroom for some TLC. Pamela’s love language would be physical touch and she would make sure you would get enough of it to fall asleep to. She’d make a mental note to stay away from horror movies with you.

Bruce Wayne: Never was really big with horror movies to begin with. Bruce grew up with musicals and operas, he was cultured in filmmaking, but horror never really made a mark in his interests, mainly because of the real life horrors he had to face already. Of course Bruce picks up on everything, noticing your reluctance in watching any more of this movie, he decides to nuzzle you into him, not saying a word and changing the channel, or taking your hand to lead you out of the theater. After all, Bruce knew what it felt like to be afraid. Expect a ton of tender touches and soft kisses.

Jason Todd: Sweetest energy tbh. Whether your watching a scary movie as a group or together, his reaction would be similar in both scenarios. As soon as he’d feel your palm in a cold sweat he’d look for your reaction, even if you try to brave through it, Jason would pull your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. ‘What a bullshit ass movie.” He’d mumble while subconsciously caressing the back of your head. “You’re being brave dollface, but you don’t have to be.” He’d whisper to you and give you a squeeze. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Billy Hargrove: Notices instantly, but wouldn’t want to call you out on it. Instead he would also pull a stunt like Pamela. Telling you “This is kinda tacky, let’s leave.” And would lead you out of the movie theater, turn off the TV or leave whatever house party you were at. He’d make sure to never let you go, holding your hand, keeping his arm around your waist as usual, always being protective of you. Billy would make you feel safe enough to tell him what happened and what was wrong and why. He’d actually listen to you, being quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, then comfort you by telling you “That’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, I had a few movies that scared the daylights out of me, but you know I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

Steve Harrington: Knows from the start that you don’t like horror movies, he doesn’t either but he can stomach a lot more than you can. Steve was kind of taken a back when you insisted that it would be fine to have a movie night with your friends even though they planned a horror marathon. When the kill scenes would get severely worse as the movie progresses, you’d get more uncomfortable and at this point it seemed like an unspoken competition to see who could stomach more gore, you or Steve. Still, when you’d take a nap, shifting and shuffling around in the blankets, he’d know the movie maybe actually got to you. Steve would hug you tightly, caress your face when you’d drift in and out of sleep.

Steve Rogers: Would be such a big time caregiver energy. When you’d hide your face away in certain scenes, Steve would notice instantly, hugging you closely through the scene. If you kept showing discomfort, Steve would take you from the room, not offering an explanation to anyone. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go do something else” He never really understood the concept or horror movies, nor the appeal, so it wasn’t like he was missing out on anything. Steve would pick you up, letting you hide into his chest or his neck. He’d kiss your head, cheek and neck constantly, slow and full of love. “Come on angel, let’s watch something else.” He’d turn on the TV letting you chose any cartoon movie you’d be in the mood to watch.

Bucky Barnes: Also with Steve energy, he’d let you hide into him. He kind of understood the concept of the horror movies, even liked a couple but not to the extent those around you both would like. His heart melts when he sees you pout and avoiding looking at the screen. Closing your eyes waiting for the screaming to stop, Bucky would want nothing more than to reach over and pull you onto him, letting you hide into him and tell you everything was okay and it was only a movie. When the movie would be over, he’d check up on you, making sure you weren’t still thinking of it, which more than likely you were and he wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you, letting you curl into his body, being three times your size and keeping you safe from whatever horror you saw today.

Wanda Maximoff: She would notice it the second scene in, the minute you hesitated to agree on a horror marathon with the team, she knew maybe you were a little bit more of a baby than she initially thought. She’d play it off with you as well, telling the team the movie seemed boring and that she just wanted to go to bed, she was tired. When the others would dismiss her, not paying much attention, she would look at you, who stayed sitting in silence. “Y/N? Are you okay? You keep nodding off, come join me, let’s get you to bed.” Wanda would be your saving grace and of course she would let you sleep in her bed, keeping you comfortable and safe in her pillow fortress and arms.

Loki Laufeyson: He’d always notice any sort of discomfort in you, knowing that you weren’t able to stomach much of the gory scenes but a part of him wanted to see how much you were able to handle. Loki would sit where he was able to look at you with just a flicker of his eyelids in your direction. When you’d all have a movie night, Loki would be the one to agree to watch something gruesome just to see you squirm in your seat. When it would be too much to handle for you and you’d have to excuse yourself, Loki would come to your aid when he would pass by your room to see you sitting on the corner, hugging yourself trying to erase the imagery out of your head by watching your favorite comfort films. “Y/N? How are you doing?”

Cloud Strife: He’s not very fazed by horror movies or anything of that sort, but if he feels you hide against him again throughout the movie, he would let you. He’d hesitate to put his arm around you, but if you snuggle into it, he’d squeeze you in. Because this seemed to be very unlike Cloud, snuggling into his torso would be the most comforting thing. Cloud would let you sleep with him if you admitted you were scared, letting you snuggle in under the covers with him, he’d drape an arm over you and keep you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Aerith Gainsborough: Not terribly interested in horror movies, but would watch a few just to spend some time. Aerith has quite the strong stomach compared to you and the rest of your friends. She could sit there and watch a full marathon with you guys no problem, but if you couldn’t handle it, she’d understand and take a walk with you, picking flowers for you on the sidewalk as she would try to distract you from the imagery from before. Her smile surely would help, Aerith would be the perfect person to comfort you for something that seems as silly as a horror movie.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’d seen it all, fear is not something he was very familiar in feeling, but he knew it came as second nature to the human species. If you were afraid of a movie or show, he’d find it amusing to see you worked up over false imagery when he had seen much worse, all real as well. Sebastian would still excel in his duty to comfort you, assuring you there was nothing to fear, since he would never let anything hurt you. Being cared for by him in this way did help, you knew he meant it and it was silly for you to worry about anything that was plastered across a screen.

Spencer Reid: Would be so wholesome, he had seen so much gruesome scenes, often inspiring many of the plots of movies you two were watching, but he knew to spare you the details. When Spencer heard you wanted to see a horror movie with him, he was surprised, letting you decide which one, but when it was too much for you, he knew right when to stop it and ask you if you were okay, not wanting to have you get nightmares for the next week straight. Spencer would soothe you, holding you close to him, letting you lay down onto him and snuggle under a blanket. He’d play something more wholesome, maybe a Disney classic in the background or some sort of comedy to keep your mind off the previous imagery.

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