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#nothing can replace them in my heart
chorrianderr · 2 years
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Why would you make me fall in love so deeply with something that you know will never be true...
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scripted-notions · 2 years
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parent: shoves soap in my whole mouth for "talking back"*
parent: why can't u brush ur teeth n don't like things in ur mouth
*I to this day as a whole ass adult have no understanding of what the fuck I was ever punished for when I was punished for talking back. that's code for ur autistic and I don't understand you but that makes me feel bad so ur in trouble. btw this will forever impact ur ability to hold conversations :)
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oreo-creampie · 9 months
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𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲-𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: they are your ex hubby and baby daddy and they want you back, make up sex, monster fucking with true form!sukuna - why let something like logic stop me from being horny when we can have the king of curses for a baby daddy, jealous!possessive!Satoru, sukuna isn’t jealous but crashed your date with pride, daddy/mama/princess, praise/praising degradation/mocking/teasing/light humiliation/embarrassment, squirting, manhandling, choking, smacking, satoru uses a clone, jerking off, pain kink, pussy slapping, vibrator, forced quick orgasm, overstimulation, Toji is doing his best to sweet talk you
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Toji being your hot ex-husband who comes over Gumi every week and trying to fuck you as well
Oreo: in my quest to answer old asks here we are! Thank you for waiting anon if you did, if you didn’t I hope this reaches you one day! 🫶🏽
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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
He turns on your small vibrator, climbing onto your bed. Staring down at you with stunning forest green eyes. “This is what you got to replace me?” You hate how much you love the sight of his massive chest, cocky smirk and thick thighs.
Toji’s cock hangs and lightly sways as he comes closer. You want to him to stretch you out and fill you up. Make you his dumb cock drunk mess who only whines for more.
Ignoring your better judgment to kick your ex back out. You spread your legs, showing Toji how wet your soft cunt is for him. “It makes me cum without bein’ an cold hearted asshole.” You voice isn’t firm like you want. It’s trembling from four months of pent up frustration meeting your desperate anticipation.
The smirk in his face drops a little. “Deserved that.” His smirk softens to a charming smile. “Lemme make it up to ya mama.” He spits on your clit, stroking you with the pulsing toy. Nudging your soft wet cunt with two thick fingers slowly gliding them in.
“I been missing seeing your sweet cunt stretch for me. You feel so soft, wet n’ warm wanna feel ya cumming on my cock. Nothing else gets me off like seeing you soak my cock.” Stroking your sweet spot, focusing on you making you cum quickly.
Closing your eyes moaning, clenching his thick fingers, digging your heels into the bed. You’re lost in the immense relief, muffling your moans with your hand.
Toji pouts, “Look at me beautiful lil mama.” Pumping his fingers faster, adding more pressure to your clit with the toy.
“Let’s make a bet, if I make you cum harder with your toy then you can I win.” The pleasure is intense with the toy pulsing on your soft clit and his fingers working magic. He isn’t playing fair, using his knowledge of your body against you.
Whimpering, “Just tell me you need money.” He’s gaze is too intense, closing your eyes. Biting your lip trying to muffle your cries refusing to give Toji more satisfaction.
Keeping his pace steady, coaxing you towards cumming on his fingers. “I do want money but not from you. What I need is for ya to look at me. Wanna see the look in beautiful eyes when you cum.”
His cheeks flush pink, dripping his voice low whining. “Please.” It shoves you over the edge. Your soaking wet, sensitive cunt spasms, the vibrations on your sensitive clit becoming too much.
“Since I’m winning I wanna take ya out to dinner.” Biting your soft tight, the sweet pain adding at the intense pleasure. “I missed ya sweet tits, squishy thighs, soft stomach, and soaking wet cunt.”
You already came, you couldn't, not again so quickly. Yet you’re quivering, eyes watering, your moans getting louder. Toji muffles your cry with his lips
Rentlessly fucking your sensitive, sloppy wet cunt in a squirting mess, soaking the bed. He doesn't stop, fucking you through your high.
It’s too much yet you want more. You want to feel Toji’s thick cock twitching, his veins pulse seconds before he cums in you. Tears trickle down the side of your face.
Toji breaks away, smirking, “You’re so breathtaking tremblin’ n’ nearly crying cause the pleasure is too much. I've barely done anything and your soaking the bed. Shows how badly she needs me.” He sits up, turning the toy off tossing it aside.
Grabbing himself slapping your cunt with his heavy cock. Jerking your hips back, reflexivly trying to close your legs to escape the overstimulating stinging slaps. He croons, “Is it too much for your poor little cunt?” Dragging himself himself between your lips, running away when he nudges your sensitive clit.
Whimpering, “Yes but I want more, please daddy fuck me with your fat cock.” He flips you over, putting your ass up in the air. Lining himself up, gliding just his fat tip admiring how you stretch to take him. “Or should I call it mine?” You can't wait any long, pushing your hips back taking his cock.
“Nnn fuck that’s it mama fuck yourself with my cock. How good does it feel? Does it make you feel like a whore to fuck yourself like this? Using my cock like a toy.” He groans, it's a deep sound you’ve been missing.
He grabs your hips, meeting your hips with a harsh thrust. Stroking your sweet spot making your eyes roll back. He leans over you, pinning you down with some of his weight.
You’re clawing at the sheets unable to run away. “Come on lil’ mama give me another chance.”
𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
He’s in the shirtless. You want to fondle, squeeze, and bite his thick chest. Let your hands wonder down his beautifully sculpted body. You could dig your nails into his broad shoulders, spread your legs and take best cock you've had again.
You know how pleasurable it’s to be underneath and on top of him. Which makes not touching him for the past few months even worse. Finding someone that does it like Satoru is impossible.
“Got my shirt going in the washer with some of your clothes. Ya mind if I crash here for the night? It’s gonna be late by the time it’s dry.” Your brain freezes, and you’re thinking only with your cunt.
You’re caught, weakly snapping, “Fuck you for being hot.” You’re missing his warm, large hands groping your body, fingering your cunt. His soft warm lips peppering kisses like he’s worshiping you.
Satoru's pecs are fuller, and his arms are thicker, with two extra veins running down his forearms. When did he get this big?
He croons, “Careful sweetheart.” Grabbing the top of the doorway, filling it up, showing his size off, smirking. “If your date from last they knew how badly you want to fuck your hot baby daddy what would they think?” You’re stuck on his happy trail dipping into his jeans.
He hooks his thumb into his jeans. You rip your gaze away, cheeks burning, your cunt soaking your panties. "It was a second date so it’s none of their concern.” He steps closer, dipping his head down.
Leaning your head back, closing your eyes. “It’s not serious yet then good.” Opening your eyes, your body engulf by heat. The cocky smirk on his lips is infuriating.
He walks past you, standing in your bedroom door. “Why do you think you can help yourself to my room?” He turns around, his expression is cold, angry. It shouldn’t make you so horny.
Is he jealous?
He motions with two fingers, “Tonight it’s our room ya can fuck me for being irritatingly hot and I’ll show you who is better.” You follow him into your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind.
You suggest, “N’ if you fail to be better in bed?” Another Satoru grabs your hair from behind shoving you towards the original.
Nudging your lips with his thick fingers, gagging you when you part your lips. “Thank fucking god these walls are proofed imma make you moan my name like a prayer. I’m gonna have you cry out calling me god and worshipin’ my cock by the time were done.” Squeezing your neck, grabbing your tongue pulling out out to spit on it.
Stuffing your tongue back in with his long fingers. He unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down with his underwear, getting out his long, veiny cock.
Gliding his fingers out of your mouth, Satoru smears his spit on his cock. You wrap your fingers around him, smear his pre-cum with your thumb. Swirling your fist sliding your hand down his cock.
The clones lifts you off the ground, lining his cock up with your soft lips. Rocking his hips, grinding his warm, hard cock along your soft lips, softly stroking your sensitive clit.
Satoru loosens his grasp around your neck. “Stupid beautiful slut you brought him back here fucked him in what was our bedroom.” The clone Satoru pulls you back by your hips to meet his thrust. “Like your cunt doesn’t belong to me.” He grabs your thighs spreading you in a mating press.
Satoru groans at the sight your soft wet cunt taking his clone’s cock. “You wore this dress for him too.” He rips the front, smirking. He slips his blindfold off, tossing it on the bed. His eyes are cold, hard with intense jealousy you’ve never seen before.
You can’t glare up at him for ripping your dress. Unable to get mad with his cock stirring your guts up with each merciless, quick, deep stroke. He’s fucking a confession out of you. “Got it with you in mind. Knew it was something you liked to see on me.”
“It’s something I love seeing on you. It looks so much better like this, ripped with it bunched around your hips for you to take my cock.” You can’t focus on stroking his cock anymore. You’re too lost in the sweet pleasure of your needy, wet cunt stretching to take his long cock with it’s toe curling thickness.
Letting your thighs go when the clones grabs your thighs. He sits down, man spreading, spitting into his palm stroking himself. “Tell me lil baby mama whose fucking your sweet cunt in a sloppy wet mess?”
𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
Glancing Sukuna’s lips, he grabs your neck pulling you in close. His lips are so soft despite the roughness in his passionate hungry kiss. Slipping his hand up your dress squeezing your thigh digging in his nails. He slips his tongue in when you whine.
Dragging his nails up your thigh, squeezing your ass, lifting you off your feet. You wrap your legs around his waist. Desperately trying to keep from moaning into Sukuna’s hungry passionate kiss.
He’s hands and lips feel better than you recall, better then when you touch yourself at night. You missed his cocks, his deep groans, all four of his large hands fondling, restraining and playing with your fragile body pushing you to the point of breaking.
Carrying you through the hallway, closing the door locking it behind himself. Pinning you to the wall, dragging his nails up your thighs, fondling your ass.
He breaks the kiss, yanking your head aside by your hair. Biting your neck, you moan from the sweet pain. Using the second you steady to croon, “Aw you jealous Sukuna? Chased my date off.”
Rolling his crimson eyes Sukuna scoffs, “He isn’t enough for ya lil mama. And by the way you were undressing me from across the room I didn’t think you would mind.” His lips stretch into a cocky smirk that makes your cunt throb.
“You’re suck a rude slut with a broken lil cunt that craves both my cocks.” You want to sit on his face and cum till you’re trembling.
You plead with Sukuna, “Can you please?” Trailing kisses along his jawline, dragging your nails along his scalp. You bite his neck, he tilts his head to the side biting into his bottom lip. He moans from you sucking on the soft spot on his neck.
Stepping away from the wall, tugging you off his body dropping you onto your bed. He demands, “Say your a whore who thinks whose greedy lol cunt loves my monster cocks n’ I’ll fuck you stupid.”
Dragging his fingers along the inside of your thigh stopping shy of your cunt. Waiting for you to admit, “I’m your filthy whore who can’t stop thinking with her needy cock hungry cunt. Need ya to fuck me stupid please my King.” He bites his lip, his breath hitching.
“I need your cocks please no one else can compare to you. You make me cum so hard I can’t think straight or walk. Wanna be fucked into a stupid cum stuffed slut!” Lightly stroking your clit through your underwear. grinding your hips.
He croons, “That’s it! I missed hearing you beg. When I think my cock can’t get any harder, it’s almost hurtin.” Fondling himself through his pants, groaning.
“Please take my underwear off. Please my king!” Slipping his finger underneath your underwear. It shouldn't feel so good to have his finger brush your lips but your cunt is clenching.
He groans, “Fuck princess your so damn beautiful, makin’ you my baby mama only made you hotter. That makes you my Queen, my personal cumdump.” Transforming quickly. He’s twice your height and beautifully monstrous with four muscular arms, a mouth stretching across his hard abs. His dark pants outlining his hard cocks.
Unbutton his pants and freeing his cock with a loud sigh. Kicking his pants aside. Massaging his balls, admiring the sight of you laying down in bed with your dress pushed up and legs spread. Your soft cunt soaking wet for him.
Leaning over you, forcing you to look up, grabbing your hands pinning them above your head. Sukuna he slaps your cunt. “This is mine! It’s always been mine!” You reflexively jerk away from the intense sweet sting.
Sukuna yanks you back into place, pinning your legs open. Slapping your cunt again, licking your clit with his stomach’s tongue. Stroking your soft numb quickly, easing the stinging, gliding one thick finger one.
Curling it, remember how your sweet cunt likes it. Massaging your soft spot with the perfect speed and pressure reducing you to a moaning quivering mess, clenching his finger.
The sound proof bedroom containing your loud needy cries. “I miss how you double stuff me. Please, pleaseplease pleaseplease!” Your words are slurring together. His thick fingers are three of your combined, stretching your soft cunt out.
“I know lil’ mama no one can fuck ya like I can. It was a matter of time till ya missed me.” You’re creaming on his fingers too quickly. You shouldn’t be able to. Yet your cunt is clenching and creaming on his fingers.
Your cheeks burning. “Did you cuming so easily?” He smirk grows, “That barely more than a minute, you haven’t been treating her right.” His tongue strokes your puffy clit faster.
Oreo creampie’s m.list
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ghostgirl101 · 6 months
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
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You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
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waitimcomingtoo · 16 days
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Uranus
Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!Reader
Synopsis: you fix Peters science project while he’s out on a date with another girl
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You walked by Peter’s room and paused in the doorway. The empty bedroom reminded you of where he was tonight and it send a sick feeling down to your stomach. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air as you looked at all the discarded outfits he had left on his bed.
“I’m not cleaning his stupid room.” You decided and walked away. You were barely halfway down the hallway when you turned and sprinted back to his room to start to put things away. You knew it wasn’t your job to take care of him but you simply couldn’t stop yourself from tidying up. You assumed he’d be getting back late from where he was and probably wouldn’t want to clean up all his clothes just to get into his bed. As you folded a pair of his jeans, you looked up into his vanity mirror and sighed.
“You’re so pathetic.” You told yourself through a groan.
“Stop talking to yourself.” Your reflection replied and pointed at you with a scathing finger. You jumped and looked down to see your finger was pointed as well.
“Right.” You mumbled and left his room.
You then went into the living room and saw Peter’s science project sitting on the couch. He had been building a model of the solar system for weeks now for his astronomy class with a little help from you here and there. All you did was hold pieces together after he glued them but he still insisted that he could not have done it without you. You smiled at the memory of the two of you working on it together and picked it up.
“Why would he leave it where someone could sit on it?” You sighed and moved it to the bar counter in the kitchen. You left the living room to use the bathroom just as Thor was entering the room. He stepped onto a bar stool with ease and took a seat on the counter to eat the apple he had taken from a lunchbox labeled “Sam’s: do not touch”. He munched his apple for a moment before feeling something digging into his back. He sat up a little and pulled a small ball out from under him that was painted to look like Mercury.
“Hm. Thats strange. I don’t remember putting that up there.” Thor frowned as he rolled the planet between his fingers. You walked back into the living room and smiled at Thor until you saw what he was holding. Your heart stopped at the same time your feet did and you let out a dramatic gasp that sent you into a coughing fit.
“Thor!” You exclaimed. “You just destroyed Peter’s science project!”
“These tiny colorful balls were his science project? What was it on? Tiny colorful balls?” Thor asked as he stood up to look at the science project he had completed crushed.
“No. It was a model of the solar system. And you just crushed it. How did you not feel that when you sat down?” You whined as more parts of the project fell from Thors jeans and back into the counter.
“Lady Y/n, you must be mistaken. I’ve seen the solar system with my own eyes. And then I had my eye cut out. And then I had my eye replaced and saw the solar system again. Peters little balls looked nothing like it.” Thor told you, making you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and stamp your feet like a little kid.
“I don’t care about your optic history.” You groaned. “Peter’s been working on it for weeks and your giant butt just crushed it in seconds.”
“Thank you. I eat a lot of yams to get these yams.” Thor smiled at the presumed compliment and patted his thigh. You watched him for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.
“Okay.” You was all you could stay in your effort to remain calm.
“I don’t see what all the petulance is about. If he formed one solar system out of tiny colorful balls, surely he can do it again. All the pieces are right here.” Thor pointed out.
“Yes, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you ruined the project he spent weeks working on. He’s gonna be devastated when he sees this. And who taught you the word “petulance”? Have you been watching The Twilight Zone again? I don’t know why you do that. It always scares you.”
“Never you mind.” He wagged a finger. “I do feel bad for the boy. I’ll collect the tiny balls since it was my behind that crushed them and then Peter can glue them back together.”
“He can’t. It’s due tomorrow and right now he’s on…I don’t know. He’s just busy and he can’t fix it tonight.” You sighed and started to collect the scattered pieces of the project.
“Busy doing what? You’re here and his small balls were finished. What else could the boy be doing?” Thor wondered. You paused for a moment and felt that sick feeling in your stomach again.
“He’s on a date.” You said for the first time out loud since Peter told you his plans for the evening. You’d been quietly stewing all day over it and letting it settle in a massive dark cloud over your head.
“Well I’m sure the man he’s with will be understanding that he has to come home to fix his balls.” Thor told you.
“Stop saying balls!” You scolded. “And the date is with a girl, for your information. A very pretty girl from our business class who smells like a vanilla and my broken dreams.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lady Y/n. I never knew why but I know that small boy means a lot to you.” Thor said sympathetically and put his hand on your shoulder. You gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand.
“Seems like a lot of things are broken tonight.” Thor continued. “Your dreams, Peters balls-“
“Say balls one more time.” You said through clenched teeth.
“Or what? You’ll stab me?” Thor challenged you.
“What? No. Jesus Christ. Who hurt you?” You mumbled and pushed his hand off your shoulder.
“My brother. And then he hurt me again. And then my sister hurt me. And then my brother once more before he died before my eyes. Enough about me, why are your dreams broken?”
“It’s complicated.” You sighed. “Can I tell you something personal?”.
“No.” Thor replied and left the room without another word. You shrugged in defeat and wondered why you even bothered.
“Well that was a fine howdy do.” You mumbled and finished collecting the pieces. You laid out all the broken bits of Peter’s project on the kitchen counter and folded your arms. It would be a lot of work for Peter and you had no idea what hour he’d be getting back. As much as you hated the idea of him being on a date, you more so hated the thought of him coming home happy and his smile falling when he saw what had become of all his hard work.
“I need to fix these balls.” You whispered to yourself. You grabbed Saturn and one it’s broken rings and started to see how you could glue them back together.
“No. I can’t do this.” You said out loud. “I can’t fix every little thing in Peter’s life just to make him happy. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not the one he asked on a date. I’m just a friend.”
You put the pieces down and folded your arms to keep your hands off it. You knew you should walk away, but you couldn’t stop thinking about all the nights you walked past his room and saw him working on the project. He’d put so much effort into it and now it was in pieces on the counter.
“A girlfriend would spend the next few hours working on a project that has no impact on me just to save Peter the trouble. A good friend would feel bad that his work got destroyed and offer condolences when he got home. And I’m a good friend. Not a girlfriend. It’s not my problem. So I’m walking away.” You decided and left the room. You lasted all of three minutes before you ran back into the room with a tube of crazy glue.
“I gotta fix the balls.” You exclaimed and plopped yourself down at the table. Once you organized all the planets and parts of the solar system, you went to Peter’s room to get the sketched out drawing he had made of the project to use as a blueprint. You silently thanked Peter for being so meticulous and followed his sketch to rebuild his project.
Time went by slowly but your hands cramped up quickly as you worked on the model. It was around the time you glued on Saturns 30th moon, you understood why it took Peter so long to complete the project. All the moons and planets looked the same to you so you had to carefully study his drawings and rely on your memory of when you helped him with the project to guide you as you worked. You had to stop every so often to rub your eyes and roll out your wrists to keep them from getting stiff.
You drifted off into sleep at some point when staring at Jupiters moons became a little too mind numbingly boring. Peter got back from his date about midnight and strolled past you on his way to his room. He backtracked when he realized you were asleep at the table and frowned. His completed science project was beside you, save for one missing moon next to Jupiter. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the sight so he gently shook you awake.
“Hey. You awake?” He asked in a soft tone as he shook your shoulders. You shot up immediately and nearly knocked your head into his.
“I’m not snoring.” You blurted as you pulled the hair that was stuck to your cheek away.
“I know.” He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Why is Ganymede stuck to your face?”
“Why is what?” You asked through a yawn. Peter smiled and pulled the missing moon off your cheek and held it out to show you.
“Ganymede. The largest moon in the solar system.” He told you and put it in its correct spot on the model.
“There is no way you saw a random gray ball stuck to my face and correctly identified it as Gammy meme.” You insisted.
“Ganymede.” He corrected. “And I only know because I labeled them. See?”
Peter pulled the moon back off to show you a tiny G written on the bottom with the word “Jupiter” in parentheses beside it.
“They’re labeled?” You nearly shouted. “Well that would’ve been helpful four hours ago.”
“Four hours? That’s how long you’ve been here? What happened?” Peter frowned and took a seat beside you. You gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the model.
“I’m sorry, Peter. Thor sat on your project by accident.” You admitted. “I’ve been putting it back together ever since. I think I got most of it the way you had it but I never found Pluto. I honestly think it went up his ass and he just didn’t realize.”
“You spent four hours fixing my project?” He asked with a surprised smile.
“Of course I did. I know how hard you worked on this. I didn’t want you to have to start all over.” You told him. He gave you a fond smile and placed his hand on top of yours. Your eyes flicked to your hands and you gulped but said nothing.
“I really appreciate this but you really didn’t have to do this. You should have called me. I could’ve come home and fixed it myself.”
“But I knew you were really excited about tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” You said without looking at him.
“Well that was very selfless of you. And I hate to tell you this after all the work you did, but the date was bad. I would’ve loved an excuse to leave.” He admitted, making you smile involuntarily.
“It was bad?” You asked and quickly cleared your throat to cover up your smile.
“Woah. Don’t sound too happy.” He snorted.
“What?” You asked in a high pitched voice. “I’m not. Why would that make me happy? But please elaborate anyway.”
“It was bad.” He grimaced. “Like, season 6 of Glee level bad.”
“That bad?” You gasped. “So many forgettable characters. So many odd couple choices.”
“They sang Let it Go. They worked Let it Go from Frozen into the plot and made them sing it.” Peter shook his head.
“That was not the worst for me. The worst was when Mr. Shue rapped Same Love. They let the straight adult rap a song about being gay when the entire cast of queer young people were right there. And wasn’t there a child in the club for some reason? And twins who were lowkey dating?”
“Yep. All of that. And yet, my date was still worse.” He shrugged. You looked down at your lap and smiled a little before quickly dropping it.
“It was that bad, huh?” You asked and tried not to sound too interested.
“So bad.” He sighed. “She was a great girl, don’t get me wrong. We just had no connection whatsoever. She didn’t laugh at any of my jokes and then there were a few times where I thought she was joking so I laughed but she didn’t and then we sat in awkward silence.”
“That’s the worst. I hate awkward silence. I once pretended to forgot the word for “seatbelt” just to keep a conversation going with an uber driver. I kept calling it a strap on.”
“Wait, is that not what a strap on is?” Peter played dumb. “Should we Google it to make sure?”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “Keep going. I want to hear more about this awful date with the girl you’ll never see again.”
“There was just no spark. We realized pretty quickly that we didn’t have anything in common. At one point, she asked me if Star Wars was the “movie with the things you can’t feed after midnight”. So I don’t foresee a second date.”
“Wow. She had to have a serious lack of knowledge about two major huge pop culture movies to ask that question.”
“I know. I told her yes and she believed me.” Peter replied, making you laugh. He laughed as well over how ridiculous the whole night had been before stopping to look at you. When your laughter died down and you realized he was staring at you, you smiled shyly and looked over at the project to avoid eye contact.
“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” You told him. “Maybe the next girl will understand you more.”
“Yeah. I hope so.” He said in a soft voice and never stopped looking at you.
“You’ll have better luck next time. To be honest, I thought the date was doomed as soon as you told me you were going for sushi. You hate raw fish.”
“Because I’m not a seagull.”
“Because you’re not a seagull, yeah.” You laughed. “I think of that every time I eat sushi. I’m no better than those damn seagulls.”
“Don’t say that. You’re way better. A seagull would not have done all this for me.” Peter insisted and gestured to the project. You looked over at the solar system you had given too many hours of your life too and smiled as you realized something.
“I had to fix it. I didn’t want you to be stressed.”
“But didn’t this stress you out? Designing this thing gave me gray hair and premature menopause.” Peter replied, making you laugh softly.
“A little.” You admitted. “But I felt better when I remembered why I was doing it.”
“Why were you doing it?”
“Because I’d do anything for you, Peter.” You said simply. You watched his ears turn pink and he turned his head so that you wouldn’t see his smile.
“I’d do anything for you too, you know.” He said in a quiet voice.
“Careful.” You warned him. “You already owe me big time for fixing this unnecessarily detailed solar system. If you tell me you’d do anything for me, you’re really at my mercy.”
“Uh oh. Sounds dangerous.” He laughed softly. You shared another moment of eye contact and smiled softly at each other.
“It’s late. We should probably get to bed.” You suggested.
“You’re right. Thank you again for this.” Peter said and picked up the project. You didn’t know if you were sleep deprived or delirious from working on the project all night but you felt compelled to share every secret you had with Peter.
“Honestly, Peter, I was happy to do this stupid science project because it kept me from thinking about you on your date.” You told him as you got up and rubbed your tired eyes.
“Really? Why didn’t you want to think about that?”
“Because whenever I did think about you on your date, I wanted to throw up.” You admitted. “And then rip out my hair. And then eat my hair and throw it back up. And then kill my self or something.”
“Well,” Peter said slowly, “I see your urge to rip your hair out and raise you the fact that I only said yes to this date because she wears the same perfume as you. And I needed a night off from staring at the ceiling and thinking about what would happen if I just told you how I felt.”
You stopped mid yawn and gave him a confused look. His eyes were darting everywhere except for your eyes and you could see the rosy glow on his cheeks even in the dim light of the kitchen.
“Oh? And how do you feel?” You wondered and crossed your arms. Peter gulped before sitting up straight in his chair.
“I don’t know. Why did me being on a date make you so upset?” He challenged you. You narrowed your eyes at him and he looked nervous but didn’t back down.
“I asked you first.” You shrugged.
“Well I asked you second.” He replied. “And as Aristotle or whoever once said, first is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest.”
“Ew, what?” You grimaced. “It’s treasure chest. Third is the one with the treasure chest.”
“That makes no sense. Why would a person in third place, the very last place, be rewarded with a treasure chest? They’re the loser so they get a hairy chest. Now that’s sensical.”
“No it’s not.” You scoffed. “It makes even less sense. If I come in third place, does that mean my chest will grow hair? Or does it mean I will be given a torso with a hairy chest? Or, hear me out, does it imply that my chest is already hairy. And that’s why I came in third.”
“You did what in third?” Peter mumbled.
“Shut up. Can we get back to what we were talking about?”
“You’re right. We should go to sleep.” Peter said and tried to walk past you. You placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place and he gulped.
“Hold up.” You told him. “I’m cashing in that favor you owe me right now. We gotta talk. Sit back down.”
“I’m sat.” Peter said quietly and sat back down in his seat. You pulled your chair up to be across from him and sat down as well.
“I’m going to ask you again and I don’t want to hear another single reference to chests or placement.” You prefaced. “How do you feel?”
Peter scratched the back of his head to spare some time because he knew he was caught. He suddenly got a shy smile on his face suddenly and looked over at his project.
“Can I show you something?” He asked you as he pulled the sun off the center of the project.
“Dude.” You sighed. “I just glued that.”
“I know. And I’ll fix it. But look.” He said and turned the sun over. You looked at him in confusion and leaned forward to see what he was talking about. On the bottom of the sun in Peter’s hand writing were your first and last initials.
“My initials? Why? You smiled in surprise and looked up at him.
“Because the solar system revolves around the sun.” He explained. “But my solar system revolves around you.”
You stayed quiet as he put the sun back on the model and took your hand. A look of skepticism stayed on your face as he looked into your eyes.
“I know I do a good job of hiding it. But there is a piece of you in everything I do.” He said. “There always has been. This was just one of my more obvious ones.”
“Wow.” You said after a beat. “I really should’ve looked at the bottom of these.”
“Yeah. You should’ve.” He laughed and leaned in a little.
“Yeah. I should’ve.” You cracked a smile and leaned in as well. You stared into big brown eyes for a second and decided this was the last night you and Peter were just friends.
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Is it about the solar system?”
“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you kiss her tonight?”
“I don’t know. Ask me that question again one minute from now.” Peter said as he closed the gap between you and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer since you’d been waiting for this for a while. And it was everything you imagined it would be. When the kiss started to heat up, Peter slipped an arm around you and picked you up with ease. He hastily placed you down on the counter and you jumped apart when you heard a crunching sound.
You pulled out of the kiss and looked down to see that Peter had placed you directly on top of the science project that you had just spent hours fixing. You both stared at the scattered pieces in stunned silence for a moment before he gave you a sheepish smile. You didn’t smile back and instead stared daggers at him while trying to explode his head using your mind.
“I can fix it?” He said through a nervous laugh. You held your hands up in defeat and hopped off the counter without a word.
“What? That’s how this night ends? Come on.” Peter whined and followed you as you left the room and continued your silent treatment towards him.
“You’re seriously going to walk away after that? We had something going there. Don’t go now.” He whined some more and trotted after you like a puppy.
“Go get something going with the planets I spent the last four hours glueing back together.” You grumbled and held up your middle finger for him to see as he trailed after you.
“Come on.” He half laughed, half groaned. “You can’t send me to bed after a kiss like that. We need to at least talk about it. Let’s go back and…” Peter trailed off when you passed his bedroom and he caught a glimpse of his clean floor.
“Wait, did you clean my room too?” He asked, knowing he had left it a mess before he left for the date. You froze in your tracks for a moment but decided to keep the upper hand instead of admitting to Peter that you were so down bad that you had in fact cleaned his room.
“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Peter. Goodnight.” You said and slammed your door in his face. He barely had time to react before you opened your door back up and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
“Get your ass in here, loser.”
“Don’t you mean get your anus in here? Because it sounds like Uranus?” He said with a proud smile. You stared him dead in the eyes and didn’t crack even a hint of smile.
“Do you want to come in here or not?”
“I already unzipped my pants, yeah.” He admitted as he dashed through your bedroom door.
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nvuy · 4 months
Note
h.how do we feel .
“Uh… sorry ‘bout the mess. I’ll make it up to ya.” For good measure, the space cowboy kicks one of the corpses to the side with his boot.
You clutch your chest tighter, heart racing. “You just killed fifteen IPC soldiers in my bar.”
“Yep.”
“You–”
He suddenly looks offended. “Hey. I did the world a favour. I don’t take kindly to rats puttin’ their fudgin’ filthy hands on the merchandise.” He gestures to his torso. Then, he whistles, placing his thumbs on the waistband of his pants. “But, nice place ya got. This your business?”
Dazed, you nod slowly. Your eyes flit to the broken sign and the smashed television hanging over the bar counter.
The bottles are smashed to bits. There’s liquor spilled all over the floor—expensive liquor. This would cost a fortune to fix, let alone to then replace all of the products.
You exhale shakily. You try not to look at the bodies.
The cowboy pities you. You can see it on his face. He says nothing. He awkwardly clears his throat and skims the rim of his hat with his fingers.
This sucks.
“How ‘bout this? I’ll give ya the bounty money so you can fix this place up.”
“Will you pay for my therapy sessions as well?” you chime in, murmuring beneath your breath.
He cracks a smile. “If that’s what you want.”
You lean over the counter and place your head in your hands. Tiredly, you ask, “how much?”
You hear the cowboy click his tongue in thought. “‘Bout… seventy-five? Give or take?”
You look at him from between your fingers. “Huh? Seventy-five hundred?”
The cowboy, yet again, looks offended. “Million, hun. I don’t do my job for cheap. What do I look like to you?”
You squawked. “Seventy-five million?”
“You heard me.” He cocks his head to the side, lips pressed into a thin line. “Why? You like that?”
“You can’t give me seventy-five million credits. Are you serious?” You could feel your face burning in shock. Your hands slam onto the counter, and you point an accusing finger in his face. “You must run some sort of shady business.”
The cowboy looks to the left for a moment.
He blinks at you like you’re stupid.
“You’re serious?” you repeat.
Instead of answering, he pulls out his phone from his pocket. You say nothing about the flimsy orange case, instead watching as he fumbles and squints at the screen before turning it towards you.
He shows you the recent deposit.
As he said. Seventy-five million fat credits sit right there in his account.
Hesitantly, you grab the phone to peer closer. Curiously, you start scrolling. These deposits clearly weren’t new to him. There were so many starting back from about ten years ago. There was a recent one of two-hundred thousand, then another just crossing fifty-seven million–
You were going to pass out. You hand his phone back to him with trembling fingers.
“Seventy-five sound good, or ya want some more?” He was tapping away on the screen again. “Gimme your bank details.”
“No!” You shake your head. “I don’t need your money. It’s fine.”
“How ‘bout eighty?”
“I–”
“Eighty-five.”
“No, I–”
“Round it up.” He turns the phone to you again, this time waiting for you to take it. An empty prompt of a receiver for the credits waits still. “One hundred.”
“Stop. I’m not taking your money.”
“I insist,” was all he said. “Got plenty to dispose of. And was never too responsible wit’ it anyway. Also, don’t really need to spend money on food and stuff, ‘cause, y’know–” He gestures to himself again. “I trashed your place. Lemme help ya fix it up.”
“I’m not taking your money,” you repeat.
The cowboy narrows his eyes at you.
To retaliate, you narrow them back.
Then, grumpily, he states, “you’re stubborn.”
“Yeah.” You bristle defensively. “And?”
“I like it,” he all but purrs. He leans over the counter, fingers drumming over the bench. “If ya don’t want my money, how’z about I take ya out for dinner? To say sorry?”
Huh? You lean back, cowering away from the sharp teeth he displays behind pulled lips. Your heart races in your chest, half out of the anxiety that riddles your veins, but also because he’s practically snapping his teeth in your face like a shark.
Your hands coil into weak fists.
“What do ya think, pretty?”
You look at him.
You suppose he’s handsome—you’re not sure if it’s appropriate to call a cyborg handsome. But he’s got lovely hair, and it falls over his shoulders like water. It covers half his face, but the eye you can see is… trustworthy, to an extent.
He’s definitely not the most insane man you’ve ever met, so that’s a bonus. He also just killed a bunch of soldiers in your territory. You didn’t like the IPC either, and maybe he did do you a favour, but still.
You sigh. You think the pleading flutter of his lashes won you over.
“Fine.”
“That’s the spirit.” He holds out his hand, palm facing upwards. “Phone.”
Your face twists suspiciously. “No funny business.” Hesitantly, you reach into your pocket and hand it to him.
He grins and takes it. “Not at all. I’m a super trustworthy guy.” You find it hard to believe him. Again, he seems to have trouble navigating your phone. He notices you staring. “Sorry. Can’t read very well.”
“Oh.” You straighten up slightly. “Do you want me to add your number instead?”
He makes a face at the phone.
“Nope. I got it.” He hands you back your phone after a moment. The contact is still open on the screen: Boothill. He’s somehow taken a photo of himself without you noticing. “Might’ve added an extra zero. Oops.”
“Oh.” You stare down at the phone number. “There's no zeroes in your number.”
“Sure.” Boothill pulls back from the counter with a tip of his hat. “I gotta run. I’ll set up our lil’ dinner date later.”
You turn your phone off. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“You got it, babe.” He blows you a kiss and waves his hand behind him.
As soon as the door shuts, you get a notification of a successful deposit into your bank account.
Your face immediately drains of blood as you frantically open up the app.
Seven-hundred and fifty million credits sit in your account.
The message attached to it reads, ‘Dont bot her snending it back. Wont work. LOL.’
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Text
*NSFW* How to train your pet Human pt. 3 (Yandere!Alien x GN!Reader)
CW: Dub-con, mild psychological distress, mind break, dead dove fic
Part 1, part 2
Kirtch slumped over his friend's standing chair, miserable and mopey.
A tall creature, taller than even Kirtch, sighed dramatically, sauntering around their depressed friend with a smaller horned being crawling behind them.
"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." Kirtch whined pathetically in Jaudna's native tongue. Jaudna made a gurgling sound with the soft spot on their head, the closest human equivalent being someone rolling their eyes. They sprawled across their lounging seat, motioning for their pet to stay on his knees.
"I'll tell you exactly what you've done wrong. You pampered them too much."
"I punish them!"
"You punished them for their escape attempt. That was it. You've allowed your pet to test your authority in plenty of ways after that."
The man on his knees pleaded with his eyes to be let up, but stayed perfectly still, like he wasn't alive. Kirtch noted Jaudna's pet's demeanor with discomfort. That discomfort only lasted until he imagined (Reader) in that same position, looking up at him with their large dewy eyes, waiting so patiently to be held by him... his discomfort was replaced by jealousy.
"You don't understand, (Reader's) such a sweet little pet, and whenever they struggle they're so cute about it. I just can't understand why they aren't happy."
"Humans' minds are incredibly flawed. According to the few psychological texts I have gotten my claws on over the years, their memory is not set in stone like ours, it is fickle and easily manipulated. One of my books referenced a case in the nation called 'The United States of America' where nearly the entire country fell into panic over an imaginary evil, because a few doctors used a phoney science called 'hypnotism', a practice they believed could help recover forgotten memories, on a bunch of children, but accidentally implanted false memories of abuse, leaving the children traumatized, believing that they had been victims of a horrific occult."
Kirtch looked to his good friend nervously. "Are you implying I do something nefarious to my pet's mind?"
"No, I'm showcasing an example of how stupidly easy it should be to train your pet to love you." They tossed a book into Kirtch's hands, the cover printed with a photograph of a wild looking man, with fluffy hair and dark, hateful eyes. "Hypnotism isn't the only creative way humans have learned to reprogram each other."
Kirtch almost threw the book back, but saw Jaudna's unnamed pet still sitting so patiently for his master, and the pain in his body where his heart may have been throbbed again. "Thank you.. Jaudna."
(Reader) had waited for what they assumed to be well over an Earth day, alone in Kirtch's quarters, waiting for his return. The only company they received were the employees who brought their meals, speaking down at them in a language they didn't know, but could understand the disgust. It had been over a month since their fight with Kirtch. Every day since had been nothing but hell, feeling like their heart had been ripped out, they laid in their bed cage, only moving when necessary, allowing themselves to hide away inside their own mind.
The main door opened again, and (Reader) could hear Kirtch's long, graceful steps as he passed through the study and into the bedroom. "(Reader)? Are you still in bed?"
In an act of defiance, (Reader) kept their mouth shut, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. But it was of little use, as Kirtch easily lifted their purposefully dead weighted body out of the bed.
"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, pet, but I had to see an old friend for advice." He carried (Reader) back to his desk, sitting them in his lap, fighting to hold them upright as they flopped about limply. "(Reader), please sit up so I can take off your shirt."
He began working on the wrists, the intricate metal cuffs with multiple buttons that almost acted like locks, and (Reader) subtly straightened their back to give him better access to the neck corset thing, thankful to finally have it off for a couple hours at least. (Reader) had grown to find it somewhat elegant the past few months, but it still was an incredible pain in the ass.
Feeling the air on their neck was bliss, and (Reader) immediately ran their fingers over their skin. (Reader) breathed a deep sigh, relaxing their body unintentionally. But almost as soon as their hands left their throat, a new collar was latched into place, a loud mechanism clicking as it tightened, stabbing the back of their neck with what felt like a fixed needle.
(Reader) cried out in pain, sprawling out their limbs on reflex, pushing themselves out of Kirtch's embrace and onto the floor, lying naked on their knees as they clawed at the collar, desperate to relieve the pain.
"What?? Why?" Their voice was barely audible through their sobs.
"I'm so sorry my pet, the pain will end soon, wait-" Kirtch pushed a button on what looked like a remote, and (Reader) could physically feel the rush of liquid enter their body, then the pain lightened, leaving (Reader) almost euphoric in it's absence.
"What is this? Why did you do this?" Betrayal laced their tone, and Kirtch looked almost on the verge of tears, but he stood still, refusing his urge to scoop up his little pet and beg for forgiveness.
"I know now that I didn't train you correctly, and for that I am sorry. I've given you too much leeway, and that is why you've been so unhappy." He took a ragged breath, thumbing the controller as he thought out his words. "I didn't want to do this, but I care about your happiness. This is for the best."
"So you put a shock collar on me?" (Reader) asked incredulously, spitting venom.
"No, nothing barbaric like that!" Kirtch looked hurt, flinching as he almost dropped onto his knees to comfort (Reader). "I just need to convince you that you're happy here with me, just as I did the first night you were here, to help you release your stress."
(Reader) remembered the shot he gave them, that first night when Kirtch used a toy to get them off, the hormones he artificially added to their body to make them feel pleasure, and then thought about the pain in the back of their neck. The color drained from their face. There were only two options; plead or double down.
"You can manipulate me all you like, I'll never be happy here." A tear escaped as (Reader) transformed their hurt into anger. "I deserve someone who will love me, not as a pet, but as an equal. Because I am a human fucking being. And we have partnerships. We don't jack off our pets, we do not love our pets like we love the people we have sex with, because that- that is not okay! Why did you.." (Reader) couldn't stop themselves from crying, looking up to try to at least slow the waterworks.
The silence between them was loud. (Reader) turned away, wiping away their snot with their bare arms.
"Pet, noun; a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Adjective; denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about." (Reader) looked up, horrified. "Your's may not be my first language, but I feel I had a pretty decent grasp on my understanding of what a pet is."
Kirtch placed a hand over his face to hide his expression.
"You'll be happier once this is all over. I promise."
"You son of a-!" (Reader) couldn't finish their sentence, more fluid passed into their spine, followed by an immediate sense of emptiness. Extreme anxiety flooded their body, causing severe stomach pain almost instantly. They collapsed, holding onto their midsection, their bare skin clammy. "What? Why?"
"No more talking back to me, pet." Kirtch kept his voice steady.
(Reader) cried out, rapidly becoming exhausted from heavy nothingness filling their body. "Please.. stop.."
Kirtch nodded, appearing relieved. He pushed another button, and the emptiness ebbed away, leaving (Reader) numb.
"I don't understand why you're doing this." (Reader) weakly grumbled, too tired to pick themselves up.
"Because I want you to be happy."
"I'll never be happy with you."
"Why?"
"Because! I deserve to be loved!"
"I love you-"
"Fucking liar." (Reader) snarled, knowing that this would cause them to be punished again, but needing to get in the last word. Kirtch looked so miserable, so crushed by (Reader's) words, but they felt vindicated by his pain. They needed to twist the knife deeper.
He smiled, so sadly, and grabbed a blanket, bending onto one knee as he covered his pet. "I love you, (Reader)."
Their heart clenched, and their face flushed. Immediately they searched his hands for the remote. "S-stop that."
"I love you."
Chemicals pumped into their neck, making (Reader) feverish and causing their thighs to ache. Their breath hitched, and tears of betrayal escaped. "I hate you."
"I know."
More pain gripped their throat, regret causing physical discomfort. "Why are you doing this?"
His smooth shelled fingers caressed their jaw, tenderly cradling (Reader's) face as though he needed them. Kirtch's touch sent shivers across (Reader's) skin, and they couldn't tell if it was because of the collar or their loneliness, but they wanted to pull him closer, make him touch them more.
"I will live for much longer than you. I will watch you grown old, and die. Even then, I will still love you. You are the most incredible creature I've ever met. I don't mind if you push me away, and slap at me. I just want you to be happy, at least most of the time." His head grew closer, his hardened face almost brushing (Reader's). "Let me make you happy."
'I need to fight back. Make him pay! I'm practically a slave! He bought me! I'll never see my family again because of him!'
(Reader) leaned forward, mind melting through their ears from the intense heat, and smashed their lips onto where his should have been.
All rational thoughts were drowned out by the intense need. They needed him, his love. (Reader) was aware of the sound of buttons clicking, but they couldn't stop, crawling onto Kirtch's body, feeling the edges of his joints scraping their back as his hands hungrily roamed their body, wanting to touch everything.
They would have felt ashamed, knowing how aroused they were, their exposed body touching Kirtch's stomach. Sweat was clinging to (Reader's) skin, and their eyes drooped stupidly. The only thing they could think of was relieving themselves, and wanting to see Kirtch relieved as well.
"Are you going to fuck me?" (Reader) whined between wet kisses, drunk on his touches.
"I will, if you want me to."
Their mood shifted, frustration beginning to surface again. "No. If you love me, wouldn't you want me?"
Kirtch sighed, fiddling with the remote behind (Reader's) back. "I do not have the same nervous system as humans do. We only engage in sexual acts for the purpose of procreation."
Shame shocked (Reader), sobering them up instantly. "Oh. I- I am so sorry." (Reader) moved to get off of Kirtch, but was held in place by the much stronger being.
"I will, to make you happy."
"No, I'm sorry! It won't make me happy knowing you aren't feeling good. I'm-I'm sorry, please let me go."
Kirtch pressed the button again, watching his pet's face darken and their mouth go from frightened to slack jawed. "Knowing you are feeling pleasure, from me, and only me, will bring me more joy than I can express." His cloak was ripped away, revealing his gorgeously colored exoskeleton. Kirtch gripped (Reader's) face tighter, forcing his blue tongue deep into their mouth, bursting with pride at the sounds (Reader) was making.
"What do you want me to do?" Kirtch asked, not intending on sounding like he was teasing them, but Kirtch craved the sound of their voice begging him.
"Please.." (Reader) swallowed their drool, feeling the hormones pumping into their brain, but too horny to care. "Please fuck me."
The spot on his pelvis where a human's genitals would be split open and a long, slimy cock revealed itself, growing behind (Reader's) back to a horrifying size. (Reader) only became aware of his erection when it fell forward, slapping against (Reader's) ass and lower back. In their intoxicated state, they turned back to look at what had suddenly touched them, and their eyes grew large in surprise. "Is that..? That's too big..."
Off balance and tipsy, (Reader) turned around, still sitting on Kirtch's abdomen, so that they were facing his exposed dick, and touched it experimentally. It was ridiculously huge, but because of the hormones being injected into (Reader's) neck, they were ravenous, using both hands to pump up and down on the shaft as they stuck the thin tipped head into their mouth, tasting Kirtch passionately. Kirtch was beyond elated, watching his precious pet so needy for him.
Kirtch picked (Reader) up, moaning at the popping sound as he pulled their mouth away from his body, seeing nothing but love in (Reader's) eyes as he spun them back to face him, and slowly began lowering (Reader) onto his naturally lubricated member. "Keep looking at me."
(Reader's) mind was hazy, and it felt like they were about to die, saliva and alien fluids leaking out their mouth and down their chin. Their internal voice had gone silent, the amount of tampering that had been done to their brain left (Reader) devoid of rational thought and intellect. "Yes sir." They barely got the words out as Kirtch entered their body, sliding into their needy little hole easily and without resistance, ramming himself in so their pelvis smacked into his shell with a wet plop, bringing (Reader) to a climax just from entering.
"Smile for me, pet." Kirtch cooed joyfully, loving how (Reader's) body spasmed, before slowly lifting them up, revealing the trail of their combined wetness stretching between their reproductive organs.
(Reader) smiled, reacting on autopilot as they rode out their orgasm, practically biting off their tongue when their sensitive body connected with Kirtch's again. "Ahhh, I already came! Stop!!" Their words cried for relief, however their voice and smile demanded more. It was too much, and (Reader) did want a break, but it also felt amazing, and that dirty little part of themselves that was desperate for love needed their body to be abused.
Kirtch bounced (Reader) on his cock, fucking them like a toy, regretting that he didn't have a camera rolling to capture just how adorable his pet was in his hands. "Look at how happy you are, pet! Don't you want to be this happy all the time? Don't you always want to be happy, with me?"
Kirtch greedily pushed the button again, peppering (Reader) with kisses as they came again, their sticky juices splattering on his stomach. The squelching sound of (Reader's) bruising body getting fucked by the hard as steel monster beneath them was music to Kirtch's ears. He had, embarrassingly, read the book his friend had lent him, and knew now how humans used pleasure to keep brainwashed people by their side. But it wasn't just pleasure, it was that feeling of connection. He had thought about what (Reader) had said, that humans don't jack off their pets, and that made sense, for animals that did not share the same level of intelligence as an adult human. What (Reader) needed, was to feel equal, to feel like they weren't just a pet, but a partner. So how would they feel, if Kirtch ejaculated so deep into their body they were still excreting his cum weeks later?
"I'm going to mark you as mine, (Reader)." It was a lie, his species did no such thing, but the look of unbridled joy on (Reader's) cross eyed face, the loopy smile that twitched as tears poured down to their chest, was a sight that made it worth lying.
"Are you cumming? Are you cumming in me?" (Reader) slurred, barely holding themselves upright in Kirtch's grasp.
"If you promise to be a good little pet." Kirtch could hold out for as long as needed. His species did not have sex for pleasure, so there was no sense of urgency when they needed to release. He could have continued going for hours, if he hadn't overdone it with the collar. (Reader) was on the verge of passing out.
"I promise! I promise to be a good pet! I promise!" (Reader) exclaimed, colliding their lips back onto Kirtch's as a string of hot sperm shot up into (Reader's) body, a fluid so thick it was practically glue, leaving (Reader) feeling physically full. Kirtch couldn't help but push the button again, seeing his pet overflow with adoration for him.
"I love you, (Reader), I really really do."
Kirtch whispered sweet nothing's into his pet's ear as they passed out, then carried them to his bed, tucking in their swollen body, not minding the mess. (Reader) really was the most beautiful and adorable little pet in the entire universe. He doubt that he would ever get another pet after (Reader) was gone. He sat on the floor, rubbing circles into their tear stained cheeks, smiling contently.
Of course, the next day Kirtch would have to use the collar, showing (Reader) how bad they truly felt inside when they refused to get out of bed, and while it was awful making them cry when they tried to refuse to eat, it was for the best. Kirtch knew it wouldn't take long for (Reader) to graduate from needing their collar, and that soon they would always be by his side, begging him to pick them up and play with them. It didn't matter whether (Reader) needed cuddles or needed to be filled with his seed, Kirtch would overuse that remote until they desired his touch all the time.
He didn't mind the glassy, doll like glaze to their eyes, the change in their speech, the way they began crying whenever it looked like Kirtch was unhappy, or how they stopped pushing him away. After months of flushing their system with artificial love, Kirtch knew that his pet was happy with him. And that was all that mattered.
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cockaiine · 6 months
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‘ Earned it ’ ft. r.sukuna
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haunted by jujutsu sorcerers, you come to Sukuna for help. after begging to work under him, he agrees. what could the King of Curses possibly have in store for you..?
ɞ⁺ contains: heian era!sukuna x curse user! fem!reader, afab!reader, four arms sukuna, degradation, praise, cussing, riding, choking, hair pulling, mean sukuna, mentions of killing, mentions of blood, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, suggestion of overstim
ɞ⁺ w.c: 3.6k
ɞ⁺ note: thank you to my favorite @sttoru for beta reading! this took forever. hope you enjoy!
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“Couldn’t you just kill her?”
What?
Standing before you is a man that embodies terror—a tremendous body and another pair of arms to make him even more distinct. The name Ryomen Sukuna is a chilling one, so many stories embellished around it. Hearts tremble with fear of each fable. You have heard of all his atrocities, cruelties sorcerers were subject to. But, as you stand in his presence, you begin to realize that these tales barely scratch the surface of his menace.
Adults employed his name to compel sleep, a whispered threat to coax children into slumber. You were no exception, truly. But you were always fierce, a soul unafraid. 
Right. That’s what got you into the mess you’re in right now.
“I’m sorry, my lord. But if that’s your wish, then I shall go ahead and-”
“No-! Wait… please,” you surprise even yourself, words spill forth at their own accord. Your throat grows dry at the way both of them turn to look at you. struggling to maintain composure, you implore, “Please, just one chance. I promise I can make myself useful. I’d do anything. Anything.”
An amused chuckle thunders in Sukuna’s chest. It’s a cruel sound, imposing fear upon your senses. “And.. what exactly makes you think a meek sorcerer like you could be of any use to me?”
He’s almost offended by the notion. Sukuna is in need of no one. Especially not you; a sorcerer that came begging for his help. How ridiculous.
“I-I’m a first grade!” you exclaim, “I can do so many things, I-”
“Shut it.” The nearly-amused expression has been dropped, a somber tone to replace that. Your eyes widen immediately, a telltale sign of the terror you feel. “You are a weak sorcerer. You are nothing. Do you have any argument to make?”
“No, my lord,” your eyes meet the floor in a hard glare, cursing your misfortune. 
You came to Uraume with hope, recalling a past acquaintance. You had not anticipated the drastic change in her. Standing against jujutsu sorcerers was no wise choice. You found yourself haunted down with no other choice.
Perhaps finding a protector would help—someone whom all sorcerers fear, compelled by their dread to leave you unharmed. None other than the King of Curses himself. If you devoted yourself to his service, showing unmatched loyalty, maybe then he’d protect you.
If only life is so forgiving.
You believed Uraume could help. You convinced yourself that alignment with Sukuna's subordinate could forge a safer path for protection. For safety. Yet, the last outcome you could have predicted was a suggestion for your execution.
“Good,” is his sole utterance. Uraume stands a few feet away, silent unless addressed. 
Even with your eyes cast down, you can feel Sukuna’s eyes surveying you, the weight of four eyes is not an easy one. His gaze is empty, one of menace. You do not appear weak, though relative to him you certainly are. However, he trusts Uraume's judgment, convinced there must be a valid reason for your presence.
“I’ll…  think about it,” You hear. Your head lifts abruptly, disbelief mingling with hope at the prospect of succor etched on your face. A sigh escapes you, looking at his hard features. Despite your awareness that Sukuna's motives lack benevolence or goodwill, you grasp at any opportunity presented.
“Thank you,” your knees buckle beneath you. Tears of relief flood your eyes as you continue. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You can flee now,” he replies curtly. You weren’t expecting much more anyway. “Uraume, lead her out.”
The curse user complies, leading you from the chambers of the King of Curses. Reaching the exit, you extend a hand toward Uraume before she returns inside.
“Th-thank you…” You muster.
“I’m not the one you’re to thank,” Her gaze is hard as ice,  empty as one’s could be. You were hoping for some warmth, a semblance of assurance in a world so cruel. But who were you kidding; you held no significance to Uraume, who had long forsaken her humanity to serve solely the King of Curses. “Lord Sukuna has the highest authority over your life right now. Don’t screw your chances.”
The door slams in your visage before you can reply. You swallow. Uncertainty begins to bubble into you. What if he changes his mind? What if this was some kind of ruse? 
But it wasn’t, and not too long later you find yourself in Sukuna’s chambers. You hear he’s beaten yet another jujutsu sorcerer, this one remarkable. It’s a surprise to no one. You hope you’re not next.
You’re even given a room to yourself, one you barely leave unless for food. The concept of running into Sukuna terrifies you. 
A loud knock comes from the sliding door, making you flinch. You hasten to it, crouching before the wooden barrier. Your palms lay flat against the surface as you slide it open with ease. Uraume towers above you, her gaze fixed.
“Lord Sukuna requires your immediate attendance,” she tells you.
“I-I’ll be right there,” your breath falters, looking up at the white-haired woman. Uraume stands still. You realize she’s only waiting for you to gather yourself and accompany her. 
You’re quick to oblige, standing up and trying your best to dispel the embarrassing fear displayed over your features. With swift movement, you grab your kosode’s belt and wrap it tightly around your middle. You stand before Uraume, who looks you up and down before simply turning around and walking, expecting you to keep up. 
Anxiety plagues you, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what reason Sukuna would summon you. You’re so preoccupied that you don’t realize Uraume's route isn’t the same one you took to his chamber last time.
Sooner than you anticipate, Uraume takes an abrupt halt by a door. You nearly collide face-first with the finely painted wood. Recoiling, your eyes study the door. Patterns adorn the wood, carved carefully by the hands of a professional. 
The detail on the door captivates you, it makes you wonder if Sukuna has truly observed it even once in his life. Your appreciation of it is short-lived, as Uraume calls you and pulls you out of thought.
“Pay attention or face expulsion,” she hisses before knocking at the door.
A grunted “You may enter,” resonates from inside. The curse user beside you immediately falls to her knees, and you follow path. Her hands lift to the door, which weighs more than yours, and she opens it with a fluid gesture.
“She has arrived, my lord.”
“Very well,” Sukuna utters. Emboldened, you look up, and the sight you’re met with makes your face heat up. There he sits, expression unyielding and gaze inscrutable, his torso is bare—save for the black marks that adorn his chiseled body. On any other day, you would have stopped to admire the sight, but today your eyes go back to staring at your bent knees. “Come in.”
Uraume knows she’s not the one intended, while you know that you are. With great force, you’re capable of pushing yourself up and walking toward the man sitting on the floor.
The door shuts as soon as you step foot into the room, making you flinch. “W-How can I help you, my Lord?”
Quietly, Sukuna hums in thought. His scrutiny of you, trailing to your feet and then meeting your eyes once more, kindles a patent tension within. There’s a sick, twisted desire within you—a desire for the man who would kill you without second thought.
“You said you can do many things, have you not?” He raises a single eyebrow. 
“Indeed, my lord,” You muster. The chamber you stand in is spacious, slowly realizing that you are within his personal quarters—a place few may enter, as you understand it.
“Let’s test that out, shall we?” he says with a sinister smirk. “Do you know how to relieve muscle tension?”
“Certainly, my lord. Do you need any assistance with that?” You speak a little more than necessary. But he doesn’t mind too much. Your vocal cords make a soothing voice anyway. 
“I’d like to see what you're capable of,” he states, malice evident in his tone, prompting you to brace for the potential consequences.
He gestures for you to approach the curtained futon, elevated on what appears to be several stacks of wood. It feels peculiar to see him prone on his stomach, but it affords you an unmatched view of his well-defined back—truly a sight to see.
Whether he trusts you or deems you harmless remains uncertain. Common sense suggests the latter, though you prefer to believe the former to spare yourself from embarrassment.
A small bottle sits beside his bed, a bottle of fine oil. With refined movement, you pick it up, spilling a fair amount on your hand before spreading it gently over his back.
You work silently, kneading hardened flesh. His unique anatomy intrigues you, especially navigating around two sets of arms. Your fingers continue to glide between the muscles, working your way into easing any knots.
Once your fingers reach his neck, a low grunt leaves his lips. You’re surprised… But even more so, the feeling lingering deep within you is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Your thighs squeeze against each other in hopes of relieving some of the heat that’s itching at your core. 
With every stroke of your skilled fingertips, the tension threaded in his muscles ease, all the while the tension between the two of you grows unbearably palpable. 
After a few moments, you grow hot. you pause and slightly loosen the belt of your kosode to cool down. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna, who peeks upwards subtly. He has no shame, raising his head further and looking you up and down. The loosened kosode exposes cleavage, and Sukunua overtly stares.
He pushes himself up, sitting on the bed. Shadows of his frame dance against the curtains surrounding his bed, the room dimly lit by candles. Posture straight, an expression of attendance on your face, you keep your eyes on him and await what he has to say. 
You’re dangerous, Sukuna realizes. You’re not going to make this easy on him. His self-restraint is wearing thin.
“Sit,” He beckons you with a large hand. Albeit hesitant, you oblige and sit on the lifted futon in an awkward position.
There is no denying the way his gaze makes you feel. There’s a sense of vulnerability, and a sense of excitement. You choose to remain silent, waiting patiently for his next move. 
Slowly, he leans his head in your way. Your eyes immediately flit away, heat rising into your face.
“Heh,” He smirks widely, leaning away. “You’re quite amusing, you know that?”
You grow embarrassed, displeased by the way he’s talking. You’re about to comment but ultimately choose to stop yourself from saying something that could get you in trouble.
Sukuna leans forward again, this time a little further from you. The hand he places on the bed for balance dips the fabric down. “Look at me when I address you, human.”
It’s humiliating how he talks to you. For some inexplicable reason, it arouses you all the same. You’re quick to oblige. Sukuna can feel his cock harden in his pants at the way you bat your lashes his way. He knew there was something so enticing about you the moment he saw you walking behind Uraume, even more now under the dim lights and in the revealing silk. He wants a piece of you.
Cancel that. He wants all of you.
“You have a pleasing appearance,” He tells you, eyes instinctively falling to your lips. “A fine figure too. Why don’t you put that to good use, hm?”
“What would you suggest, my lord?” You rouse. “I’m at your service.”
Sukunas face draws closer to yours once more. A single hand rises to your face, cradling your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “Interesting… You’re not dumb, are you?”
There’s a clear implication behind his words; take the hint, or don’t. You take a leap of faith, diminishing the space between your faces and pressing your lips firmly against his.
The hand that once held your face now rests on your neck, holding you in place. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, prompting you to give him entrance. He keeps his eyes open, watching over you with amusement you fail to see as your eyes are shut close.
Your mouth is warm and inviting, compelling him to savor every bit of the fiber inside. But he’s interrupted by you pulling away for air.
“Fucking brat,” he curses, pulling you back in before you can gasp another much-needed breath. His palm falls from your neck and skims the skin of your shoulder. In contrast to his typical demeanor, Sukuna’s movement is agonizingly slow as he pushes the cloth off your skin. Little by little, until your torso is exposed to the biting chill of the air, shivers cascade along your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your flesh.
Adrenaline rushes through your veins. Your heart throbs as your hands find his neck, the other on his shoulder. Closer. Your tongues dance, and the taste of you is addicting. Closer. His hands run over your bare skin, feeling up your curves. Closer. Nothing seems to be close enough. You need to be one with him.
Once content, Sukuna pulls away. The smirk on his face is enough reminder you’ve got nothing on him. “You’re weak.”
“‘M not,” you retort stubbornly, struggling to regain your breath. “You caught me off guard.”
“Yeah, right,” Sukuna’s hands fall to your hips. You would have never foreseen a scenario where you contest his words. Not without your head cut off before you completely utter your words. But this brazen attitude of yours is exciting to Sukuna, who can feel the pre staining his pants, cock now painfully hard. Just from kissing.
He maneuvers you with ease, leaning comfortably against the wall before placing you over his middle. You gasp once moved, eyes wide in surprise. You give no signs of struggle, though, so Sukuna continues.
Starting with the loosened belt, then the silk kosode. You’re bare under, left exposed to four eyes’ devouring gaze.
“Heh,” is what he says, feeling your wetness against his abdomen. “Is the wanted criminal so needy already? How sweet.” 
“I’m quite sure you share the desire, my lord,” you whisper, drawing a chuckle from him. You bend forward until your face hovers tantalizingly close to his ear.“Do you not want a taste of me, my lord? I can show you what no woman has ever done.”
While the title ‘my lord’ has come from many to him, it rolls off your tongue differently. You’re so confident in your skills, and he has a feeling you’re not lying.
“I very much doubt that,” he lies, causing you to pucker your lower lip in disdain. You’re set on proving him wrong, prepared to showcase the extent of your capabilities.
Lifting your weight from his form, you turn around and give him your back. He stares down at you, an amorous grin adorning his face. Delicately, you trace your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. There is no mistaking the grunt that escapes him at the contact. The bulge largens. The tension grows. You swallow quietly.
“May I?” You whisper, barely audible.
“By all means,” he responds, his smirk persisting despite the furrow in his brow. Tender fingers slip beneath the waistband of his pale trousers, gradually coaxing them downward.  
The sight makes you stop in your tracks; his cock springs to life, a lengthy shaft you’re not so sure you can take. The thought of going back on your words fleets momentarily across your mind, but you refrain. There’s svelteness to the way your fingers graze this tip, tinted with an angry pink. You spread the warm pre-cum over it for lubrication, softly pumping your hands over his shaft.
Surprise intensifies in you when it grows larger, making your insides churn. Your fingers continue their work, eliciting louder sounds from him.
You’re fascinated by it, a beautiful length framed by trimmed pubes. It starts with a color marginally darker than his skin, gradually merging into the angry pink hue that tints his tip. You can’t not stare.
You turn back around, looking at the man sitting before you. The King of Curses with all his mind with a troubled expression, his resolve long worn off.
“You’re taking too long,” He threatens. “Get on it already, woman.”
No less is expected from the King of Curses; he’s straightforward as one could be. A yelp escapes your lips when his hands land a firm grip on your hips, forcefully lifting you up.
You’re placed on his length without any warning, causing a loud cry to break out of you. Tears gather in your eyes at the sudden stretch. You feel him, all of him; thick and long and painful and good.
Drawing a sharp breath, you attempt to adjust to the stretch.
“Can’t take it?” His smirk taunts you. “Pathetic.” 
“I-I can,” you steady yourself with two palms against the curves of his abs. “Let me get- ah–!”
Your moan synchronizes with the groan he emits, his hands maintaining a firm grasp on your ass cheeks as he lifts you upwards for friction before abruptly slamming you back down. The way your gummy walls wrap tight around him nearly makes him dizzy. Sukuna is almost sure this pussy was made for him and only him.
“Fuck–” he grunts, head thrown back as you move steadily. His hand grabs your waist for guidance as you huff and puff, trying not to be too loud but it’s so hard when he hits all the right places. Your heart thrums in your chest, body shaking at the euphoria that’s clouding your senses.
There’s rhythm to the sounds of breathing, creating a symphony of pleasure as you roll your hips, pace fastening every second. Sukuna’s hand is light against your hip, a thumb extending to rub your clit in a gentle manner, drawing circles over the soft bud.
“Oh– M’lord– I’m..” words bleed into moans you can no longer contain. Every thrust hits deeper, and every movement makes you squeeze tighter around his cock. Your eyes roll back, and Sukuna swears he could get off to your expression alone. 
When a cold grip meets the writ of one of his lower arms, Sukuna’s eyes flee your face in curiosity. His hand is heavier than you expect. You softly raise his palm, desperately leaving it at your neck.
He chuckles. He loves the desperation in your eyes, the way your hips thrust sloppily, the way you claw at his chest for a symbol of control as you try your best to stay true to your words. Warm digits wrap around your neck and squeeze it lightly. 
“C’mere,” he breathes, pulling you by your neck. Your lips clash into his with a gasp. God, you’re intoxicating him. Teeth tug at your bottom lip despite your mouth being agape. The moan that escapes you is happily drank down by him.
Humidity clouds the place, shiny sweat dripping down your neck. You’re in too much ecstasy to think anyway.
Sukuna sucks at your bottom lip, his hand moving from your neck to cradle the back of your head then tug at your hair.
You’re magic, the sight of you inebriating him utterly. You’re a trigger, back arched towards him in desperation. All to feel more. How greedy. You’re deadly, bouncing on him like that’s what you were made for, resolve renewing to keep up for as long as you could.
“Fuck- attagirl,” his eyes shut, dopamine rises, and all he can do is feel. “Good- shit– yeah, yeah–”
“‘M close-” your moan is pitched, walls tightening around him. “Ah– I’m– ‘m so close-”
Your entire body shakes, legs trembling and nearly giving out. A harsh slap lands across the skin on your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh before landing another slap against it. You can still feel the heat of his palm even as he moves it to hold your face harshly. “Don’t be fucking weak. H-shit–”
It turns you on, he realizes. To be treated like a ragdoll and pushed around. 
“Like that huh?” another spank. “Like being hit? Tch, wh-what a fucking brat”
“Yes–!” You gasp, movement accelerating over him, drawing half of him out just to enroll him in your warmth again. He can sense your orgasm approaching, walls dangerously tight around him. His tip hits your good spot, and you go at it and at it again, moaning loudly as your nails bruise his chest.
A string of curses escapes his lips, neck stretched as your head inches closer, pressing a kiss to the skin. He groans louder, moving you faster on his dick as your pace wasn’t enough.
“Hah– I– I’m gonna– Sukuna-sama I—”
Your mouth falls open, and breath fast. You see stars, cumming all over him. The fiber of your insides pulses around him, surrounding his cock with your essence. 
Nails dig into your flesh, and Sukuna’s body tenses. A desperate whine escapes you when you feel the white ropes spilling inside you. Your movement persists, set on milking every last drop he has to offer.
His chest rises and falls, a palm coming to cover his face while another pair sits on your hips. You attempt to move, trying to pull yourself off his cock. But his hands pull you back down with potent. You’ve grown sensitive, so his action draws a loud whine from you.
“Where to?” He sneers at you. “You’re not done yet, are you? ‘This all you can do?”
It’s an obvious challenge. Despite the fatigue you’re starting to feel, you’re not one to back down from challenges. Least of all ones pronounced by him.
2K notes · View notes
parkerslatte · 2 months
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Uncertain Bonds
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: none
Summary: While posing as a couple at a high end event on a small kingdom the Night Court is supposed to make an alliance with, Y/N and Azriel uncover some shady business and need to act quickly to avoid getting caught.
Prompt(s): 4.Pretending to be in a relationship for a mission/ event. 31. "They're looking. Kiss me now." 16. Character A pushes B against a wall to kiss them. 29. “Do you think they bought the act?" "While I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey."
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
Azriel took a glass of wine from the serving table and brought it to his lips. He never took a sip as he surveyed the room. Everyone was dressed in extravagant gowns and danced around the room happily. So far, nothing seemed to be amiss. 
“You do realise that standing in a dark corner staring at people intensely may be a cause for concern, right?” Y/N said, sauntering up to Azriel. 
As he turned to look at her, Azriel felt himself become weak at the knees as he took her in. The dress she wore was one he has seen a couple of times before. She mainly wore it to Starfall or some other event. Though Azriel remembered her wearing it the day she bought it. That was the day the mating bond snapped for him. And it was the day he began to avoid Y/N. 
At first his avoidance wasn’t intentional. The first time he excused himself from her was just after the bond snapped and he was dealing with the shock of finding his mate. Someone he never thought he would find; he had never expected to find his mate within his best friend, the one he had loved for centuries. Everything overwhelmed him and the more he felt the bond, the more he unintentionally avoided Y/N. 
Up until he was asked to join her on her mission. 
“You know this isn’t the usual work I do,” Azriel said, taking a sip of his wine. Normally he would never drink while doing a job, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed it to help him relax in Y/N’s presence. 
“I know that, my love, but you need to relax tonight,” Y/N said, stepping closer to him, gently taking the glass of wine from his grasp. “Loosen up a little.”
Y/N took a sip before placing the glass down on the nearby table. She leaned up to whisper in Azriel’s ear. “If you don’t relax, people will begin to suspect.”
Y/N’s scent sent Azriel’s senses into overdrive as her perfume seemed to surround him. There was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to wrap her up and take her right there in front of everyone, claim her as his own. Azriel knew that it was just the bond talking— the desire talking— but the image did cross his mind. 
Before Azriel even had the chance to say anything, Y/N pulled away and took Azriel’s hand in hers. “Now come and dance with your wife.” 
Oh, how Azriel wished that were true. 
Y/N led him onto the dance floor and positioned their arms herself. Azriel remained rigid as people surrounding them stared for a moment too long. Of course they did. After all, Azriel was the only one in the whole building who had a pair of wings sprouting from his back. 
Y/N giggled at Azriel’s rigid position. “You can relax a little more than that, Az.”
“I can’t,” Azriel replied. “We aren’t here to dance. We are here to do a job.”
A small frown appeared on Y/N’s face for a brief moment but it was gone and quickly replaced by an easy smile. “This is my job, Azriel.” Y/N began to slowly lead the dance. Azriel followed in step, though not as graceful as Y/N. “I don’t keep to the shadows and watch. I get involved and listen.”
“That is not how I do things,” Azriel replied
“No it’s not,” Y/N said. “But this is my mission, not yours. I am in charge.”
Azriel sighed. “I know. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”
Instead of the forced smile, Azriel saw that it was replaced by a small genuine smile. He felt his heart skip a beat. “I know,” she replied. “But you know that if anything were to go wrong, I will have your back and I know that you will have mine. That is the way it has always been.”
“And it always will be,” Azriel finished. 
Y/N’s eyes lit up and her grip tightened on him as they spun around the ballroom. “What happened to us, Az?”
Azriel frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
For a split second, Y/N looked down at the floor between them and stumbled over her feet. Azriel quickly stopped and steadied her. 
“Perhaps your little girlfriend there should lay off of the wine,” a woman near the sneered as Y/N gently knocked into her. 
Azriel growled in her direction. The woman backed away quickly. 
“Az,” Y/N said, gaining his attention again. “Let us go to the side of the ballroom, perhaps it will be better for us.”
Azriel wrapped an arm around her waist and walked with her to the side of the ballroom, standing near another couple talking quietly to one another. As they neared them, the couple looked at the two as if studying both Y/N and Azriel. 
Azriel simply ignored them. 
“What I meant by my words, Az, was why haven’t we been as close over the past year? You have barely even looked in my direction and when we are alone you always find an excuse to cut out conversation short. You were meant to be my best friend, you seem to not want that anymore.”
No. Azriel didn’t want to be best friends anymore. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to love Y/N freely. He wanted to kiss her. To hug her. To be with her every waking moment of the day. He was made to be with her. He wanted to be her mate. He wanted to be her husband. The ring on his finger used to keep up appearance felt so foreign but felt so right. The pair to it on Y/N’s finger. Azriel only wished it was real. 
All he wanted was her, but he couldn’t express that to her. 
“I do want that,” Azriel said. “I will always want that.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?” Y/N questioned. “You even asked if Cassian could come on this mission instead.”
Azriel sighed and looked around the room. “Look, Y/N I will tell you—“
Azriel cut himself off as he noticed the couple they had stood next to secretly slip out of the room and through the servants passage. “That couple is gone.”
“You think there’s a possibility that they are who we’re after?” Y/N asked, suddenly switching to her professional mindset. 
“We were told that they were young,” Azriel said. “So far they seem like the ones who fit the description the most.��� 
“Let me slip out first,” Y/N said. “Follow me after.”
As Y/N went to walk away, Azriel gently took her hand in his. “Be careful,” he said. 
Y/N offered him a small smile. “I always am.”
Y/N slipped away and Azriel watched her, sending a shadow to wrap around her arm to keep an eye on her. Even though he was going to catch up to her quite soon, he wanted a piece of him with her to make sure she would be okay. 
Y/N slipped out and Azrie remained by the wall for a few moments longer. No one else in the entire room seemed to pay any attention. Azriel slowly made his way out into the servants passage. Still there was no one looking his way. Azriel slipped into the passage. 
It was dimmer in the passage but the moment Azriel’s eyes found Y/N, his heart yearned for her. In the dim lighting, she seemed to shine as the light hit her jewellery and dress. She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She looked ethereal. 
“Az,” Y/N whispered. “They didn’t go too far. Come on.”
Azriel and Y/N walk a little further down the passage until they turn a corner. The passage opened up to the main hall just off from the ballroom. 
“They went through the door there,” Y/N whispered. 
The two stood just outside of the door, just about hearing what the two were discussing inside. 
“The funds are paid in full,” the female said. “There shouldn’t be a problem sending them though now.”
The male seemed to sigh. “Do you know how long I have waited for those funds? Do you know how long I have been lying to my father because you didn’t do your job properly and allowed someone to get away with the entire kingdom’s fortune.”
“These things take time!” The female exclaimed. “I had a hard time trying to track down the one who stole from you father.”
“Eight months,” the male replied. “It took you eight months. My father needed those funds. That court in Prythian has been questioning where all of their trade deals are. Do you know how much my father had lied because of what you did? He’s afraid it will cause a war and you know that we do not have the army to back us up. We barely have the funds because of you.”
“I’m sorry!” The female cried. 
“I take it we found the reason why all of the trade has stopped suddenly,” Y/N whispered. 
“But can we get back to where we were before all of this happened?” The female begged. “I love you!”
The male didn’t reply. “I don’t think that is a possibility. You have betrayed my father therefore you have betrayed me. You are lucky I am not banishing you for what you did.”
“Please!” The female cried. 
“No,” the male replied. “Anything that was between us is over. I will tell my father the truth of what happened and that he can now send his trade deals again. Be lucky that the court in Prythian decided not to send anyone here. You know their reputation.”
Footsteps approached the door and Azriel and Y/N began to panic. There was nowhere to hide. Azriel frantically looked around the hall and there was a small alcove. He wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her into it. Her back pressed tightly against his front. 
Azriel could feel all of her pressing against him. Her soft skin against his. The scent of her shampoo wafting up to his nose. The slope of her neck enticing Azriel to press his lips against it. 
The door opened and two footsteps came out onto the stone floor. Y/N held her breath and pressed her body further into Azriel’s. As she did so, her hand accidentally brushed the sensitive skin of his wing. Azriel jerked. 
A small vase to the side of Azriel fell from the ornate stone podium it sat on, cracking on the floor.
Everything stilled. 
“Who's there?” The male asked. 
Y/N turned around to look at Azriel, her eyes wide in panic. 
“I know your there,” the male said and Azriel realised that he had caught sight of the edge of his wings. 
Y/N, seemingly realising the same thing as Azriel whispered; “They’re looking. Kiss me now.”
“What?” Azriel whispered. He knew exactly what Y/N and said but he needed that second confirmation. 
“Kiss me,” Y/N said. 
Not wasting a moment longer, Azriel surged forward and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. They were just as he imagined. Soft, slightly sticky from her lip gloss, but Azriel didn’t care. He needed more. 
He spun the two around and pressed her against the wall kissing her even harder. Pressing his body against hers. His hand pressed between the wall and her head to not harm her. 
Y/N’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands. Azriel couldn’t help but moan deeply. Y/N only smiled against his lips. 
Azriel couldn’t get enough of her feel. He wished he could stay like this for eternity. He pulled away slightly. “Jump.”
Y/N did as he commanded and jumped up to wrap her legs around his hips. The slit in her dress made it easy. His hand found her thigh and squeezed it tightly before moving to her ass and it remained there. 
Azriel pressed his lips against hers, feeling himself harden in his trousers. The need to have her had taken over. 
His lips left Y/N’s lips and trailed down her neck, slightly nibbling the sensitive skin. 
“Az…” Y/N whined. 
Her hips seemed to move as she gained more friction. 
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Azriel panted against her skin, placing open Luther kisses against the base of her throat. 
Azriel gripped her hair and pulled her head back, allowing him more access. Y/N only pulled on him in return. Azriel smirked against her neck. 
In their lust filled haze, Azriel and Y/N forgot about the two figures standing just behind them. The male cleared his throat. 
“Excuse me?” The male spoke up. 
Azriel felt as if he were doused in cold water as he pulled away from Y/N’s neck to look over his shoulder. 
“What?” Azrie growled, annoyed that he was interrupted. 
The female’s face was bright red as she looked between Y/N and Azriel. 
“I will return to the ballroom,” the female said, clearly flustered. She left rather quickly. 
The male remained, his eyes narrowed. 
Y/N smirked. “You can join us if you want? Sometimes it takes more than one male to satisfy me.”
Azriel’s hand squeezed Y/N’s ass possessively as the male simply scoffs and walks away. Neither Azriel nor Y/N moved until they were sure they were alone. 
“Do you think they bought the act?” Y/N asked. 
“When I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey,” Azriel replied. 
Y/N laughed. “Back with the pet names? Perhaps I have my best friend back after all.”
Azriel smiled before it fell away. Best friend. What they just did was not what best friends do. But like Y/N said— it was just an act. 
 “Would you mind letting me down?” Y/N asked. 
“Oh,” Azriel said. “Of course.”
Y/N’s legs unwrapped from Azriel’s hips and he helped her to the floor. Her hands lingered for a brief moment but Azriel thought they imagined it. 
“Well we have our information now,” Y/N said. “Looks like there was nothing nefarious going on. Just someone not doing their job properly.”
“I don’t understand why the king didn’t write to Rhys,” Azriel said. “He would and helped.”
“Yes but a king admitting his fortune was stolen can cause a dent in his ego,” Y/N replied. “Looks like we are not needed here anymore.”
“Seems like it,” Azriel replied, a sense of disappointment washing over him at the fact that the fake rings on their fingers would be taken off the moment they returned home. 
“We paid for the room in the city for another two nights,” Y/N said. “It would be a shame if the money would go to waste. We could perhaps stay a little longer. Make a small holiday out of it.”
“But we need to report this to Rhys,” Azriel said. 
The disappointment was apparent on Y/N’s face. “You’re right. We should just pack and get back home.”
As she turned to walk down the hall, Azriel took her arm. “Or maybe we can stay for the extra two nights. We haven’t had a chance to look around yet.”
Y/N’s face lit up. “Are you being serious?”
Azriel smiled. He couldn’t help it, her joy was infectious. “Deadly.”
***
It was late at night and Azriel laid in his bed looking at the ceiling. Y/N was sitting by the fireplace reading a book. The room they had book was the last one available at the inn. And with only one bed it was even more of a predicament. 
For the two nights they had been here already, Y/N had slept in the armchair by the fire. Azriel had offered but he simply couldn’t get comfortable with his wings. Guiltily, he had taken the bed. And even then, the bed was simply too small. 
Azriel sat up and looked at Y/N. Her hair was simply tied back and hung down her back and her face was devoid of the gold makeup she had worn earlier in the day. She was wearing simple sleepwear and slippers on her feet. Even if she was beautiful back at the ballroom, she was even more beautiful now. 
Since they had returned to the inn, Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss in the hall. If they hadn’t been interrupted, what would have happened? Would he have told Y/N that he was her mate? Would he have confessed his love for her? Azriel wasn’t sure but he was sure that Y/N had enjoyed what had happened. 
He didn’t mention it to her but he could smell her arousal the whole time when they retired to the inn. The scent had gotten fainter as the night progressed but it still lingered in the air. 
Y/N turned the page as Azriel stood up from the bed. “I’m taking a walk.”
“Avoiding me again,” Y/N said. 
“What?” Azriel asked. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N said. “I was only joking.”
The comment might have been a joke to Y/N but to Azriel it wasn’t. He was avoiding her. And he was avoiding his own feelings. Perhaps he should come clean. But there was that possibility that she would reject him. Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to survive that. 
“Az, you were going for a—“
“I love you,” Azriel confessed and felt a large weight lift from his shoulders. 
Y/N laughed a little. “You don’t need to pretend right now. No one is here to see.”
“I’m not pretending, Y/N,” Azriel said. “I love you. I am in love with you.”
Y/N frowned and Azriel dreaded her response. This was the moment she rejected him. 
“Are you being serious, Az?” Y/N asked
“I am,” Azriel said. “I have been in love with you since the moment I met you, Y/N. That kiss earlier. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Feeling you pressed so close to me. Feeling your lips against mine. Hearing you moan my name. It is the only thing that has been on my mind since we left the palace. I don’t think I can keep my feelings a secret anymore.”
“Az,” Y/N began and Azrie prepared himself for the worst. 
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either,” Y/N admitted. “I’ve been sitting here reading for over an hour and I have managed about three pages. I cannot concentrate on anything that isn’t you.”
Azriel held onto that small bit of hope within him. “Why do you keep thinking about it?”
Y/N sighed, though it sounded happy. “I can’t stop thinking about it because I have been hoping to kiss you for many years now.”
“What?”
Y/N giggled and it was music to Azriel’s ears. “Your feelings are not one sided, Azriel.”
“Please say what you mean, Y/N. I need to hear it,” Azriel said, his voice breathless. 
“I love you, Az,” Y/N admitted. “I just never thought you returned those feelings because I believed you to be in love with Mor.”
Azriel let out a sigh of relief. “I stopped loving Mor centuries ago. In fact ever since you walked into my life I haven’t even thought about Mor at all. You are constantly on my mind, Y/N. You have a home in my mind and I can never rid myself of you even if I wanted to.”
“Why did you never tell me?” Y/N asked, standing from the settee and walking over to Azriel. “Why have you been avoiding me this past year?” Y/N gently caressed his cheek. 
“I never thought you were in love with me, I didn’t want to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t feel the same. I would rather be friends than lose you completely,” Azriel said. 
“But that doesn’t explain why you avoided me.” 
Azriel leaned into Y/N’s touch. Placing his hand over the one that resided on his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. “Feel it, Y/N. Allow yourself to feel it. Open yourself up to it.”
Y/N closed her eyes and it wasn’t long before Azriel felt a warmth flood his body. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, shock resided within them. 
“You’re my mate?” Y/N said. 
“Yes I am,” Azriel said. “The reason why I avoided you was because the bond snapped for me a year ago. I never thought I had a mate. I’ve been alive for centuries and I’d given up hope. But when it snapped for you, I was overwhelmed by it. At first I was happy but I didn’t think you returned my feelings so that is why I began to avoid you. I was always overwhelmed by you. Your scent. Your laugh. Your touch. I would have never been able to control myself. I never wanted to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t return them and I didn’t want you to only develop them because of the bond. If your ever loved me, I only wanted you to fall for me naturally.”
Y/N’s eyes softened. “And I did.” 
Azriel smiled. “And I am glad you did.”
“Az,” Y/N said. “Please just kiss me. I need to feel you again.”
Azriel took no time and pressed his lips against hers. It started out gentle but soon the hunger and the pull of the bond changed it into something different. Something feral. 
Y/N backed Azriel up to the bed and as he sat, she straddled his hips, pressing her core against him. Azriel groaned into her mouth. 
“Perhaps,” Y/N said, panting, “we should invite that male to join us.”
Azriel growled and flipped their positions. Y/N now spread out on the bed below him, her hair fanned out on the pillow. 
“You’re mine,” Azriel said, kissing across her jaw. 
“Good, I don’t want to be anyone else’s.”
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fawnindawn · 5 months
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the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)
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Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.
pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader
Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff
masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!
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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."
"I told you, I know nothing, and even if I did- patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.
Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.
Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.
Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.
_
It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had snuck into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence.
Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.
"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."
Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they end up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from its bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.
Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?
You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.
The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.
"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.
He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.
"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."
With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.
"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.
"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.
You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.
You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.
"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.
After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."
You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.
You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.
"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"
You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.
Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"
He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.
You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.
His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.
"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."
Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.
Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.
You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"
He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."
He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."
You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"
You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.
"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"
"I do not."
"Do too."
"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."
"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"
"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.
"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."
"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."
"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."
"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."
Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.
"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.
"What?"
"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."
Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.
"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar on my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.
You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."
"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."
He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.
You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.
"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."
"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."
Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?
Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.
"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.
"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”
He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.
"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.
"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."
He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."
You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."
He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"
"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."
"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."
"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"
"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.
"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."
"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."
You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"
He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
_
"What are you smiling about?"
You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.
"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."
"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."
He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."
You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.
"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."
He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."
You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.
a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.
taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina
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mischieveousmayhem · 6 months
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Ummi, come back
Pairing: Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mention of death
Synopsis: All he wants is his mom, without her he is falling apart.
a/n: pretty short, my requests are open.
THE MASTERLIST
Damian Wayne, a tough kid.
He gets it from his father of course.
But lately he feels like he hasn't been so tough. Which is okay right? Even the toughest people have weaknesses. But this felt worse then any weakness.
It's been a week since he saw the suffering of his dearest mother. He just needed some of her soothing words, or to break down in her warm, comforting embrace. Although if she was here, he wouldn't need that. If she was here, they would probably be on the couch watching some of her favorite movies, or baking cookies with his fellow brothers.
Y/N wasn't his real mom though. Talia was.
But that didn't matter to you or him. That reason being because you treated him better than Talia ever would.
Even though he didn't like you at first, he learned to love you. You had the sweetest heart ever and you cared for him and his fellow brothers like they were your own kids. Scratch that. They were your real kids even if it wasn't biologically. Blood wasn't what made them your children, it was the memories and love.
Secretly Damian was a mama's boy and whenever you two were alone he would show that. Without his mother he is so lost. Of course he has his father, Bruce. But nothing can replace a mother's tender, delicate love.
So alone he sat, in the garden, watching the sunset. In his hands was a picture of your family. You, Bruce, and the boys. The photo was taken at the first dinner after you and Bruce got married. It was so chaotic, but none of you would have changed it for the world because it was one of the families happiest moments. But lately there has been no happiness. You were their ray of sunshine, you gave the boys everything they could ask for to make them happy.
The sunset, the thing that reminds him of his mother. It was beautiful, just like you. But the thing that really made him get reminded of you was the fact you used to sit on this bench together and watch the sunset.
His eyes are red and puffy. Not to mention he is still crying while watching it, missing you so much.
"Oh Ummi," He spoke, "Come back."
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peachsukii · 2 months
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₊✩‧₊ ⎯ hearts in the sand
content // tooth-rotting marriage fluff. talks of children hinted at. inspired by this TikTok. ((the Olympian who lost his ring in the river in France)) and happy softie sunday! <3
wc // 0.8k
『 k.bakugo masterlist | caramel & champagne series 』
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It’s a quiet night at home, a kitten in your lap with a cup of tea and your favorite reality TV show to wind down the evening. Your phone begins buzzing on the couch repeatedly with rapid fire notifications, startling your cat from his slumber and interrupting your show. Annoyed, you finally pick it up to silence the notifications until you see the multiple headlines that catch your attention.
“Dynamight Saves Dozens But Loses Precious Item”
“Dynamight Loses Treasure on the Beach during Villain Fight”
“…the hell?” You mutter aloud as the sound of heavy footsteps approach the front door before it swings open. Bakugo’s got his mask tucked up into his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples and dripping from his jaw. He’s still fully dressed in his hero attire, huffing frantically while accidentally slamming the door behind him.
“Is…everything okay?” You ask, confused and somewhat frightened. Phoenix jumps from your lap and moves to the opposite side of the couch.
“I…I fucked up,” Bakugo pants, hand on the wall to steady himself. “M’sorry, peach. It was an accident.”
“What was?” At this point, you assume he killed someone and is about to ask you to help him bury the body. “Spit it out, Katsuki. You’re scaring me.”
He sighs before wiping away the sweat from his nose, head hung low with a frown on his face. “I lost my wedding ring.”
Oh...That’s it?
“It’s alright, we can get another one.”
Bakugo’s taken aback by your nonchalant answer. He’s not one to lose things, especially extremely important ones that he’d crawl through hell to keep. He gives you the typical ‘hah?’ reaction, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"Sweets...I don't want another one, I want that one."
You shake your head while tossing your phone back onto the couch. “It’s not like you meant to lose it, you’re a hero. Shit happens, it’s out of your control.”
"I should'a been more careful. Dunno how the chain broke and fell out of my costume."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say as you get up from the couch. "It's not like you tossed it in the ocean on purpose."
Bakugo scoffs. "How stupid could I be?! Already can't wear it on duty cause of my quirk, and nothin' will replace your handwriting etched inside it." He starts rambling, getting too worked up to notice you getting closer. "What kind of husband can't even keep track of his wedding ring? A shitty one, that's who. God, if I didn't⎯"
You cut him off with a soft kiss, arms gently wrapped around his waist. He melts into you, hands instinctually settling at the small of your back to keep you close. All the anxiety evaporates at your touch as his shoulders deflate. When you part, he lays his forehead against yours, eyes softening when they meet your own.
"Katsuki, you are the furthest thing from a bad husband," you scold, playfully pinching his side while maintaining eye contact. "Never, ever, say that again. You're the epitome of my perfect husband and that's all that matters."
It never ceases to amaze Bakugo just how quickly you defuse his insecurities and replace them with sweet nothings that make his heart flutter.
"I've got an idea that you might hate," you say, bringing a hand to his cheek. "Why don't I toss mine in with yours? That way they're together. Then, we go ahead and renew our vows like we wanted to and buy new rings together."
Speechless.
Bakugo is actually speechless.
He goes to say something, but each time, comes up short on how to properly express how much it means to him that you'd do something so drastic to make him happy. Instead, he tugs you into a tight embrace, squeezing you tighter than usual.
"Peaches, ya don't have to do that," he whispers over your shoulder, hushed and emotional. "Don't want you to risk losing somethin' so special just cause I did."
"I know it's sentimental, but it's only a material thing. My love isn't tied to one piece of jewelry, Katsuki, it's tied to your heart. You can't replace that, no matter how many rings we rotate through."
How'd he get so lucky? Bakugo truly doesn't know what good karmic deeds he's done to deserve someone as angelic as you, but he never takes it for granted.
"Got another idea," he says, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "Keep that one here, save it for a rainy day for the future. We renew our vows, get new rings together, and I get my ring finger tattooed. Can't lose that."
"Only if I can, too." You laugh, giving him an exaggerated kiss in response. "Save it for the future, huh?"
Bakugo blushes, grunting shyly as he rolls his eyes. "Y-yeah, you know...could give it to our kid or somethin' in the future for themselves or to give away."
"Aww, love when you get all mushy about the future," you tease, pulling his face down to leave a peck to his cheek.
"Just love you, peach. S'all it comes down to."
He's right, that's all it comes down to at the end of the day; love.
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((general idea for the ring tattoos <3))
⇢ subscribers; @sunflowers-4 @sweetloveandaffection @sugurei @jenn-majima @bkgpackets @notnightmarefuel
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autistichalsin · 6 months
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Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin
1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.
2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s
3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?
4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.
5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )
6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.
7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(
8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.
9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.
10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.
11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(
12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(
13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.
14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).
15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.
Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(
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waitimcomingtoo · 3 months
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The Way That You Were
Pairing: fratboy!Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: you and Peter reunite at a college party and discover he is no longer the sweet nerd you knew in high school
Masterlist
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“I’m gonna pee.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Your friend asked you over the sound of the music of the party.
“I’ll be fine. But hold my drink, please.” You kindly requested and handed her your red solo cup.
“Have fun.” She called after you as you left for the bathroom. You adjusted your dress and leaned against the wall as you waited on the bathroom line. You looked around the frat house you were in and decided the walls were not actually something you wanted to lean against.
“God damn. If your ass blew me away I cannot wait to see your face.” A voice suddenly came from behind you. You scrunched your face in disgust and turned around to see who the voice belonged to. Your eyes met a boy in a backwards hat with curls spilling out of it on either side. But what made you lose your breath was the fact that you recognized the eyes staring back at you. The smug grin on the boys face instantly dropped when he recognized you as well.
“Peter? Peter Parker?” You asked and felt your heart ache just a little. You both slowly processed what he had just said and he turned a bright red.
“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“My friend invited me. What were you saying about my face?” You asked and folded your arms.
“Nothing. Something stupid.” He said quickly before breaking into a smile. He suddenly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. You blinked in surprise and hesitantly patted his back.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He said into your ear.
“Neither can I.” You laughed dryly as you pulled out of the hug. You stepped back and took a moment to take him in. His arms were much bigger than you remembered from back in high school and you had a full view of them in his white cut off tank top. Everything about his outfit was different from his typical style, down to the shoes he was wearing. You would’ve thought he was wearing a costume if he didn’t look so natural.
“God, look at you.” He sighed as he looked you up and down. A dopey smile remained on his face and he shook his head as if he trying to shake a thought out of his mind.
“Me? Look at you. You look so different. What are you doing at a party like this?” You wondered.
“Oh, this is my frat house. We throw parties like this every weekend.” He replied and you laughed. He didn’t laugh with you and you realized he wasn’t joking.
“You live here?“ You asked as your eyes darted to the poster of a girl in a bikini riding a beer can barely covering a hole in the wall.
“That’s not mine.” Peter said quickly.
“The hole or the poster?”
“Can I get you a drink?” He asked to change the subject.
“I’m kinda waiting for something.” You laughed awkwardly and nodded towards the bathroom door.
“After? I’ll wait.” He offered. He seemed very eager to talk to you and you couldn’t deny that you had been desperate to talk to him ever since you graduated high school.
“Okay.” You agreed. “Sure.”
“Wait, don’t use that bathroom. It’s probably disgusting. It’s actually most definitely disgusting. I have a bathroom in my room. It’s much cleaner. Come on.” He said and nodded towards the stairs.
“Oh. Okay.” You looked around at who was watching before following him up the stairs. You stayed close behind him until the two of you reached his bedroom. You would never normally follow a guy up to his bedroom at a party without telling anyone where you were going but you grew up with Peter so you trusted him. You entered his bedroom and you discreetly took a look around. You’d been to his apartment in high school and were saddened to see his posters of the periodic table and Star Wars were replaced with patched up holes in the wall and a poster of Goodfellas next to a tapestry that said “Saturdays are for boys” over an American flag.
“I’ll guard the door.” Peter told you as he showed you where the bathroom was.
“Thank you.” You shot him a smile before going inside. Peter’s bathroom was much more akin to the Peter you once knew. You smiled at the miscellaneous artifacts on his bathroom counter and did what you came to do before leaving.
“Hey.” You smiled awkwardly at him when you left the bathroom.
“Hey.” He smiled back. “I kinda can’t believe you just used my bathroom.”
“I kinda can’t believe you have pink hand towels and Darth Vader shampoo.”
“Hey, hey, hey. That’s not Darth Vader. It’s the Mandelorian.” He corrected. “And they’re only pink because I washed them with my Chiefs jersey.”
“You own a jersey?” You raised at eyebrow at him.
“I do now that Taylor Swift said it’s okay to watch football.”
“You still listen to Taylor?” You smiled in surprise.
“Obviously. I was listening to Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus while I pregamed for this party.”
“Jesus.” You chuckled. “Who hurt you?”
“I just like the line about wondering.” He laughed as well but didn’t meet your eyes.
“So do I.” You admitted and he finally looked at you. You shared a moment of lingering eye contact accompanied by a comfortable silence. He looked different, and not just because of his outfit. He looked older. His baby face had hardened and he looked more like a man now and not the boy you once knew. But as different as he was, his eyes were the same. So was his laugh. And despite the years that had gone by without you seeing each other, you slipped right back into your friendship.
“Can I make you that drink now?” Peter asked after a beat.
“Okay.” You smiled and he slung his arm around your shoulders.
“Stay close to me. The people that come to these parties haven’t had all their vaccines.” He whispered in your ear as he led you back downstairs.
“I will.” You laughed and felt relieved his sense of humor was still in tact. A few people from Peter’s school turned to look at the two of you as you made your way to the kitchen but Peter didn’t seem to notice.
“This is the kitchen. All the healthy cereals are mine.” Peter said proudly and pointed to a box of Mini Wheats on top of the refrigerator.
“By healthy do you mean the frosted strawberry Mini Wheats?”
“Those really hit after a nightmare.” He insisted. “Plus, strawberry is a fruit and wheat is good for you. God, what do they teach girls in school?”
“Not the important stuff, apparently.” You laughed and he smiled as he caught your eyes. He pulled out a fresh red solo cup and got some ice.
“Do you still like Shirley temples?” He asked you.
“Yeah. You remember that?”
“Of course I do. I remember making makeshift ones out of sprite and strawberry syrup at Ned’s Halloween party Junior year because you told me they were your favorite.”
“Those were not bad.” You recalled. “Or maybe they just tasted better because I was 17 and drunk for the first time.”
“That was my first time drinking too. White Claw does not taste as good on the way out as it does the way in.” Peter grimaced and grabbed a beer from the ice bucket on the counter. You watched him crack it open with ease and felt an ache of nostalgia for those few nights of getting drunk as teenagers off alcohol from 7/11 that someone’s older brother bought.
“But I see you’ve outgrown White Claw.”
“Yeah. My friends and I pretty much only drink beer.” Peter nodded and took a swig of it.
“Don’t you worry about getting a…” You trailed off when Peter lifted his shirt to wipe his mouth with, giving you a full view of his abdomen. Peter’s sweaters and nerdy t shirts never let on that he was carved by the gods underneath his clothing.
“Beer gut.” You barely got the words out and blinked a few times to get back into reality.
“I seriously can’t believe you’re here. I always wondered what happened to you after high school.” Peter admitted as he made your drink for you.
“I know. I dropped my phone on the subway tracks a few years back and got a new number. But I always wondered about you too.” You told him.
“You did?” He smiled in relief.
“Of course I did. I tried to find you on social media but I couldn’t find anything.
“Yeah. I never really got the hang of it. I did try to find you in a phone book once. But the librarian called me a nerd and told me to go back to the 90s.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“Well that wasn’t very nice of them.” You said.
“No it was not. So I am very pleased that I find you in my house tonight. That’s why I made you the most delicious Shirley Temple in the world.” Peter said and proudly held out the red solo cup.
“Oh, my. Thank you.” You giggled and accepted the cup from him. You took a sip and felt your eyes water.
“Jesus Christ. Is there any Sprite in here or just vodka?” You said through a cough.
“Sorry. That was out of habit. My boys and I are heavy pourers.” Peter sound genuinely apologized and added more Sprite to your cup to make it less strong.
“It’s all right.” You shrugged. “So I have to ask you, how come you’re no longer at MIT?”
Peter looked a little frightened when you mentioned MIT and quickly looked over his shoulder. He stepped closer to you and looked around again.
“I wasn’t happy there so I transferred last semester.” He said in a quiet voice.
“Why are we whispering?” You whispered back through a light laugh.
“People here don’t really know that I was like that.” He admitted and looked a little disappointed to even be saying it.
“Like what? Smart?” You asked at full volume. He looked around again and waved his hand in dismissal.
“I’m still smart. I just don’t let my boys know that.” He told you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise.
“Your boys?” You laughed dryly.
“You know. My frat brothers.” He explained and gestured to the party.
“Right, right. I think I met a few tonight when I walked in on their farting contest and they asked me to join. Do you still talk to Ned?”
“Oh, no.” Peter shook his head. “We kept in touch for a while after high school but we kinda fell off somewhere after I transferred here.”
“Wow, really? You guys were so close. I thought you’d be friends forever.”
“Yeah. I guess I did too.” Peter realized and stared down the barrel of his beer bottle.
“Are you still studying biochemistry?” You asked him. “It was biochemistry, right?”
“It was. But now I’m undeclared. I’m not really sure what I want to do anymore.”
“Really? But you’re so smart. You were the smartest guy I ever met. You still are.”
“I’m not that smart.” He laughed and shyly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yes you are.” You insisted. “You always knew the answer to every question before I even processed what was being asked.”
“You’re smart too. In an original way that I still think about.” He replied, catching you by surprise. You took a sip to your cup for a little bravery and looked into his eyes.
“You still think about me?” You asked him with a coy smile.
“I do. All the time.” He answered without breaking eye contact. You sucked in a sharp breath and he smirked before moving same hair off your forehead. His hand stayed on your face and you felt your heart rate start to pick up. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him, it was that you had always wanted to kiss him. Now that he was standing in front of you and it might actually happen, you felt too nervous.
“Where are your glasses?” You blurted and ruined the moment. Before Peter could respond, me of his frat brothers walked in and clapped Peter’s on the back.
“Glasses? What’s this bird talking about, Parker?” He asked as he slung an arm around Peter and roughed him up a little.
“Shut up, Flash. She’s not a bird. She’s my friend from high school.” Peter defended you angrily and pushed the boy off.
“Oh shit. This isn’t the chick you were in love with, is it?” Flash gasped and looked at you.
“Who were you in love with?” You immediately asked Peter and felt a little jealous bubble up inside you.
“No, dumb ass. That was a different girl. This is Y/n. Don’t call her a chick either. Thats just another kind of bird.” Peter grumbled. Flash gave you an unapologetic once over before smirking.
“Nice to meet you, sweetie. I’m Flash. I hope you’re enjoying the party. But I do have to ask that you keep it down later because my room is right next to his and I have an 8 am class tomorrow.”
“Don’t, man.” Peter warned.
“Keep what down?” You wondered.
“Well, you know. Parker has girls in there so often I had to start charging them rent. Especially because they drink all the orange juice in the morning. And they tend to keep me up all night due to all the bed squeaking, so I ask that you’re considerate of the class I have tomorrow.” Flash said to you. You gulped and looked to Peter for an explanation, but Peter was busy glaring at Flash.
“Shut the fuck up, okay? Like you even go to class.” Peter scoffed. “Get out of here. Go drink some water. And take a bath. You stink.”
“All right. Just go easy on her, okay Parker? She seems like a nice girl. She deserves to be able to walk out of here in the morning.” Flash clapped him on the back again and you let out a shocked laugh.
“Fuck off. Now.” Peter demanded. Flash held up his hands and shot you a wink before walking away. You looked to Peter for an explanation for what just occurred. You have never heard him swear before and definitely never heard him get angry with someone like that. You also couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to what Flash had said about all the girls Peter slept with. You knew it shouldn’t bother you, but the Peter you knew had never even had his first kiss. Something about the guy you’d always pined after going from never being kissed to a guy with a long line of girls leaving his bedroom made your tummy hurt.
“I’m sorry about him. He’s such a dick sometimes.” Peter apologized to you.
“Yeah. I picked up on that.” You laughed nervously.
“Why’d don’t we get out of here? It’s too loud.” Peter’s said and gestured to the rest of the part. You sucked in a sharp breath and thought back to what Flash had just said. As much as you’d wondered about Peter, you were not ready to “get out of here” with him.
“I should probably get back to my friend.” You answered. Peter smiled politely and nodded in understanding but felt disappointed that your time together was ending.
“I’ll help you find her.” He offered and you agreed. You brought him to where you last saw her and found her making out with someone on the couch.
“Oh!” You said in surprise but your friend didn’t come up for sit.
“I think she’s okay for now.” Peter joked.
“I guess she is.” You agreed.
“Do you want to take a walk?” He asked and you felt relieved that he wasn’t asking to go back upstairs.
“Sure. I could use some air.” You agreed and followed him outside. The two of you walked down the sidewalk together and Peter stayed on the side facing the street to keep you from stumbling into it on accident. It felt easy to talk to him despite the years of being apart from each other and the longer you talked, the more you realized he hadn’t changed all that much. Sure, he swore a lot more now and made some dumb jokes, but his character was the same.
“Are you cold?” He asked you at one point.
“No. I’m okay. The fresh air feels good.”
“Good. Because I don’t have a jacket to offer you. But I would give you my jacket if I had one.”
“I appreciate that.” You laughed and looked over at him.
“So how long are you visiting your friend for?” He asked you.
“I go back to school on Tuesday.”
“So soon?” He stopped walking and frowned.
“Yeah. I’m just here for the long weekend.”
“Oh, shit, really? I was hoping we’d have more time together. I’d really love to see you again. Maybe we can get dinner tomorrow or something.”
“I don’t know.” You laughed nervously and folded your arms out of self consciousness.
“Why not?” He asked, sounding a little hurt.
“It was really good to see you again tonight. But I don’t think we have anything in common anymore, Pete.” You admitted without looking at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Look at us. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I don’t know if we’d get along anymore. Not like we did in high school, anyway.”
“Just because it’s been a long time doesn’t mean we won’t get along. We have history together. I’m still the guy you competed with in the decathlon.” He insisted. You looked up at him and stared at him under the light of the streetlight. He sounded like the guy you once knew, but he looked and acted so different now.
“Are you?” You asked quietly. Peter blinked a few times and smiled sadly.
“You don’t think so?”
“Don’t get me wrong, you look great and you seem happy with where you are now.”
“But?” He asked, sensing there was more. You smiled sympathetically because there was in fact more and it wasn’t exactly nice.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little surprised to see you tonight. I always wondered about you and assumed you were halfway to becoming a scientist or Nobel prize winner by now. I never expected all this.”
“All what?” He asked, sounding a little annoyed now.
“You know. Frat boy. Undeclared. Chugging beer. Long line of girls coming out of your room…” You trailed off and looked down at the ground again.
“Flash was joking about that. The only time I’ve had a girl in my room was when we had to get a maid after the New Year’s party because there was an unidentified goo on the floors. I’m still me.” He insisted and stepped closer to you. You still didn’t look up at him because you didn’t want to say what you were about to say.
“You commented on my ass.” You said quietly. You didn’t see it, but Peter’s face dropped. He had felt annoyed that you were judging him until he remembered his opening line to you tonight was about your body. He felt guilty for reducing a girl he knew so well to an object for him to comment on.
“I’m sorry about that. I really am.” He apologized. “I’m way drunk right now and not using my head.
“The guy I knew in high school was not the kind of guy who says things like that to girls.” You said and finally looked into his eyes. To your surprise, he looked genuinely apologetic.
“I know. I’m not like those guys. I swear, I never normally say things like that. I’m drunk and a fucking idiot. I’ve made a total ass of myself all night. What can I do?”
“Peter, it’s fine. I’m not here to judge you. And you don’t owe me anything. I’m being stupid anyway. I’m not the same person I was in high school so I don’t know why I expected you to be. Thats not fair to you. I guess I’m just little drunk and upset I never got to see my Peter again.”
“Your Peter?” Peter asked with a sad smile.
“Come on, Peter. I was crazy about you back then. The whole school knew. By senior year, everyone had figured it out but you. And I always regretted not telling you. So I’d fantasize about all the cool things you were doing in college. This just isn’t what thought it would be like when we found each other again.”
“For me either.” He admitted as he stared at you starry eyed.
“No?”
“I liked you too. You were the girl Flash was talking about. I was in love with you in high school.” He confessed. You knew you should be happy to hear that but all you could think of was the wasted potential of a relationship that never got to happen.
“You never told me.” You said softly.
“How could I?“ He laughed. “You were so beautiful I could barely get an intelligent word out when you were around. You still are. And I still can’t.”
“I wish I knew. Now I’m always gonna wonder what would have happened if I had just told you how I felt.” You smiled sadly.
“So will I.” He said as his eyes filled with sadness. You stared at each other for a moment with the quiet understanding that at one point you wanted the same thing at the same time.
“Maybe we don’t have to wonder.” Peter said after a beat.
“What do you mean?” You asked him. Peter stepped closer suddenly and tilted your chin up with his pinky.
“Please.” He pleaded. “Just give me one night. I’ll take you to dinner and prove I’m still me.”
“And suppose you do.” You shrugged. “I’m only here for the weekend. What does it matter anyway?”
“It matters to me. Because I’ve always wanted you. Even if I just get one night.”
“Peter, I’m not trying to be one of your girls.” You shook your head and stepped away from him.
“I told you. There are no girls. You are the only girl who has ever taken my breath away. I never stopped thinking about you after high school. Just give me one chance.” He asked and pulled you back into his arms. You stared into his eyes for a moment and found yourself unable to say no.
“Please.” He whispered and sounded irresistibly desperate. You could see his gaze dropping to your lips and felt your heartbeat pick up again. But this time, you didn’t feel nervous.
“I shouldn’t.” You said quietly.
“But don’t you want to stop wondering and know for certain?” He asked, and you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut and just as you were expecting his lips to meet yours, he cupped your face and kissed your cheek.
“I’m not going to kiss you tonight. Because I’m drunk. And you’re not.” He said when you looked at him in confusion. You were disappointed to not be kissed but smiled knowing he made the responsible decision.
“Oh. Yeah. Good call.” You cleared your throat and stepped out of his embrace.
“But I will be on my best behavior tomorrow for our date.” He assured you.
“I never actually agreed to a date.” You smiled coyly. Peter grinned and pulled you back into his arms and let his hands rest on your hips.
“You agreed when you closed your eyes to kiss me.” He said with his face close to yours. You gulped again but never broke eye contact with him.
“You’re kinda an asshole now.” You teased him.
“Yeah, but in a good way.” He shrugged, making you laugh.
“We’ll see.” You said pointedly. Peter pulled put his phone and handed it to you.
“We will see.” He insisted. “Here. Put your new number in. And don’t drop it on the subway this time.”
“I won’t.” You playfully rolled your eyes and typed your number into his phone. When you handed it to him, your hands touched as he took it back.
“You better not.” He said and slipped his fingers into yours as he pocketed his phone. You stared into his big brown eyes and felt like you were right back in high school.
“You could kiss me, if you wanted to. I had a drink too.” You said in a soft voice.
“I do want to. But I’ll save it for when my lips don’t taste like cheap beer.” He said with a smirk. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before walking you back to the house. You stepped inside the frat house and just as your friend was heading to the door.
“Hey. The guy I was making out with tried to explain the stock market to me and laughed when I said I’m an economics major. I’m over this party. Are you ready to head out?” She asked you as she slung her purse over her shoulder.
“Oh, yeah. We can go.” You replied and felt disappointed to leave Peter so soon.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down and whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Goodnight.” You said as you turned around to see him.
“Goodnight.” He replied and cupped your chin one more time.
Ten minutes after Peter said he would pick you up, he still wasn’t there. You checked your phone for the hundredth time as saw the minutes adding up. You should have known it was all too good to be true and he wasn’t the exception he claimed to be. He joined a frat and they poisoned the once sweet boy you knew. Just as you were about to go inside, Peter sped down your block and rolled down the window.
“I’m late. I’m sorry.” Peter called out the open window. Since he didn’t even bother to get out of the car, you got off the front steps you were sitting on and bent down to look at him through the window.
“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” You said and didn’t try to hide your annoyance.
“I’m sorry.” He said and pouted. “God damn. You look hot.”
You opened your mouth to scold him for objectifying you once again but he wasn’t done yet.
“I’m so sorry I was late. I bet you spent a long time getting ready dry. And I’m sure you’ve been waiting for a long time. I remember you saying you get ready with time to spare and sit by the door until the person picking you up gets there so they don’t have to wait outside for long. And I’m an asshole and came late.”
You had planned to walk away and go back inside to punish him for being late, but you just couldn’t. Him remembering that little detail about you combined with the way he looked in his jersey made you want to stay.
“Well maybe I’ve changed.” You said pointedly as you climbed into his car.
“You have. High school you didn’t wear rings or have sexy red nails. But I figured some things would stay the same. Hello.” He greeted and leaned in to kiss your cheek. You felt your face burning and turned away so he wouldn’t see your smile.
“I thought some things would stay the same too. Yet I met you last night with a backwards cap on. The Peter I knew wouldn’t never be caught dead in a hat. Let alone one representing a sports team.” You teased him.
“It’s not actually a sports team. Look.” Peter took his eyes off the road to reach into his backseat and get his hat. He handed it to you and your eyes widened.
“Oh my God.” You said as you turned over your old black hat you got at the Gap freshman year.
“You let me borrow that at the senior skip day at the beach because I forgot sunblock.” Peter recalled. “And when I tried to give it back to you, you said I could keep it since it looked better on me.”
“It did.” You smiled fondly at the memory.
“I wear it all the time now because I don’t know how to do my curly hair now that it’s longer.”
“I like it longer.” You told him. “But I also liked your short gelled look. With your cute little button downs and sweaters.”
“Yeah. I outgrew those.” He chuckled. “I started working out more and they looked silly on me once I got bigger. Then Flash showed me how to cut my shirts to show off my arms.”
“Yeah. I can’t imagine those arms in a little sweater.” You agreed.
“What about my arms?” He looked over at you with a smirk.
“Nothing.” You said coyly. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“It’s a surprise. But I’ll give you a hint. You wrote about it in your letter to your college self.”
“What?” You laughed in surprise. “Do you have a photographic memory of something? I don’t remember anything I wrote in that.”
“I told you. I was in love with you.” He said and looked over at you. You locked eyes and smiled until a car hocked at him for drifting into their lane.
“How come you’re so comfortable saying it now yet I had no idea back in high school?” You wondered. Then Peter got a text and pulled out his phone to read it. You eyed him but didn’t say anything as he replied to the text while driving. You’d never been in a car with him behind the wheel before and it was starting to make you a little nervous.
“I don’t know. You’re different too.” He answered finally. “I can tell from looking at you. So I guess I don’t feel like I’m telling the girl I was in love with how I feel because I don’t really know you anymore. It makes it less scary.”
“I didn’t think about it like that. You’re right. I guess we don’t know each other anymore.” You said with a sad smile.
“I want to, though. Because you seem like a cooler version of the girl I liked in high school. Who was already cool.” He said and looked over at you again. You smiled at his compliment and stopped worrying about hai driving for a moment.
“I have so many questions for you.” You to him.
“Shoot.”
“Why’d you leave MIT?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t what I thought it would be. I realized I was a big fish in a small pond back in high school. Everyone seemed so much smarter and more experienced than I was. I felt so alone all the time. So I drove home one night and never looked back.”
“Yeah. I get that. I was always told I was a smart kid growing up and then I just felt so burnt out in college. At least you know you got into MIT and gave it your all.
“Thank you for saying that. I like the way you see things. I’ve been missing your perspective in my life.” He told you and you felt your face heat up again.
“How’d you end up at your new school?” You said to distract him from how flustered he made you.
“They had offered me a full ride if I joined the academic decathlon team. Which I do in secret. Don’t tell my frat please.” He chuckled and looked at you to see if you’d keep his secret. You feigned a smile and internally missed the boy who was a proud captain of the decathlon team.
“How’d you end up in a frat anyway? That seems so opposite of your personality.”
“It kinda happened by accident. I was in a group project with Flash and he invited me to a party after I did his half of the work. And it wasn’t the worst once I had something to drink so I started going to more parties. And then I started drinking a lot. I made friends with a lot of frat guys that Flash knew I so ended up pledging.” He shrugged. You nodded your head but were less than impressed with his story. You and Peter had shared many conversations about not wanting to be at the parties you were never invited to anyway back in high school and now he was the one throwing them.
“I still can’t wrap my head around you being in a frat. I really never imagined you’d be into something like that.”
“How did you imagine me?” He asked with a coy smile.
“I imagined you’d be student teaching a biochemistry class and have a devoted fan base of nerdy students who hung on your every word like in Dead Poets Society. And you’d have circular glasses and wear ties and cardigans like Spencer Reid.
“Wow, Dead Poets Society. I totally forgot about that movie. I haven’t seen it in forever.”
“Really? I thought it was your favorite movie?”
“It used to be. I just watched this movie last week where Seth Rogan and one of the Franco brothers were smoking weed and then they witnessed this murder so they were worried the murder was gonna find them-“ Peter started laughing as he remembered the plot but stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing along with him. The plot was far from the science fiction films he used to talk extensively about during lunch in an effort to convince you to watch them. It wasn’t much, just another reminder of how different he was from when you knew him.
“It was stupid. Anyways.” He changed the subject. “What have you been up to lately? How’s school?”
“School is good.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I’ll ever work a job once I graduate because now having one class at 12 pm drains me for the remainder of the day, but I enjoy it. I like the freedom.”
“Good, good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I like the freedom too. I can eat macaroni at any hour and no one can tell me otherwise. And your friends are nice?”
“Yeah. I’ve found a good group of girls. It was really lonely at first like you said but I eventually found my people. It’s been a lot better now.” You answered as your eyes watching his thumbs type something on his phone. You looked at him in confusion but he was too busy switching back and forth between watching the road and texting to notice.
“I totally get that. I ate alone so many times that I started it get used to it. But it gets better when you find a few good people to spend time with.” He said after a minute. You nodded your head and tried not to be bothered by how distracted he was.
“Are your frat brothers good people?”
“I know you probably have a million and one presuppositions about frat guys but I promise we’re not as bad as you’ve been told. Lots of frats are crazy and have those worst kind of guys in it but were not like that. We have a no bullshit policy.” He informed you.
“Oh yeah? What kind of bullshit do you not tolerate?”
“All sorts of bullshit. We just kicked a guy out last week because he cheated on his girlfriend. And we banned the girl from our parties because she knew he had a girlfriend and slept with him anyway. We do not tolerate that kind of bullshit. Plus, Flash told me they once found out a guy was a bully in high school so they took turns farting on his pillow and then he got severe pink eye and had to drop out of school for the semester. Isn’t that hilarious?”
“That’s nice to hear. Except for the fart stuff. That’s really gross. But not tolerating bullshit is cool. I guess I assumed all frat guys were Brads and Chads who chugged beers and creeped on girls. And I assumed that because a frat guy at my school had sex with a pumpkin and put it on his Snapchat story.”
“Ew, what?” Peter laughed. “Who uses Snapchat still?”
“That’s the part you found gross? Damn, how many pumpkins are you having sex with?” You teased him.
“A gentleman never tells.” Peter said poshly, making you laugh. He got another text and pulled out his phone to read it.
“Peter-“ You began.
“I can’t believe you’re in my car. Do you know how many times I tried to awkwardly ask you out in high school? But I was so vague you never realized? And now you’re just in my car and you smell amazing and I barely had to do anything.” He cut you off and grinned at you as he put his phone down. Every time you got annoyed with his behavior, he pulled you back in some compliment.
“Thank you. It’s my perfume.” You smiled and held your wrist out. Peter caught it with ease and held your wrist to his nose.
“Oh, wow. I like that.” He complimented. “Usually I wake up and walk into a cloud of axe body spray in every area of the house. You’re a nice relief from that.”
“Thank you. You smell good too.” You chuckled.
“Thanks. I stole Flash’s expensive cologne.”
“For me?” You gasped and touched your heart.
“Hell yeah.” He scoffed. “I’ve been waiting on this date since I was 14.”
“I never said this was a date.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.
“I’m pretty sure you did.” He said and dragged the word “pretty” out.
“You would have been on time if it was.” You teased him, making him look at you with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, yes, I was late.” He admitted. “But I had good reason.”
“And what was that reason?”
“I was setting something up.” He said simply.
“Really?” You smiled. “What is it?”
“You’ll see.” He said coyly.
“Okay. Weirdo.” You chuckled. “So, where are we eating?”
“I know this great burger place a few blocks from here. You’re gonna love it.” He replied. You nodded and head and smiled until he pulled out his phone again to answer another text. His car swerved into the other lane and he barely noticed, making you shoot him a look.
“Who are you texting?” You finally asked him.
“Nobody. One second.” He answered as his eyes flipped back and forth between his phone and the road. He started to drift again and a car honked at him as it passed by to get away.
“Peter, you really need to keep your eyes on the road.” You said as another car shouted something at him out their window.
“What was that?” Peter asked and looked up from his phone. You looked at him incredulously and let out a short laugh.
“If you have someone else you’d like to be talking to right now, maybe you should go be with them.”
“Woah, woah, woah. Babe, chill. I don’t have anyone else. I want to be here with you.” He insisted.
“Don’t call me “babe”. Its condescending. And you’re putting both our lives in danger because you’re so busy texting. And if you want to be with me, why are you so distracted by your phone?”
“I just needed to respond to something. Sorry. I won’t do it anymore.” He grumbled and put his phone away. His lack of an apology and heavy attitude in his voice was the final straw for you.
“Just pull over.” You told him.
“What? No. We’re almost there. I won’t text anymore.” He promised.
“Peter, pull over.” You said sternly. “I do not want to be in this car anymore.”
“I’m trying to take you on a nice date and you’re gonna bail because I answered a few texts?”
“Pull the damn car over.” You raised your voice. Peter rolled his eyes and pulled over to the side of the street.
“Before you get out-“ He began. Just then, his phone rang with a girls name on his screen and his face dropped. You raised your eyebrows at him and he smiled sheepishly.
“Answer it.” You dared him. Peter gulped and looked between you and the phone before picking it up.
“I’m sorry. One second.” He said and answered the phone. You scoffed in disbelief and glared at him as he took the call.
“Hello? No, I’m not doing anything. I can talk. What’s going on?” He asked into the phone. You had seen enough and got out of the car and started walking down the street. Peter watched you get out and opened his car door to talk to you.
“Where are you going?” He called after you.
“Peter, I’m not gonna sit here while you text other girls. I’m leaving.” You answered and continued down the street. He quickly explained his situation over the phone and hung up before running after you.
“Wait, please don’t leave. I’ll put my phone away.” He promised but you didn’t stop walking.
“You can text whoever you want. I don’t care. You’re just not gonna do it and think you can still take me on a date.” You told him before storming off. You turned the corner and started heading towards a nearby park.
“Wait.” Peter called after you so you walked even faster. He eventually caught up and caught you gently by the arm.
“Damn, you’re fast for a girl in heels.” He said as he caught his breath. You pulled your arm away from him and went into the park to get away from him. He caught onto you again and this time, you had tears in your eyes.
“Where are you going?” He asked. “What about our date?
“This was a mistake.” You shook your head and looked down.
“What? No it wasn’t.” He said, sounding genuinely hurt.
“Yes it was. Look at us, Peter. We don’t have anything in common anymore. I really liked you back then but you’re not that guy anymore. That guy wouldn’t show up late, call me “hot” and “babe”, text and drive, forget his favorite movie, stop talking to his best friend-“
“Oh. I get it.” He cut you off. “You’re disappointed because I’m not the same person I was when I was 17.”
“Yeah. Maybe I am.” You snapped and folded your arms when you heard his attitude return.
“Yeah, well. You’re different too.” He insisted. “The girl I knew in high school was not this judgmental.”
“I am not judgmental.” You scoffed.
“Yes you are. You’ve been judging me since the moment you turned around at the party. Just admit it.”
“Maybe because you commented on my ass like you were one of the dickhead boys you used to make fun of I’m high school. God, what happened to you?”
“I said I was sorry about that.”
“But you still did it.” You laughed sadly. “And then showed up late. And then remembered things about me from high school. And then texted other girls. And then kept the hat I gave you. I don’t understand you, Peter. I can’t read you anymore. This is too confusing. And it’s all for nothing because I still go back home on Tuesday and we’re never going to see each other again.“
“It doesn’t have to be like that.” He said and put his hands on your shoulders. You were surprised by how desperate for you to stay he sounded since it contradicted his behavior thus far.
“I think it does, Peter. Goodbye.” You shook your head and walked away again.
“Wait. There’s snakes out there.” He called after you.
“No there’s not.” You called back. You kept walking through the park until you came across a picnic blanket surrounded by fake candles. Surrounding the blanket were printed out caricatures of celebrities strung up and tapped to trees.
“What is this?” You asked when you heard Peter come up behind you.
“Oh thank God. No one stole it.” He sighed in relief and walked over to the picnic blanket.
“Wait, you set this up?” You asked in disbelief.
“Yeah. Ellen’s Stardust Dinner turns out to be insanely difficult to get into so I made us one.”
“Ellen’s Stardust Dinner?”
“In your letter. I remembered you said it was your dream to eat there one day.” He said with a sheepish smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and started to walk around to look at all the photos he had printed. Peter lingered behind you and kept a comfortable distance since you were upset with him.
“Is this Joey Graceffa?” You laughed and pointed to one of the pictures.
“I took some creative liberties with the celebrities I chose to showcase once I ran out of ones I knew you liked. Do you still like Dylan O’Brien?”
“Do bears still shit in the woods? The answer is yes. Sorry. That wasn’t funny.” You quickly corrected yourself and Peter snorted.
“It was a little funny.” He admitted. “Not really, though.”
“I see the entire cast of Modern Family made it.” You chuckled and touched one of the photos he had tapped up to a tree.
“Of course they did. It’s the best show ever.”
“You’re not wrong.” You looked over at him with a smile. Peter took that smile as a sign you were forgiving him and stepped closer to you. You could feel his presence behind you and turned around to face him.
“You set all this up for me?”
“I did. That’s why I was late.” He explained. “I started early but then I ran out of magenta ink so obviously I couldn’t print the rest of my photos despite them having no magenta parts.”
“What about all the texting?” You asked him.
“My aunt is getting a mammogram today. Her mom had breast cancer so she was really nervous. I was checking in with her. But don’t worry, she’s okay. She just called to tell me. And that doesn’t excuse me texting while driving which I normally never do but she was anxious in the waiting room and I didn’t want her to be alone with her thoughts.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” You said softly and immediately felt guilty for snapping at him.
“You would’ve told me to go be with her.” He shrugged. “And I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you before you left.”
“Well that’s very noble of you but it sounds like she needed you more than I did today.”
“Don’t worry. She insisted I come here instead. I would have just made her more nervous with my anxious pacing.”
You looked around at everything Peter had set up for you and all the details he had put in. You’d misread everything and judged him off of things you knew little about. You looked at him with guilt in your eyes and smiled sadly.
“I don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “You went through a lot today for me and I just threw a fit and stormed off.”
“I can’t say I didn’t give you good reason. I should have told you these things sooner. I’m just not good at this sort of thing. I wanted so badly to impress you that I ended up making you think I didn’t care.”
“Can we just start over then? And enjoy this set up you made?” You asked him.
“I would like that.” Peter smiled and sat down on the blanket. You sat down beside him and leaned into his side. Peter wasted no time in wrapping both arms around you, making you both fall backwards onto the blanket. You both laughed and stayed in each others arms as you rolled over to look into his eyes.
“I’m sorry I judged you.” You said and fixed his hair.
“It’s okay. I know I’m not what you thought I’d be.”
“You’re not. But you’re still you. You still have your heart and your humor. And those were always my favorite parts of you anyway. I don’t know why I got so hung up on the other things. Who cares what movies you watch or what you do with your free time now? None of that stuff matters.”
“Do you still like me? Even though I’m different?” He asked as he stared into your eyes.
“Look at what you did for me today. You’re not different. You just wear different clothes. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you. It wasn’t fair. And I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. Honestly, I miss who I was too. I miss Ned. And being around people who know what amino acids are. And I missed you. God, I missed you so much. In the years since high school, there have been so many times when I’ve come across something I wanted to show you or thought something I wanted to tell you. I missed hearing your laugh when I made a stupid joke or hearing your thoughts on the bad movies I’d beg you to watch. I never made a friend like you again. And after a while, I realized I never would.”
“I never found someone like you either. No one ever had me like you did. I’ve been dreaming about the day we met again since the day I last saw you.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He joked.
“Please. How could I be disappointed in this?” You playfully rolled your eyes and traced your fingertips up and down his arm. Peter reached forward and placed his hand on your face to stroke your cheek with his thumb.
“When do you leave on Tuesday?” He asked in a quiet voice.
“Late. My train is at 5.”
“Maybe we can get breakfast then.” He suggested without looking at you as he laced his fingers through yours.
“I’d like that.” You smiled and started to lean in.
“I can cook it.” He added. “After we wake up in my room.”
“Don’t push it.” You chuckled and rubbed your nose against his as you got closer.
“I won’t.” He replied before closing the gap between you and kissing you. The kiss that was years in the making was worth every minute of the wait. His right hand found his way to your hip and he squeezed it.
“Maybe you can push it just a little bit.” You said against his lips. Peter took that as his chance to pull you by the waist on top of him and deepen the kiss.
“That’s how I know you’ve changed. Nice boys don’t kiss like that.” You said when you pulled away to catch your breath.
“Yes they fucking do.” Peter said against your lisp before pulling you back into a heated kiss. You weren’t sure how much time passed as you kissed him but you only stopped when you Peters stomach let out a loud growl. You pulled away and rolled onto your back as you both laughed.
“Sorry about that. We never actually got any food.” He realized.
“Oh yeah. Maybe we should go do that.” You said and rolled over to face him.
“Yeah. We probably should.”
Despite the agreement to get up and go get some food, neither of you moved. You just laid on the blanket and stared into each others eyes with a comfortable silence in the air.
“In a minute?” You suggested after a minute and Peter smiled before leaning in to kiss you again.
“In a minute.”
PSA: DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE. it’s never worth it. It takes one second to get in an accident. Any text can wait. Your life is more important
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soupywoof · 3 months
Text
[maintenance] - a gabv1el oneshot
i sit here exposed, pieces of my body never meant to be seen lie out in open air. someone else’s blood, dried, not unlike the rust on my metal, at one point escaped through loose piping, tangled wires, damaged circuitry. you see the signs of my obsolescence.
you stare into my chassis, your face unchanged.
i can feel you, your eyes, your focus, tracing over my internals. your gentle hands disappear inside me for your fingers to follow suit, and they return cradling damaged parts, long forgotten, weathered by use and time as they gathered dust, oil, blood – the likes of which untouched by self-repair.
and, whether by your careful touch or my layered wear, your work goes unnoticed, and yet it doesn’t. i feel you, though i don’t, not as i understand it, not as i have ever felt. the presence of your hand – each muscle and tendon, contracting, extending, manipulating wrist, fingers, joints, yours - its softness, its care. your presence inside of me, i feel it ever deepen, incomprehensibly so. and thus i feel you work. softly, you tear me into pieces.
but i don’t understand the attention you give to each piece of my decommissioned body. you run each wire gently between your fingertips and with care you repair me, reconnect me anew, clip each rusted, rotting part from my chassis and replace it, pristine. you untangle my twisted internals and in return they twist around you, your delicate touch, intricately working, now interwoven, pulled into me. you hold each piece of me as though it could shatter. you treat me so softly. i am a machine designed and created for war: sturdy, persistent, self-sustaining.
and yet, here you kneel, holding my heart with careful hands, gently, dearly, nursing me to life.
and yet, as your hands leave my hollow core each time, i ache.
you wipe away old grease between the seams of my plating, and i can feel you get carried away, slowly, softly, tracing the lines of my body. every angle, every corner, every curve. every part of me. my rust. my breaks. it feels as though not an inch goes untouched, untended. why do you take care of me so?
divine, yet you use your light on me. not even mortal, an afterthought, created by the free will that damned them, of steel, of sin. and still, despite such objectionable existence, here you kneel. why?
why do you care and why do i let you?
why do i sit here, my heart exposed, letting you see into me, each detail of my making, of my being, the routing of each cable into each socket, the pipes fueling my hydraulics, my inner-workings, and why do i let you rearrange me, poke around my delicate circuitry, why do i let you in? i wasn’t made for this. i wasn’t made for you. i don’t know if i care.
as you gently press the last piece of me into place, it clicks, and through the quiet air i can hear you breathe. your scarred chest rises, falls, and rises once more as you stare expectantly into my core. i feel your hand linger inside. you feel different, vivid. like your heart is my own i feel it beat, blood racing through your body. and i twitch. my fans whirr at nothing, my pumps spur to life, and i feel warm. warmer than ever before, with your hand in my chest, against me, inside me, a part of me.
i look down at you, the glow of my visor lights up your face, the low thrum of my body fills the silence.
you look up at me, at me.
i don’t want you to let go. i grab your wrist with both hands, holding it in place against my beating, ticking heart, and this newfound warmth continues to grow. what did you do to me?
please don’t let go.
you avert your gaze and i pain, my grip tightening on you. my whole body tightening in on itself. but you don’t let go. your hand remains still against my body, my chest, my heart, heating, heating up with every moment you stay.
you look back into me, your finished work, your palm against, and mine.
time pauses.
i don’t know what you think.
but in the stillness i feel your grace, your presence, gently against my metal, held onto your flesh. you place your empty hand on mine.
you don’t look back up into my visor, but i feel your warmth course through me and my body relax, my fear subside.
we sit there, in emptiness, accompanied only by the quiet, constant sounds of our bodies.
incredible accompanying animatic made by the amazing oshasno linked here: WATCH IT PLEASE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[INSPIRED LOTS BY THIS AS THEY WORKED ON IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!]
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 7 months
Text
Two different kinds of love
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: none, enjoy!!
Bea series (girl dad Carlos)
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Another race weekend was behind you and now Carlos was back home with you and Bea. It was a lazy morning - your favorite kind of morning where you were snuggled up to him in bed, your back pressed against him, his warm arms wrapped around you and his lips softly pressed on your skin.
"I love having you home" You say quietly closing your eyes.
"I love being home" He says pulling you closer to him.
"You know, I'm interested in your opinion about something."
"I'm listening."
"So I was talking with my girl friends the other day-"
"Oh this is going to be interesting.." He chuckles and you join him kicking his leg.
Like any woman, you always shared things with your man that you heard or learned from your friends. Not that he was interested in any of that, but he always listened attentively because he knew it was important to you.
"So we came to the topic of how relationships change when children come and considering that none of them have children yet, they were interested in whether it is wrong to love your partner more than your child."
"Ay Dios mio.." He sighs rolling his eyes. "And what did you tell them? That is such a stupid question."
"But really, what do you think? Have you ever even found yourself thinking about it?" You ask, genuinely curious about what his thoughts are.
"It's not easy to answer that question and it's hard to explain. Those are two completely different kinds of love. Bea is my little girl, my whole world, but you gave me her." A feeling of immense warmth spreads through your body as you listen to him talk. "You have taken a place in my heart that no one can ever replace. Nothing would make sense without you."
You place a gentle kiss on his hand fighting back the tears in your eyes, but one manages to escape and roll down your cheek.
"I'd do anything for her at any time. It hurts how much I love her. But I think I'd die without you."
You were his greatest support, strength, wind at his back, his motivation and comfort. He always knew how much you loved him even though you didn't often share such deep words with him, and now that you did, they really touched him.
"That's why I'm always frightened when you get into that car. That's why I love having you home." By now the tears were streaming down your cheeks, there was no point in hiding them anymore.
"Turn around" He says quietly and when you do he puts his hands on your cheeks wiping the tears with his thumb. "I don't want you thinking that way" he presses a kiss to your forehead before he continues. "I have nothing without the two of you and I'll always come back home to you. I promise."
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