#so i figured keeping stock of all the links i use would be nice

[catzpetterz2]

oh btw im working on a list in my private discord of all the petz mods i have in my game and their sources! so if i post something and you wanna know who made it/where to download it just ask :D

[zensations35]

It's A Secret To Everyone (LoZ Ficlett)

@aliasnz I got you for my secret santa! Your prompt list had Link and I could NOT pass up that chance! This fic is set a bit after Skyward Sword (I wanted to age Link up somehow bc even 'adult' Link's age is so fuzzy in canon) and I also wanted to play with Ghirahim being an ass, SO THIS WORKED OUT WELL. (I may have grabbed a couple snzarios from your page to use for your enjoyment) I hope you like it!

Ghirahim reclined upon a lopsided boulder carpeted with moss. He had grown accustomed to this clearing--this small piece of land not yet discovered by the new denizens of his former stomping grounds. 

It had taken him months to recover from his injuries during the Great Demon Battle and years later, he is still sporting diamond shaped scars splashed across his torso. 

Damn Demise for manhandling him so. 

Sunbeams shred through the canopy of trees that camouflage his patch of forest. He shimmies down the broad expanse of rock and ducks away from the piercing rays. Sunlight may not harm him but he doesn’t particularly like it. 

A threshing sound startles Ghirahim and his white hair flares as he spins toward the noise. His obsidian sword appears in his hand with a shimmer of diamond light. 

Thresh. Thresh. Thresh.

What the devils is that? Are animals finally--

A figure bursts through the veil of hanging leafage that protects the entrance to his sanctuary and Ghirahim hisses.

The figure is clad in green. 

Anger flares in Ghirahim’s chest. No. Not him. Anyone but--

Another noise croons not far behind the Hylian and they both look wide-eyed from each other to the curtain of vines now concealing the entrance.

Kwee-koo!

…Kikwi?? Oh devils. Ghirahim was wrong. That is definitely the worse of the two intruders encroaching on his beloved space. 

Link’s eyes dart back to Ghirahim. He is standing stock still, arms fanning out near his hips. 

Ghirahim lifts a long gray finger to his white lips. The hero nods. 

Rustling continues. Small mewls confirm the Kikwi are indeed searching for something. Likely the dashing intruder before Ghirahim. Yet, if they remain quiet…

“Hhh…”

Ghirahim’s muscles stiffen at the sight of Link’s clenched chest. His face is scrunching, nose pink with need.

Ah, devils alive. He’s about to ruin everything. 

Cover your damn nose!

Of all the powers the hero has, mind reading is not one of them. Link remains still as a statue, save for his flaring nostrils, his quivering lip. 

In an instant, Ghirahim is behind Link, a shower of multicolored diamonds sparkling the air around him. He wraps arms around Link, fingers clamping over his nose and mouth until he feels the dewy hitches of breath.

“Hmn!” the muffled groan jerks at their flushed bodies and Link snaps forward, only Ghirahim’s hold keeping him from stumbling forward. “Szch!”

It’s a wet, kittenish sound and it spritzes Ghirahim’s palm, making him curl a lip in derision. Ghirahim tightens his hold on Link’s nose and mouth until he fears the hero might have stopped breathing. Perhaps that would solve his problems altogether.

In moments, the rustling fades and the Kikwis meander far enough away for Ghirahim to comfortably release Link. 

When his fingers relax, Link drinks in a sniffle and doubles over fast into his own tented hands. “Szch! Z’SK-ieh! K’tSZ!” 

Ghirahim rolls his eyes and wipes his damp fingers on a mossy trunk as Link tends his colorful nose. 

“Salutations, hero,” Ghirahim snorts, sarcasm dripping like venom. “Isn’t that what they call you now?” He props a fist on his creamy hip and swats the air. “Hero of Hyrule, they say. Nice of you foreigners to give a name to a place that already had one.”

Link snuffles and glares at Ghirahim. Ghirahim laughs like popping bubbles in his throat. 

“Oh, have I offended you? Or are you wondering why I am here? Alive?”

Link’s lips twitch as he just stares.

Ghirahim flutters fingers through his chopped hair, “I am a demon Lord. Did you think Demise’s…demise…would kill me? Disintegrate my body to ash at his corpse?”

Link opens his mouth and Ghirahim thinks the silent hero might actually speak. But instead…

“Hc’SH! Eh-Ksh! KSZ!” 

An amused smirk spreads Ghirahim’s lips wide. His teeth flash serpentlike, “Oh, seems the hero is not accustomed to the flora quite yet. Miss your clean sky air, bird rider?”

Link shoots a poison look at him above the arm he’s using to scrub the itch from his face. Ghirahim pops his wrist, index finger leveled toward the long suffering hero. 

“Your sneeze does not become you, hero. So soft and delicate. Like butterfly wings.”

Link grumbles and straightens his shirt, cheeks flushing a pink that might be embarrassment. 

“What, pray tell, are you dong here?” Ghirahim finally asks.

Link’s eyes slide back to the vines where the Kikwis almost penetrated, clearly as put off by them as Ghirahim himself. 

‘I see. More chores for the chosen one,” Ghirahim sways his head left and right. His sulfurous eyes fall on the wooden handle protruding from Link’s back and his nose scrunches in a sneer. “Oh my.” He slithers toward Link, his body folding and bending closer to get a better look.

Link backpedals, grunting incomprehensibly. Ghirahim’s eyes shimmer. “Where, hero of the sky, is that lovely goddess sword of yours?”

Link’s face falls, his shoulders visibly slumping as his gaze drops to the grass at his feet. 

Ghirahim folds his arms and sticks out his lower lip, pouting theatrically. “Such sadness. I suppose it is just you and I here then? No wonder I have not heard that shrill voice of hers.”

Anger feathers Link’s cheek and his hand darts up to grasp the sword handle, a cute little snarl on his face. 

Ghirahim just laughs. “Going to fight me? Like that?” he drizzles his fingers around Link’s shivering form. “You look as if a harsh wind might knock you down.”

Link’s snarl creeps higher, flaring his left nostril. His teeth chatter and he uses his free hand to catch a gusty, “HEx’TSzH!” It’s harsher than the ones before it. Forcibly so. Obviously so.

Ghirahim barks a laugh that dislodges his arms so they swing at his sides. “Was that for my benefit? Did I hit a nerve and now you must prove that you can sneeze like a brave soldier?”

Link’s fingers peel from his sword to join his other hand, cupping them together as if to catch water from a spout. “I-AX’SZH! Ieh-SZHhh-Hieh!” 

“Are you quite done?” A limber finger taps Ghirahim’s teeth, the nail clacking against enamel. He watches the hero as Link begins to hitch and shiver. His pink nose climbs higher and higher with each hum of breath, his entire body wracked with tremors as his nerves light up. 

“Ieh-hih-ih-HIH--!” his eyes flood and he is barely able to see his foe through the saline lens of his allergic tears. His teeth clench and he hisses air as his hands push against his nose.

Ghirahim lets out a vexed huff, “Are you going to sneeze, or are you just going to stand there gasping like an idiot?”

Link pinches his hands together, lids squeezing shut as he curls his spine forward, “Hyh..Ehhn…” 

In another shower of diamond sparks, Ghirahim is there, once again laced against Link’s body, shoving the hero backward into the rocky edge of the clearing. His teeth flash as he grins wickedly. 

“Allow me to help~”

Ghirahim dances his clawed fingers toward Link’s vulnerable nostrils, mouth stretched in what could be malice. Link pulls back but his head scrapes the rock behind him, dislodging his iconic green hat and revealing ruffles of sun-kissed hair. 

His breaths are still ragged and demanding. 

“H-Ngh!” his eyes flit open, a flash of blue, then close, lashes severing tears from their glassy perch. His head bobs, *snff* another ”Hi-ih!” 

His throat closes over a cough when Ghirahim languidly strokes the side of his scrunched nose. “You’re so close,” Ghirahim coos giddily, pushing down his giggle of mischief for later, but the gust from the escaped air sends hot breath caressing Link’s cheek. 

Ghirahim’s features narrow, as if there is nothing more important than teasing his enemy. “You merely…need…a nudge…” with each prod of Ghirahim’s black nail against the wall of his rounded nostril, Link heaves a breath. “Hgk-hh-” the loose hitches grow more defiant. “Hgk-hgk - HhhIEH--” Link scoops in air and he hisses as the black nails trail the bridge of his wrinkling nose.

His chest inflates beneath Ghirahim’s splayed palm and, with a flick like a feather, Ghirahim traces the rim of Link’s upturned nostrils. As if they’re inviting him in! And enter he does. He cannot help his curiosity at this point. Finally! Something exciting!

As soon as Ghirahim hits the sweet spot, Link whines, harsh and pitched. 

“Haii!!” Ghirahim pins Link’s arms to his sides. “H-Ih-” each hitch climbs higher and higher, until Link’s rosy nose is in the air, like a beacon for pollen to flock to.

A new sound snarls in his throat and Ghirahim takes his cue. He whips away in a shower of diamond sparks, suddenly releasing Link to crumple into himself with the roughest, “EIXGST!! AIKxs!!” The sneezes rip from his throat, graceless and unrestrained. “ETSH! Ih’TZSHH!! EIHSHieuu!!”

Link rockets forward into the curtain of diamond sparkles, stumbling so hard he barely catches himself.He smashes a fist to his nose with a congested groan, followed by a loud, liquid sniff. 

Ghirahim leans against his mossy boulder, elbow propped on the rock,sporting an amused smirk. 

If the hero deigned to speak, he’d likely curse the demon Lord. 

Ghirahim throws back his head like a jackknife, maniacal laughter bursting from him.

“Oh, aren’t you fun to pick on~” He flutters his hand in a shooing motion. “Go. Before you drive back those damn Kikwis with your,” his dark eyes glitter, “boisterous expulsions.”

Link looks like he’d love nothing more than to test his new sword on Ghirahim, but that would mean having to deal with the prick for even longer. 

Decision made, the hero slowly backs out of the refuge, letting the vines trail over his shoulders until he is completely out of view.

Ghirahim sighs and reclines back on his moss. 

Crisis averted.

[bitchapalooza]

So I wrote a short thing at work today. Enjoy. I barely edited this, it's midnight, I for one accept any and all errors with open arms.

Professor Edward Laventon never asked for much growing up. A poor farmers' son, both by his birth parents and adopted parents. A fate of his, it seemed. He wore clothes adjusted to his size or hand-me-downs from family friends. He ate what he grew and he liked it or else he be labeled ungrateful and rude— or worse, starved. His families never had much truthfully. And Laventon was content with that. He was happy. He didn't mind one bit.

Until he met Cyllene.

He was still happy, yes. In fact, he was delighted. When he walked off that boat and first laid eyes on her, he felt a flutter in his chest. Like Butterfree dancing about in his chest cavity. It was something he'd never felt before, not from any of his previous partners. This was a first. And from then on, when he'd see his superior officer, the same sensation would occur.

For a year he couldn't figure it out, until one day, one cool morning in the fall of Hisui, it hit him. Cyllene sat talking to Ginter, curiously inspecting his new stock of mysterious wares. The sunlight beaming down on her face, making her shine, making her look so... Angelic.

Her beauty glowed. It melted the ever cold professor to a measly little puddle.

He couldn't figure it out. Why his feelings finally made obvious after so long. But regardless of why and when, Laventon couldn't bare keeping it to himself any longer. So he asked her to an evening meal.

It was... uncomfortable. Cyllene, he knew, wasn't a fan of eating in front of people. Yet she accepted his offer anyway. He hadnt thought properly. Laventon couldn't help but feel horrible for that, so he cut the public meal short, asking her where she would much prefer going.

So he took her to the shore.

The next evening, he took her again.

And the next.

And many, many more after that.

They shared their first kiss on that beach shore. The two no longer shivering in the chilly fall air, desperately pressed closed together in the moonlight, basking in each others warmth.

Before he knew it, Cyllene would link her arm with his as they walked through the village. He would walk her home and miss her at the door. The subtle flirting in the office. Her soft smile. She would call him her beau, she his sweetheart— and it made his heart soar.

Laventon doesn't require much to live or be happy. He isn't rich and doesn't wish to be. His office isnt big by no means, but its big enough for him. He doesnt need a thing.

Or does he? He wonders as he rolls the golden, dawn stone decorated band between his fingers. He sat at his kotatsu, pondering. Waiting. Cyllene had paperwork to deliver to the Commander. It was such a clear night, they thought it would be nice to take a midnight stroll.

And they were right. It was such a lovely night.

The waves gently hit the dock. Breeze gently tossling their hair, Laventon's hate off for once. The air was salty. Like home to Cyllene. It's why she loves it here. Her favorite spot in the entire region.

Cyllene stares up at the night sky, naming what constellations she knew. Laventon watched her dimples form every time she smiled. She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, a habit he's noticed they share.

Laventon felt a tug on his heart. A feeling of longing.

He wanted this every night. Every day. He wanted to be the reason she smiled, the reason she laughed. He wanted to wake up next to her every single morning, even if it's because hes freezing cold, Cyllene having stolen the whole blanket off of him during the night. He didn't care when she stole food off his plate, he would gladly trade anything in the world for that to keep happening. How she took his shirts and used them as a gown after a night together. Nagged him for slouching. Applied medicine to his newest cuts and scrapes. Trailing fingers through his hair, across his chest. The odd way she held a quill. The specific way she folds her clothes. The half hour it takes to style her hair the way she likes it.

This poor farmer's boy knows what he wants now. What to ask for. His only request.

With a low groan in the back of his throat and pained pop in his knees, Laventon knelt down in the sand.

[silentprincessandsweethibiscus]

Four Minus One: Chapter 4- Of Violet Eyes and Shards of Glass:

Four is not having a good day, good thing they've got Sky to look out for them. Right.

“Green!” “Blue!” “While blue is great, it's obviously green.” “The sailors right! It’s blue!” “You're all wrong, it's red.”

The group was making their way to Twilight's Castle Town for a restock, and all had been peaceful for most of the walk, but recently shouting from the back of the group had cut into the conversation Four was having with Twilight and Time at the front. It was an argument Four had heard plenty of times, and it was also one with no solution, so they opted to ignore it, as did Time. Twilight, however, turned back. “What’s the issue back there?” Hyrule sighed, answering over the others continued arguing. “They’re trying to figure out what the ‘proper’ tunic color for the hero is. Sky says because he came first it's green, and Warriors agrees on account of the largest percentage of us wearing it, while Wild says it's blue because that's what the Royal Family deemed it to be by their time, and Wind says blue because of some old stories from his family.”

“And I assume Legend is just saying red to spite them all.” Four adds with a chuckle.

“Pretty much, yea. They wanted my opinion but I honestly don’t think it matters.”

Twilight nodded as Time added his thoughts. “The tunic color does not make the hero, and fashion choice is an individual decision so it's unlikely we would ever even come to a proper solution to this particular problem.”

“Besides,” Four added with a smirk, “The answer is obviously Violet.”

Legend scoffed. “I’ll agree with the green squad before I take you up on that one Four.”

“Yea!” Wind cuts over him. “At least Sky, Time, and Rulie also have some red, giving Legend’s option a leg to stand on!” He ignored Legend’s small ‘hey’ as he continued. “But you're the only one with a purple tunic. No one else has any in theirs, so it can’t be purple.”

“Well you are right, it can’t be purple. Because my tunic, is violet. Not purple.” Four crossed their arms. They really don’t expect to win this argument, they never did with their siblings either. Four just wanted to throw everyone for a loop, but the others could at least call it the right color.

Sky chuckled and shook his head. “Violet is a shade of purple, Four.” The group was making their way towards the largest clump of shops and stalls, oblivious to how their arguing was drawing people's eyes to them.

“Yea!” Wind darted up towards the front. “Purple, violet, whatever you want to call it, you’re still the only one with any on your tunic!” As he made his way past a stall selling vases he tripped, taking one of the beautiful glass vases down with him as he fell. Jumping back up he was immediately apologizing, pulling some rupees out of his pack and offering to help the nice woman running the stall pick it up.

There were several face palms and hearty chuckles from the group, but as Sky turned to share a look with twilight he noticed their smallest member, standing stock still, with eyes wide in front of him. He gently pushed his way through the others to stand in front of them. As he crouched down to look Four in the eyes he noticed their breathing was a bit erratic, and between the tears welling up in them, and how foggy and unfocused they were, their eyes were looking more gray than the violet they usually were. He gently put his hands on his friends shoulders, trying to ground them, and frowned when he got no reaction. 

He spoke softly, somewhat to keep attention off of them, and partially to not startle them. “Four? Hey Four, buddy. Link?” The only response he got from Four was those tears finally breaking free. He looked up at Time, who nodded and started getting the others to step back a bit, everyone helping out to make sure no one else got too close, luckily they had been near a break in the stalls, so they weren't to in the way. There were large tears clumping up in Fours eyes, falling freely as they hiccupped with the force of their uneven breaths. Sky took one of Fours hands, and moved it gently to be lying against his chest. “Alright, it's okay. When you can, try and match your breathing to mine, okay?” He didn’t get a response, but Four’s breath stuttered in the way that ones does when they are trying to stop crying. Their tears did not stop, but after a few moments their breathing did start to even out. “Good, perfect. Do you think you can talk if I were to walk you through something?”

For a moment Four didn’t respond, and Sky almost decided to try something else, when Four finally nodded. Their voice was small and cracking, but they spoke anyways. “Y-yeah. I th-think so.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” Sky gave them a small smile before continuing. “Can you look around for me, and list off five things you can see around us?”

Four nodded again and did as asked. “W-winds bag.” They hiccupped and took a deep breath. “A cart of veg. vegetables.” A few more hiccups, and wiping away some tears. “Warriors scarf.” They saw the light shining off a piece of the broken glass that hadn’t yet been picked up and flung their head in the other direction. “A cat, and some kids playing with a ball.”

“Good, good.” Sky nodded, giving Four a small smile. “Now four things you can feel.”

“Your tunic. The Four Sword on my back.” And that was almost as big of a comfort to them as Sky in front of them. “The Minish feather of my earring tickling my chin, and a small pebble in my shoe.”

“Great. How about three things you can hear?”

“The fountain over there is running. Those kids playing.” They paused for another breath. “And the others, chatting to seem like they aren't worried.”

Sky chuckled, noticing for the first time the low voices of their friends behind him. “Yeah, that is what they’re doing, isn't it. Heh. Alright, Two things you can smell?”

“There's a stall selling candles over there,” They nodded towards the stall in question before continuing, “And there seems to be food stalls or restaurants on the next street.”

“Perfect, last one, alright. Give me one thing you can taste.”

Four wiped the last of the tears from their face with a chuckle. “Just salt.”

Shy gave them a smile back. “Perfect. Now, would it be more helpful to talk about it, or would you prefer we just move on? Or a third option?”

“Just moving on for now would be good.” Four frowned in thought. “It was the glass, sorry. Quest thing.”

“No need to apologize Four, I’m sure most if not all of us have something that would trigger a similar response, we know it can’t always be controlled on your end.” Wind bounded up and wrapped his arms around Four’s waist, pulling them into an almost bone crushing hug. He had a few tears in his eyes, but he, and for their own sake Four, were both content to ignore them. “I’m so sorry Four, I should have been more careful.”

Four gladly took the hug, wrapping one of their own arms around Wind’s shoulders, while patting him on the head with their other hand. “It’s alright. You didn’t know.” They chuckled. “Though, to avoid breaking more of the poor merchant’s wears you are probably right about being a bit more careful.”

"Heh, yea." Wind pulled back to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "So then Violet, what's so great about your tunic color anyways?"

Four felt their heart stop for a moment, before realizing that Wind was just making a joke. "Well for starters, it's mine."

Legend scoffed at that, but they were smiling, so Four figured they were just enjoying the banter. "And?"

"I mean, I'm looking at the list here, and that's the end of it." Four raised an eyebrow, daring one of the others to challenge their point. Instead all they got were chuckles.

Time sighed and shook his head. “Alright, alright, that's enough for now. Let's split up to grab what we need. Warriors, you Wind and Wild are going to get any food we need. Legend and Hyrule are going to stock up on potions. Sky and Four are going to pick up anything we need for our weapons and gear, and Twilight and I are going to speak with those friends he mentioned last night, to gather information on local monster sightings.”

There was a chorus of agreement from the group, and a long suffering sigh from Warriors, as he began to wrangle in the two hyper active Links. Sky made eye contact with Four and they both silently agreed that they were glad the task had been delegated to Warriors, and not one of them.

“We meet back here when we’re done. Or by sunset if you don’t finish your task. This warning shouldn’t apply to anyone but Time and myself honestly, but do not leave Castle Town.” Twilight looked pointedly between Wild, Wind, and Hyrule. “There is no reason for any of Y'all to be heading back out without at least letting the rest of us know.”

There was some grumbled agreement from the three of them, but they all agreed and the group was free to split up for their tasks. It was a nice day, and they had most of it to get done what needed to be done, so Sky and Four opted to take their time, not actually finishing their relatively easy task until late afternoon. Not so late as to be worried about shops closing on them, but late enough that their shadows became long as they danced along the cobblestone next to their heroes.

Four found themself watching their shadow as the duo headed back to the meeting spot and felt a pang of regret. When they’re home they tended to talk to it, and though they had no idea if it could hear them or not, being so silent to it while traveling with the other heroes has felt wrong. However, explaining why they did it would be a chore, and though their friends and family back home understood, most of them had lived through it as well. Their new extended family was great, but they didn’t expect them to understand what had happened between the two of them. So they would stay silent, for both of their sakes, and hope, for the first time, that Shadow couldn’t hear them, so it wouldn’t worry as to why they seemed to be ignoring it now.

Or maybe it understood what was happening in the world of light. That would certainly explain why it was trying to subtly point to something.

Wait.

Four stopped to look more closely at their shadow. Yep. Definitely pointing. They started musing on what had woken Shadow as they turned to follow its pointing. Was it something they had done at home prior to leaving? All the portals they have been jumping through? Both? Dark Link? Every possibility was just as likely, but the last one did concern them. If it was something to do with Dark Link then Shadow was likely in trouble. 

They made it to the end of the street before they heard footsteps catch back up to them. Fine, Sky could follow if he wished, so long as he didn’t try and stop them. “Four, uh, where are we going.”

“Following.” Shadow’s pointing ever so slightly changed directions as they rounded a corner, and Four continued on following it.

“Following?” Sky looked around, eyes searching for whatever it was that Four had in their sights. “Following what? Is it one of those Minish things?”

Four realized they had an out, it would be so easy to tell Sky it was a Minish, but they found that they didn’t want to lie to their brother, so instead they shook their head. “Not a Minish. I’ll explain later, but I have reason to believe the person I am following may be in trouble.”

“Alright.” Sky nodded, expression turning steely and posture becoming less lax. He only hesitated a moment when they got to the city gates, quickly collecting himself and catching back up once again. “I’m confused. Who are we following? I don’t see anyone?” “An old friend of mine.” Sky thought the look on Four’s face was reminiscent of the look they usually reserved for sunrise, and decided not to press further, even before they added, “Quest thing.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on high alert now that they were outside the city. “I’ve got your back. If your friend is here, out of time, they are likely in trouble. The others will understand.”

Four was hardly listening, trudging on ahead towards a wooded area. That seemed to be where Shadow was pointing towards. The closer the three got the more insistent its pointing became, and Four thought it a wonder Sky hadn’t noticed yet. “It’s fine, I'm coming, I’m coming, relax. I’ll get you outta there.”

Night was falling as they got to the woods, and it was doing nothing to help Sky’s nerves. Something didn’t feel right, but without all the information he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Four stopped dead in front of him and spun in a circle, clearly taking in the area with a confused look on their face. “Shit.” Four threw up their shield and shoved Sky out of the way of an attack from behind. 

Sky pulled out the Master Sword and turned, he had expected some monsters, Four had seemed convinced that someone was in trouble, so that was almost inevitable, but this? This mouse-like Hylian still had his feet in Four’s shadow, as if he had climbed his way out of it to attack them, and Four? Four looked angrier than Sky had thought possible. “What?”

“It was so easy to convince you away from the city, Violet.” The new threat laughed. “It's a shame you brought some company, but that's easy enough dealt with.” “Vaati.” Four almost seemed to growl. And now Sky understood their anger. Four's father had spoken of Vaati, and the thing Vaati had taken from Four. “How dare you make me think you were Shadow to get me here.”

“Ah, but it worked, didn’t it?” Vaati almost looked disappointed. “Not that I could have used it to lure you out anyways. It disappeared from the void months ago.”

Sky had several questions, but judging by the look on Four’s face, so did they. “What do you mean, disappeared from the void?”

“Well if I knew that, I would have it back in my possession, now wouldn’t I. Honestly, you heroes.” The Mage rolled his eyes, looking quite a bit bored with the conversation.

“Shadow?” Sky mumbled out, he doubted he would get an answer, but all things considered, the implication that Four had been following their own shadow was perhaps the most confusing part of all this.

“Yes. Shadow.” Vaati seemed like he was barely entertaining the idea of responding to Sky. “Shadow Link. Traitorous little vermin.”

“Shut the Fuck up.” And oh, if Sky had thought Four was mad before. They further answered Sky’s inquiry, though it was directed at Vaati. “Shadow was my friend, and a hero in its own right. Sacrificing itself for the good of Hyrule.”

Vaati scoffed. “Friend. As if.” Sky wondered, for a moment, what that meant. If What Four was saying was true then he had no doubt that Shadow and Four had been friends. “I know what you two were.” And suddenly Sky was reminded of sunrises. Of Four never missing one. Of the look they had following what they had thought was Shadow, a look so reminiscent of their sunrise look.

As understanding bloomed in Sky’s chest he stepped forwards, Master Sword pointed to Vaati. “That is more than enough out of you. If you want something from us, tell me now, otherwise, fight me.”

"What I want is the top general in my army back, but seeing as it's both a traitor, and missing, I will settle for it's brilliant tactician of a fiancé." Vaati sneered. "Not that they aren't also a traitor. Really, how have you heroes managed to keep Violet on your side for so long?"

Four paled at that, looking to Sky with nothing but devastation on their face. "Sky, listen, it's not what it sounds like."

"Oh really?" Vaati ignored Sky's sword, still pointed at him, to move closer to Four. "You didn't turn your back on Hyrule and join me?"

"No, I-"

"And you didn't turn your back on us and try to kill the very shadow you claim to love so much?"

Four looked like they were going to be sick, or perhaps have another panic attack. "I. I didn't know."

Sky got between the two, slashing at Vaati to force the mage away from his friend. "Four isn't going anywhere with you."

"Oh no, whatever will I do? This pathetic little hero. has told me no!" The winds whipped up as Vaati spoke, sarcasm dripping out of every word.

Sky lowered his stance, blocking Four from Vaati's view and getting ready to fight. Vaati smirked at him, and he glared back. Lunging forward he noted that the mage didn't even move, but he didn't need to. Just before Sky made contact he heard Four cry his name out in alarm, and he turned. He wasn't fast enough to register or stop the thing flying at him, but he did see the terrified look on Four's face, and then everything went black.

[ratmonky]

Curse of Innocence

A gift to my best friend for an eternity, @anti-interesting​

Word Count: 18.2K

Warnings: dub-con, gaslighting, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, cuckolding, bullying, obsession, alcohol

AO3 Link

“Ya heard?”

“Heard what?” Geto asked with a sigh, exhaling his smoke along the way and watching Gojo munch on an anpan. That guy was eating too many sweets nowadays, he was going to gain weight.

“Apparently, there’s gonna be someone transferring here next semester.” Gojo took another bite from his snack and chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “Shoko said it’s gonna be a girl.”

“So what?” Geto raised a brow. It would be good for Shoko, there weren’t many girls on the campus, it would definitely mean that they could slip away from doing all the cleaning in the dorms as well.

“I call dibs.” A sinister smile was on his face.

Geto paused for a moment to stare at his friend and snorted. “You’re such a lout.” He pretended to wipe an imaginary tear from his eye. “She’s probably like Shoko, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Nooo, I heard she’s a pipsqueak. Preciously charming and weak, at least according to Nanami who met her when she was visiting.” Gojo’s smile widened, eyes sparkling with dark intent. “Well, it doesn’t matter, since you’re not interested, it means I didn’t even need to call dibs, huh?”

Silence.

It had been a while since the last girl had dropped out. They were already going to become third years soon and it was boring here. Shoko wasn’t dumb enough to fall for their tricks or be a part of them and there weren’t any other girls around.

This new girl could change it. She could be the new entertainment.

“Hey,” Geto started, he was trying really hard to not let his lips curl up into a smile but he was failing. Gojo noticed it, eyes squinting and waiting for what his friend had to say. “Wanna go halfsies instead?”

~~~

The campus looked larger and more elegant than your previous sorcerer academy, you were impressed if not relieved. Although there were too many buildings and it was covered by trees, you hoped you could feel at home once you settled.

“So, what do you think?” Shoko suddenly asked.

You were hurrying after her with your bags and luggage. You nodded and when you realized she couldn’t see you since she was walking ahead, you spoke. “I think here is where I belong! It’s quite large and quiet, I love it!”

“I’m glad you think so, it’s large but it’s easy to get lost so make sure to not wander off alone.” She turned to look at you and flashed a smile. “Let’s move on to the dormitory.”

Finally, you were in front of a huge compound-like traditional house.

“This is the dormitory. Both girls and boys use it. Well, we have separate wards and bathrooms but we all stay in this building, it’s our duty to keep it clean and stock up the necessities with the allowance the academy gives us.”

Your mouth opened in admiration, the place was huge. Bigger than your parents’ house. Double… no triple the size of their house.

Shoko opened the door and invited you in. The entrance was small, you took off your shoes.

“Leave your bags here, I’ll first show you the left-wing of the building.”

Nodding, you followed Shoko towards the common room and the kitchen.

“We all hang out here mostly, the guys usually rent movies on Saturdays so they do movie nights here. The kitchen always needs to be clean. Do not leave any dishes out to do them later, wash them right away or put them in the machine. Then there’s this coffee machine-” Her shoulders slouched and she sighed as she showed you the broken handle by pointing a finger at it. “It’s broken but don’t throw it out. We use the oven mittens to grab the decanter. If you want coffee in the morning, come by at seven sharp because Nanami often gets over himself and drinks the whole thing.”

“It’s fine,” you said, putting a hand on your hip. “I like instant coffee better, it’s more convenient and easier to make when I want more. You don’t need to make extra coffee for me or anything. I even brought some with me.”

Shoko raised her brows and smiled at your feigned solace. It was easy to tell, acting confident when your hands were shaking from trying to keep up the facade. “Make sure to hide your coffee then, we share the place with two greedy guys and another caffeine addict like me. But again, I wouldn’t mind sharing my coffee with you, it’s practically nothing too important so don’t hesitate to take some.”

The two of you continued chatting before finally, Shoko took you towards the library and the study rooms after passing the dining hall.

“We have a bigger library but this is for when we need to study here. The books are all about curses, sorcery, and the history of sorcerers.” Shoko said, leaning against the door frame and watching you admire the books she knew no other library had.

Your eyes landed on a hardcover book and you gasped in excitement. “I can’t believe this! You guys have a copy of Sukuna’s Impact on the Japanese History?”

Shoko smiled smugly, “It’s the original.”

“Ahh, you’re so lucky.” You put the book back and smiled at her. “My previous academies only taught us about clans and curses, this is like on another level for me. I’m so happy I transferred here. It’s nice to finally become a student in one of only two of the best jujutsu schools.”

“You know…” Shoko pointed at the book you put back, “You can take it.”

“Can I?” You beamed, your cheeks flushing.

“Well, it’s here so the students can read it. You can take and read any book you like as long as you’re going to return them.”

You gently pulled the book out from the shelf and held it against your chest with both arms wrapped around it. “I’m gonna read this tonight.”

“Knock yourself up,” she chuckled, the boyish and geeky side of you was already showing through.

While you were lost in your thoughts, planning how you were going to read about that one curse anatomy book you saw after this one, Shoko’s voice filled your ears. “At the end of this hall is the laundry room. There’s an equipment room and a large pantry.” She snapped her fingers as if to remember something, “Ah yes, cleaning supplies are also in the laundry room. Nanami will show you those on Sunday, we all clean the whole building weekly.”

You nodded slowly, processing all this information.

“Now, it’s time I show you to your room…” Shoko walked past you and back to the common room and then to the entrance once again.

Quickly, grabbing your bags, you followed her to the right side of the building. This side was broader. She slid open the door and continued walking in a straight line. “Here’s the boys’ dorm.” Her eyes landed on the stairs leading upstairs. “Ours is upstairs. It’s divided poorly, I know.”

You sighed and she chuckled. Climbing the stairs was hard when you had so many bags with you.

Shoko slid open the door and ignored a couple of doors until she reached the one that had her name on it, “This is my room, yours is next to mine.” She pointed at the door next to hers before fishing out a pair of keys from her pocket. “There you go.”

You took the keys after putting down one of your bags. “Why are there so many?”

“It’s for the entire campus. One for the library, our rooms, the building’s door, and many more that you’ll figure out on Monday.”

“Okay.” You looked around and saw that there was another door at the end of the hall.

“Behind that is the girls’ bathroom. Leave that sliding door open after you’ve taken a shower otherwise it gets really foggy on the other side of the hall.” Shoko put her hand on her hips and rested her weight on one leg. “That’s it. You can get settled now. I’ll call you out for dinner.”

You bowed down slightly, “Thank you for showing me around. I hope we get along well, Ieiri.”

“Ah, you’re being too formal! Please call me Shoko.” Shoko grinned but bowed her head out of habit. “Let’s get along well, (name).”

Smiling, you repeated her name quietly. Perhaps the two of you could be really close friends even though you were going to be here for a year.

“One last thing,” Shoko said, just as you had unlocked the door to your room. “It’s a piece of advice from me.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let the boys see you as weak. They’ll tease you for it.” She looked serious, her friendly smile and big, wide eyes were gone, replaced by a frown and half-lidded look.

“I can handle a little bit of teasing!” You were grinning, putting on the facade again. “Besides if you don’t get teased for being weak, how will you get determined to improve yourself, haha, right?”

Shoko didn’t answer.

Your smile slowly faded.

“Just… be careful.” She turned around on her heels. “Nanami’s fine, though. At least I think so.”

That was the last thing she said before walking away from you and sliding the door to the hall closed, leaving you confused.

Dumbfounded, you walked inside your own room, hoping that you could get the most out of your senior year here in Tokyo Jujutsu High. Unaware of the things to come.

~~~

As soon as Shoko put a foot down on the main floor, she heard the chatter coming from the common room.

She exited the dormitory and slid the door closed behind her. When she arrived at the common room, she found Geto giving Nanami a pack of cigarettes.

“Yo, Shoko!” Gojo waved at her from the couch he was sitting on. “Did the girl settle in yet? What does she look like? Does she have big boo-”

Geto slammed his fist on top of Gojo’s head. “Ah, Shoko, your brand of cigarettes was sold out, I bought the same brand as mine.” Retrieving his hand from the dumb one’s head, he reached inside the plastic bag and pulled out the pack to hold it towards her.

Shoko’s eyes were on Nanami as she walked closer to Geto and snatched her pack. “Thanks.”

Nanami hid his in the hidden pocket of his school jacket before speaking. “I didn’t know you were here, Ieiri.”

“You started smoking a little too early, Nanami,” Shoko squinted her eyes in irritation. “And you, why are you buying cigarettes for him? Shouldn’t you be an example of a great senior year jujutsu student?” She was pointing at Geto who shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

“What? Are ya gonna rat on us?” Gojo grinned as well and got up from the couch to pat Nanami on the back. “Besides, Nanami’s a responsible adult now, he bought it himself!”

Nanami nodded reluctantly to confirm.

“He turned eighteen barely a week ago.” Shoko rolled her eyes and her eyes landed on Geto holding his pack of cigarettes out to her. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Here.”

“Why?”

“So you won’t tell anyone.” Geto was smirking. “Also a gift before you leave for your training.”

“That’s a cheap bribe.” Shoko took the pack with an eerie smile.

“She took it anyway,” Nanami scoffed softly.

“They’re scary~” Gojo leaned towards Nanami. “Smokers are easy to bribe with more of those killer sticks.”

“What’s for dinner?” Nanami then asked, ignoring the idiot.

“Since I’m on kitchen duty tonight, I was thinking curry and rice, since it’ll be five of us from now on so we can’t eat takeout all the time.” Shoko put the cigarette packs in her coat pockets and walked towards the kitchen. “It’d be nicer if one of you helped me cook too.”

Both Geto and Gojo put a hand on Nanami’s back to push him forward.

When Shoko glanced over her shoulder, it looked like Nanami was silently following her to the kitchen to help her. “Thanks, Nanami, I appreciate it.”

While the second year was glowering at the other two seniors for sacrificing him, Geto took out another pack of cigarettes he had hidden in his pants’ pocket.

“I’m gonna go out for a smoke,” he said, informing his friend.

Without saying anything, Gojo followed him out. They walked down a path leading to Geto’s secret smoking spot.

“We didn’t get any first years this semester,” Gojo pouted. “I was looking forward to it.”

“You just want them to idolize you,” Geto tore the packaging of the cigarettes open and pulled one out, putting it between his lips.

“I just wanna have younger people cheer for me! I miss being told how great I am!” Gojo pouted, acting cutesy. “Nobody praises me anymore.”

Geto lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, “We’re not children anymore, that’s why.”

“It motivates me when someone tells me I’m strong~” He leaned his back against a tree and looked at his friend over his sunglasses. “I bet, the new girl will be all over me.”

“Maybe she will,” he answered, exhaling the smoke with a smirk. “Shall we do the friendly and stoic guy gimmick again or try something else?”

“Nuh-uh! Overly friendly classmates! That always works!” Gojo laughed to himself and paused. “I just got shivers thinking about it.” Wrapping his arms around himself, Gojo trembled. “Ahh, I hope she’s the errand girl type.”

“Why?”

“Those are easier to trick.”

Geto hummed before nodding languidly. “You’re right. They are also considerably obedient, they’d do anything to not upset anyone.”

“A people pleaser like that girl who dropped out! They are pretty adorable,” Gojo chuckled. “Ahh, what was her name again?”

Shrugging, Geto took a whiff of his cigarette before giving a blatant reply. “Who knows.”

~~~

When there was a knock on your door, you were already done packing and were reading the book you had borrowed from the library.

Closing the book and putting a small divider on the page you were reading, you walked up to the door.

Although you were expecting Shoko to be on the other side when you opened the door, there was a blonde guy standing in the hall.

“Hii,” you chirped. “I think we met before!” It took you a small pause to remember his name. “Nanamin… right?”

“Nanami,” he corrected, looking anywhere but at your face to avoid making eye contact. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Sorry… Thanks for letting me know.”

As he was getting ready to turn around and leave you walked out of your room, closing the door behind you to tail after him.

Not really the type to enjoy small talk, Nanami felt obliged to say something when the two of you reached the stairs. “It’s curry and rice.”

“Hmm?”

“The food. It’s dinner and rice.”

“Ahh, it had been a while since I last ate curry. Did you cook it?”

“I only helped Ieiri to make rice.”

“That’s still cooking,” you giggled and offered him a pat on the back. “Next time I need someone to cook rice, I know who to call.”

Nanami chuckled at that.

You were also grinning like an idiot, stupidly happy for no reason other than managing to make him chuckle.

Inside the dining hall, Shoko was already seated, Nanami quickly sat on an empty chair.

“Nice dress,” Shoko commented when she saw you bouncing on your heels, unsure of where to sit. Twirling around to show off your dress, you thanked her with a smile. Soon after she pointed at a seat next to hers, “You can sit here.”

“How many are we?” you asked, noticing how there were only two more plates placed down on the table.

Before Shoko could answer, two guys entered the dining hall, laughing merrily.

You turned around and stared at the guy with raven black hair, it was half tied up, his hair was long and silky, dark eyes blinked before they landed on you. His lips curled up to a smile.

The guy beside him was grinning from ear to ear. “You must be the new girl!” Either the guy was a loud fellow or he was very nervous talking to you because his voice got only louder each time he opened his mouth to speak. “Ugh, it’s very nice to meet you, hope we get along well.” He rubbed his neck nervously, “I’m Satoru Gojo!!” His tone changed into something a lot softer and his cheeks flushed pink. It was even more noticeable when he reached in for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Gojo,” you replied and took his hand. “I’m (name).”

“You have such a nice name, perfectly fitted for a girl like you,” he smiled. And with that, he blushed even harder.

“Thank you,” you chuckled, your cheeks also blushing a little because of the intensity of his stare.

Gojo then encouraged another man who looked a similar age to you to introduce himself as well but the guy didn’t. He stared at you instead. His dark eyes wandered on your face for a moment too long before he clicked his tongue with a smile. And while you were staring back at him, you noticed something. He was magnetic almost, pulling you towards himself.

He reached in to shake your hand, “Suguru Geto.”

“(n-name).” Sharply gasping, your cheeks flushed and your heart started throbbing hastily in your chest but you tried to look indifferent. “N-nice to meet you two.”

He and the other guy exchanged a knowing look with each other when you stuttered.

~~~

“Argh! I thought we were both going for the friendly and shy guy!” Gojo rubbed his nose bridge while cringing. “You made me look sooo stupid. I told you to stop with the stoic guy thing!”

Geto was indifferent as he flipped a page of his book. “Well, she fell for it anyway.”

“You’re trying to steal her, right?” Gojo started pacing around the room. “I should’ve known! Ahh, you’re so scary, I hate you.”

“That’s not it.” Geto closed his book with a sigh, keeping a finger between the pages to not lose which page he was reading. “She’ll trust me and come to me if things get out of hand instead of going directly to someone else. We have to think ahead or it’ll end up like the others.”

“Still, you could’ve told me something before I embarrassed myself! Nanami and Shoko were holding in their laughs ya know!”

“You always make a fool of yourself so what’s the difference?”

Gojo visibly tensed, Geto had managed to get on his nerves.

“I apologize,” Geto said to avoid conflict. “Since I upset you, I’ll let you take the first step.”

With that his friend pushed his sunglasses up to his hair, smiling foolishly. “That’s very generous of ya.”

Geto realized he may have made a mistake to let Gojo take the lead. His friend enjoyed watching more than being a part of it.

~~~

The next day, your uniform came.

“It’s cute,” Shoko said, looking up from the magazine she was reading.

“Really? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have a gakuen-like uniform. Does it suit me?” You frowned as you struck poses in front of the mirror.

“What’s important is if you can move in it. You’re going to wear that while fighting curses.” She sat up on your bed to get a better look at your uniform.

“You’re right…” You smoothed the fabric of your skirt and decided that it was perfect. “I think I like it.” Turning around to face Shoko, you smiled. “It’s so unfortunate that you’re going away to train as soon as I start though…”

“I’m not exactly the fighter type, I’m trying to become an autopsy technician after I get my degree.” Shoko mirrored your smile. “So you better be careful on your missions or I might be the one to dissect you.”

“I could never look at a dead body yet you’re willing to do that as a job?” You got goosebumps on your skin, “You must be very strong!”

“Mentally? Yes. Physically? Not at all.”

“By the way… why do you wanna become a jujutsu sorcerer?” As simple as the question was, it differed from person to person. Nobody wanted to become a jujutsu sorcerer for the fun of it.

Taken aback, it took her a long moment before she answered. “Money, not being sure what to do with the power to see curses, not having a future as a normal civilian. I don’t know, could be all of them at once.” She noticed your smile widening as if you were fascinated by her choice of path for the future. “What about you?”

Your answer was quick, you said it with your whole chest, eyes twinkling with determination. “To protect people from curses and collect all of Sukuna’s fingers.”

“Woah, talk about being selfless,” Shoko joked but you didn’t laugh. “While I’m away, you should hang out with Nanami and avoid conflict. Heated arguments can make all the hell break lose.”

You nodded in response.

“You don’t like to be seen as selfless, huh?” She didn’t want to leave for the internship tomorrow like this. It was clear you were upset. “Is there a special reason for you to hate it?”

You fidgeted with your fingers, confident and cheerful girl facade wavering yet again. “It makes people think that I’m weak. That I wanna become a sorcerer to feel better about myself when I actually wanna do something good with the power I was gifted.”

Ahh, the type who wanted to leave an impact. Rather, desperate to have some sort of validation.

At that moment, Shoko pitied you. “You care what people think about you, don’t you?”

“I… do.” Shoulders slouched and with those fidgeting fingers, you looked anything but confident.

“What others may think of you doesn’t truly define you. It’s hard to accept but not everyone will like you. It’s impossible to be loved by everyone, so you should worry about getting your degree along with your sorcery license.”

She was trying to encourage you but it felt more like a talk some adult would give to a kid that wouldn’t stop crying.

“Y-yeah, I’ll do that.”

Shoko got up from your bed and ruffled your hair, “You have my number and email address. You can contact me whenever you wanna.”

With the mood lightening, you were able to fix your posture and nod rapidly. “Same goes for you too!”

~~~

Monday started with you and the others seeing Shoko off from the bus station. The four of you took the bus that came after hers.

“This bus goes all the way to the stop by the campus and down to here.” Nanami handed you a card. “Ieiri told me to give this to you. It’s a transportation card. Works with everything.”

You took the card and thanked him as you put it in. “Tokyo is a bigger city than I thought.”

“Let’s see,” Gojo turned around his seat to stare at you and Nanami. He clasped his chin between his thumb and knuckle, thinking carefully. “There were two different curses reported around here. We should split up and meet back up in the dormitory when we’re done.”

“Wait,” you said, chuckling nervously. “We’re gonna deal with curses by ourselves? Without a supervisor?”

Three of them stared at you in the same confusion you were looking at them.

“We learn on the field after the first year,” Geto explained. “Most of the schedule for us is exorcising curses. We don’t have classes on campus nowadays either. Our teacher is abroad.”

“B-but isn’t it dangerous to exorcise curses without a teacher or a professional sorcerer around?”

“Was that how it worked back in your previous schools?” Nanami was trying to be understanding, you clearly weren’t confident in your abilities or needed supervision.

“Y-yeah. I-I mean curses can be really dangerous and we’re still not professionals.”

“You’re overthinking it!” Gojo said, looking at you over his sunglasses. “We can go together, you and me. I’m the strongest so you don’t need to worry about anything.”

Geto sighed, glancing over his shoulder to look at Nanami. “You’re okay with being paired up with me?”

Nanami shrugged.

“Great!” Gojo pressed the stop button attached to the pole. “(name), come on! This is our stop.”

Nanami got up from his seat to let you follow after Gojo towards the bus door.

“It’s only my first day…” You hesitated.

“You’ll do fine,” Geto encouraged, “Satoru will help you out.”

You blushed faintly and bowed your head in acknowledgment as the vehicle rolled to a stop.

“Satoru, don’t force her too much on her first day.” Geto was smirking when the doors opened.

“Sure sure. I won’t.” Gojo waved at him lazily and got off the bus with you. He turned around, stretching his arms over his head before talking. “Do you use cursed tools to exorcise curses?”

“Sometimes-”

Without letting you finish your words, Gojo pulled out a dagger from the inner pocket of his jacket. “You’ll need this then. Curses here in Tokyo are intelligent.”

Grabbing the dagger from him, you nodded sluggishly. “O-okay.”

Once you put the dagger in your utility belt, he draped his arm over your shoulder and started walking, leading you towards an alleyway. “Now, tell me all about yourself! I need to know everything.” He was pressing you to his side, his hand on your shoulder slowly slid down to your waist.

“Um, Gojo… this is a little t-too close,” you mumbled shyly.

Gojo leaned down, his face got awfully close to yours. He managed to bite down the urge to grin. “Sorry, what’s that? I didn’t hear what you said.”

You were completely silent, blushing in embarrassment and looking away. “N-nothing.”

“Hmm.” His fingers pressed on your hip, caressing your skin over the fabric of your skirt softly. “How have you been liking Tokyo and our college so far?” he asked, leading you down another street.

“It’s been barely three days… but I can say that it’s different from where I come from.” That was all you had to say as you tried to not give much thought to his hand on your hip. You dipped your head in a nod when he gestured towards another alleyway.

“You’ll love it here! Shoko said she liked you already and I can tell we’re gonna be really close too!” he laughed, his smile was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile despite being uncomfortable. “Maybe you’ll even befriend Suguru in the future!”

“I-is it hard to befriend him?” Oh, so innocent.

“Definitely,” Gojo let out a dramatic sigh. “He doesn’t trust people that easily but I hope you’ll be able to see him smile one day. It’s a sight ya don’t see often.”

“How could I befriend him?” you politely asked.

“By befriending me!” he replied, his thumb drawing circles over your clothes. “It took me two whole years to gain his respect ya know. I can help speed up the progress by telling ya all about him.”

To move away from his hand without saying anything that might make you seem like such a prude, you pressed yourself flush against his side but it only made everything worse. His hand slid further down your hips, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and-

“Don’t!” you suddenly said, pushing him away from yourself.

Gojo looked dumbfounded and confused as to why you were upset. “What happened?”

“It’s just…” The expression on his face made you feel guilty. He clearly had no ulterior intentions or anything. You were overreacting. You had to be overreacting.

“Ahh.” He softly slapped a hand on his forehead, “Sorry, I must’ve been too friendly. I’m the type to be comfortable around friends pretty easily. Shoko told me to be careful but I clearly failed, so sorry again if I made you uncomfortable,” he said, catching you off guard.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. Now, you were going to be known as some prude who thought everyone who came close to you was after you.

“N-no, I was the one overreacting. I-it was just too overwhelming for me I guess, I don’t know. Please don’t blame yourself!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gojo said, smiling brokenly. “I’m used to it.”

You had messed up already. It was only your first day but you had already managed to make the cheerful guy somber.

“The curse is in that abandoned building,” he pointed towards a two-floored apartment building, changing the subject. “Let’s exorcise it and return back to the campus.”

It was silent between you up until you arrived at the building and entered it.

“I’ll check upstairs so you should check here.” Gojo’s tone was colder than ice, it lacked the usual chipper you had grown used to in such a short time. “Just call out my name if you need help.”

“Yessir!” you chirped, trying to ease the mood. To add to the goofiness, you saluted but Gojo didn’t do anything more than stare at you blankly. Somehow, it made you feel even worse. Now, you were both embarrassed and guilty.

Quietly, Gojo climbed up the stairs, leaving you alone.

Ugh! This was the worst. What Shoko had said before had scared you and put you on the edge around the guys. You had to be out of your mind to ruin your relationships with your classmates over a possible prank Shoko had pulled on you.

“Help-”

You jolted, listening carefully.

It was quiet again.

Maybe it was your imagination.

“Help!”

This time it was loud and clear, you walked further inside the building and listened again. “Hello?”

“Over here.”

The voice was coming from upstairs.

“Gojo! Are you hearing this?!”

No response.

A sudden rush of panic took over your senses.

Was Gojo hurt?

Unconscious?

Was he ignoring you?

Was it all of the above?

Without any hesitation, you climbed up the stairs and walked along the long hallway until you reached a dead end.

A low growl filled your ears and cold shivers went down your spine. You could feel the presence of something evil behind you, something with a ton of cursed energy. Definitely not a low-grade curse, maybe a grade one but nothing lower than that.

Turning around was a simple task, you could have done it solely by thinking about doing it but your legs wouldn’t budge. Your hand that was clutching on your belt to pull out the cursed tool Gojo had given you was shaking violently, nevertheless how you had exorcised some other curses in the past, this was the first time you were facing one alone, without anyone watching over you.

The cursed energy coming from the creature filled all of your senses and wrecked your nerves. It was as if you were drowning after being stung by a jellyfish, the shock was making you unable to move and although you were about to die, you couldn’t do anything about it.

What a way to go!

Dying on your first day on the field after embarrassing yourself in front of a classmate who clearly was defeated by this curse, otherwise, where could he be?

A sharp breath left your lips when the curse abruptly pulled you into its skin, absorbing you into its flesh and many hands it had started groping you.

The hands were going under your skirt, caressing your inner thighs, fondling your tits as you sank deeper into its flesh without fighting back. Then there was the wetness, warm, slick muscle wrapped around your throat before moving up towards your face. It was a tongue you realized. The wet muscle forced itself between your lips and pried your jaw open to snake itself down your throat.

Tears started streaming down your face right away. Multiple hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thighs and tits roughly as the tongue started swirling around in your mouth. Foreign feelings of all of the hands and a wet muscle grazing the back of your throat were too overwhelming, your head got lightweight, eyes rolling up. You were about to lose consciousness, it had to be the curse’s doing.

“Ah, you’ve found the curse.” Gojo’s voice was the last thing you heard before your vision went dark.

Gojo on the other hand was smirking, secretly glad that you weren’t able to see his cock swelling up under his pants as he was watching you get violated by the curse. Your body was still reacting to its tongue moving inside your mouth, eyelashes fluttering, and legs desperately trying to press together from involuntary pleasure.

It was quite a sight to see. Having your legs spread open by many hands of the curse that was ignoring him wasn’t something he had been exactly planning to see today but he was grateful nonetheless.

The hands that were spreading your legs moved further up towards your inner thighs, hiking your skirt up completely before another hand helplessly tried to tore your panties off of you.

Now, it was going a little too far.

“Over the clothes is fine but trying to touch her bare skin… you’re getting ahead of yourself, you shrimp.” Gojo rolled his eyes, curses could be excessively selfish, thinking that they own everything.

With a flick of his finger, he exorcised the curse in an instant. Its body exploded into a million different pieces and your body, released from its groping hands fell on the ground in a silent thud.

The next thing that echoed in the empty building was the sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper being undone.

~~~

You jolted awake, eyes wet with tears and body trembling.  

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice above you was worried yet calming. “It’s just a nightmare, I’m here. You’re safe.”

You were being torn apart, emotions a wreck that couldn’t be fixed. Memories of what had happened washed over you frantically, leaving you breathless. Your arms quickly reached for the only person in front of you, begging for his closeness to feel comfort.

Gojo’s reaction was a bit delayed, but he carefully wrapped his arms around you and almost immediately you started sobbing pathetically.

The curse was gone, you couldn’t feel its presence. He must have exorcised it to save you. All you ever did today was to cause trouble for him.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, in between sobs.

“Hey, there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Gojo’s voice was soft like honey, his sunglasses were pushed up to his hair and he was holding you in his lap. “Are you alright? Have you calmed down a bit?”

You frowned, tears gushing out from your eyes again. “I-I was so scared.”

“Anyone would be.” With your head pressed on his chest, you could hear his chest rumbling as he spoke. “You’re safe now.”

You sobbed as you remembered what had happened once again.

“What happened?” he asked, lulling you into a false sense of comfort, pulling you closer towards the trap.

You told him your story, slowly, a little at a time with small breaks of you crying.

You were raised in the hopes of becoming the head of your clan, forced to act tough, and were taught to be caring and loving yet you had never received any real love or care from anyone. You were in no way treated fairly by anyone.

So you had assumed the role of the caretaker of others with a facade of a motherly figure. You helped others and hoped to get happiness in return but in no way it was as easy as you had hoped. People were only loving to you when you were doing something for them in return and that was how you noticed you could be loved. By being useful to others. And eventually the habit of taking care of others to feel validated developed inside you. However that also became a problem, you were now being seen as weak, someone who could never lead others. Then you were sent to many different jujutsu colleges in the hopes that you could become somewhat more courageous and leader-like.

But that never happened, you couldn’t change what you were or what others would think of you no matter what. You felt lost for many years.

Later after being told that the Tokyo Jujutsu High could be the one to fix you, you had transferred here overnight.

You had thought moving to Tokyo was going to be like any other place but as soon as you arrived at the campus and met the others, you felt the warm feeling of a home. You realized you belonged here.

People here treated you like a person. Like you were a part of whatever they had going on here without judging you for being weak like any other people you had met so far would.

For a while, he was oddly quiet. He listened to your sobbing and sharp inhales until they calmed down.

“Well,” Gojo pressed his cheek on top of your head, arms tightening around you and legs moving to bring you closer on his lap.  “What can I do to ease your pain?”

You pressed a hand on your cheek to wipe your tears to save yourself from the stickiness but most of it was dried snot, or at least that was what you thought it was. “Right now, I just wanna go home. I feel so dirty…”

“Yeah,” he spoke into your hair, taking a long whiff. “Smells like you need a shower.”

The reason why you were crying past forgotten, a laugh escaped you and you smacked your hand on his chest playfully. “Hey!”

“Whaaaat? You stink!” Gojo used his thumb and forefinger to press his nostrils together as he grimaced.

Pausing, you looked up to him through your lashes, suddenly self-conscious. “D-do I?”

Gojo’s arms around you were kind of pressing you down onto his crotch and his flip phone was poking your ass but you tried to ignore it, you didn’t want to cause another misunderstanding as he leaned forward towards you. “Let me check again.”

He pressed his nose into your hair but you didn’t hear him inhaling. When you turned to look at him, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Face completely blushed, your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat.

After a long sniff, his hand on your back reached further around to wrap tighter around your shoulders to press you flush against his body. “I take it back, ya smell nice.” He spoke into your skin, lips brushing against your neck and the hot breath of his mouth making goosebumps prickle your skin.

You let out a breathy laugh to cover your nervousness. “T-thanks!”

He smiled against your skin before pulling himself back. “But I’d say ya still need a shower. You smell exactly like a booger.”

“You! You were just-!” You pushed him away as you blushed furiously, flustered by all of his teasings. “You’re soo mean!”

“Hehe, I’m mean? I saved your life, ya know!”

That was true. The unpleasant memories flashed in front of your eyes once again but this time, Gojo was ready to help you get up to your feet and exit the building to go back home while holding his hand.

“There’s this ramen place down this street, let’s eat lunch before we return, whaddya say?” His glee had returned, his smile was more gorgeous than you had realized.

“O-okay!” You let him intertwine your fingers together but blushed harder as a result.

~~~

“Ah, the others are still out…” you said as soon as you stepped inside the dormitory. Their shoes weren’t by the entrance.

“We have the whole place to ourselves, isn’t it great?” Gojo kicked off his shoes to walk further inside. “We can watch this one movie I rented out last week… ah... I forgot to return it… Anyway! We can still watch it! The movie’s about-”

“I think I’m gonna take a shower first,” you shyly interrupted. “But we can still watch it after I’m done!”

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “I see, you should be quick then. Once Suguru and Nanami come back, we won’t be able to do anything.”

You nodded, hurrying up to the girls’ dorm, grabbing clothes and your towel to head towards the showers but then you saw the large sign with big red letters just as you were about to enter.

Although you were already bummed out about not finding your body towel and only had your hair towel with you, the sign made your day worse.

Walking downstairs, you found the person you were looking for in the kitchen.

“Um, Gojo?”

The guy mentioned closed the cabinet he was checking and his lips curled up into a smile but it disappeared as soon as he turned to face you. “Yeah?”

“It says that the water pipes are damaged upstairs…” Hugging your clothes and towel tighter on your chest, you raised your eyebrows to ask him something he had planned for you to ask. “Where am I supposed to shower?”

Gojo hummed in thought. “Well, you can use our bathroom. I can stay on the lookout for you so Suguru or Nanami won’t walk in on you.”

You looked hesitant but you had learned to trust Gojo. He had made sure of that.

“O-okay.”

“Leave your dirty clothes in the basket by the door, I'll wash them for you.” He walked around the counter to put an arm around you, walking you towards the boys’ bathroom.

“I can do it,” you said softly.

“I’m gonna wash my stuff anyway so I can do it for ya!” he insisted, easily having had figured out that you couldn’t say no to people.

Nodding reluctantly, you spoke after clearing your throat. “Can you please make sure nobody comes in? I-I would feel safe if I knew you told them to not come in.”

“Of course!! I’ll call Suguru right away!” Gojo offered you a polite smile. You stood in front of the bathroom door, he pushed you inside. “So it’s the exact same as the upstairs but the only difference is that you should wear one of those slippers while showering.” He grabbed a large pair of slippers for you, putting them in front of you as you were taking your socks off. “Do not, and I mean this, do not walk barefoot here. We don’t clean the floors, we should but we won’t.”

“That’s kinda icky…”

“You can clean it if you wanna but we won’t.”

“It should be your job to clean your own dorm.” You put on the slippers with a sigh.

“Take your clothes off and take your shower before they return or I’ll bring them in here.”

“What!?”

“You heard me.”

Of course, you heard him. You were blushing furiously.

Gojo giggled and walked over to you. “You can’t bathe in your clothes, can you?” He pulled you out of the shower area. “Come on!”

“I-I will! You have to get out first!”

He stared at you with deadpan eyes, almost in disbelief. “I thought you wanted me in here so nobody would come in?”

When you blushed harder, his facade fell and he snorted before long he was laughing merrily.

“You’re so easy to tease!”

Covering your face in embarrassment, you told him to leave politely.

“I will I will!” He ruffled your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be back to collect your laundry so don’t freak out about that, right?”

“R-right.”

“So adorable…” He patted on your head one last time before leaving.

As soon as he left, you took your uniform off, folding them neatly to put them in the small laundry basket. Since after this separation you only needed your towel, you left your clean clothes next to the basket, folding them as well.

Sluggishly, you unhooked your bra and slipped out of your panties, placing them in between your clean clothes. There was no way you were going to let Gojo wash your underwear, that was too… too-

You were blushing and had to internally shake your head to clear your thoughts. Once naked, you wrapped your hair towel around your body, it was a lot shorter than you thought, not the actual towel you planned on using to cover your body. Ugh, whatever. You were going to get out of the showers and put on your clothes anyway. It didn’t matter what length of towel you had.

After taking a deep breath you walked into the bath area to take a shower.

~~~

Gojo had all of your clothes in the laundry basket and was walking towards the laundry room when Geto entered the dormitory with Nanami.

“Yo Suguru!” he chirped, “Don’t enter the bath, she’s in there taking a shower.”

Geto snorted, covering his mouth with a hand, “It really worked huh?”

They were all standing in the common room as Gojo nodded rapidly. “It’s all thanks to Nanami, his handwriting is soooo professional. I bet she thought it was from some janitor or something. She didn’t even question how Shoko was able to shower just this morning.”

While Geto and Gojo were snickering, Nanami was staring down at his feet. “Can you keep me out of this one?”

“Eh?” Gojo deadpanned. “Getting cold feet already? You promised you’d join in?! This is a once in a lifetime chance, Nanami~”

“Don’t force him,” Geto said, still a smile plastered on his face. “I think he’ll get around anyway.”

Gojo’s grin returned on his face, “True true! She’s sooo adorable and easy to handle. It’s like she was made for us.”

Nanami shook his head, trying to look serious but failing miserably.

“It’s no worries, Nanami,” Geto informed, placing an ensuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ll always have an open place.”

“Yeah, women have three holes ya kn-OW!” Gojo’s words were cut short by Geto flicking a finger on his nose.

“What do you have there?” Changing the subject way too quickly, Geto pointed at the laundry basket.

Gojo rubbed the tip of his nose and pouted. “Her clothes.”

“All of them?”

“Ya.”

“Did you use six eyes to spy on her?”

“Nooo~” Gojo tried to hide his smile and lie but failed to keep his face neutral.

“Bastard.” Clicking his tongue, Geto rolled his eyes. “How did the exorcism go?”

“Well, it went well,” Gojo sighed.

“You said well twice,” Geto pointed out, “Tell me what happened.”

“It was nice,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know what else to say.” He tried to avoid Geto’s gaze on him. “Got to see her getting ravished by some curse and all…”

Geto grimaced and went quiet. The sound of the show playing on the television in the common room wasn’t loud enough to fill the silence that Gojo had created.

Nanami was blushing but he couldn’t leave as Geto still had his hand on his shoulder, keeping him there.

“I shouldn’t have let you take the lead, you always go overboard on the first day.” Geto was angry at himself.

“Take this as a token of my condolences.” Gojo held your bra up towards his friend.

“He wants the panties for himself.” Geto leaned towards Nanami to complain, “He thinks he’s so smart but I want the panties.”

Gojo shook his head dramatically, “It’s for Nanami. He should take the panties since we made him go through all that trouble. It’s also like an honor to receive the panties, right?”

Nanami refused to look them in the eye.

“He’s acting like the good guy now,” Geto snickered. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Nanami. (name) is in good hands, we wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.” At least physically.

Geto’s voice was calming and soft like cotton, giving the second year a sense of comfort.

“Yeah man, trust your upperclassmen a little!” Gojo laughed merrily, holding out the pink panties towards Nanami. “We’re only trying to teach you!”

Taking the panties from his grasp with shaky hands, Nanami nodded. “Yeah…”

Geto patted him on the back, “Now, where exactly are her weak points?”

Nanami jolted, blushed faintly because of how he has used his ability before. He opened his mouth to say it.

The other two listened attentively.

~~~

Don’t freak out.

Don’t freak out.

With a hair towel barely covering your modesty and on the verge of tears, you were trying to talk yourself into running out of the bath and upstairs. If you run, nobody would see you.

Why had Gojo taken all of your clothes?

Ugh! You shouldn’t have put them there, he probably took them thinking that they were also dirty but deep down you knew you were clumsy enough to end up in this situation anyway.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

You could run.

Just run upstairs.

Yeah, that was all you needed to do.

You stepped out of the bathroom and instantly heard footsteps. Like an idiot, instead of going back inside the showers, you lurched forward, trying the first door you stumbled upon and successfully opening it to enter the room to hide.

Pressing your ear to the door, you listened to the footsteps, they didn’t come close to this room but you heard a door being opened and closed shut.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you pressed your forehead on the door. You were going to wait a little more before bolting out of this room to run upstairs.

“Can I help you?”

You jerked so suddenly that you managed to hit your head on the door. When you turned around, you found Geto watching you intently from his bed.

Your cheeks flushed, unable to say anything other than gibberish you started stuttering.

He got up from his bed, putting the book he was reading aside and heading straight towards his wardrobe.

“I’m sorry it’s Gojo, he took all of my clothes and-”

“Here.” Geto held out a shirt and sweatpants towards you, cutting your sentence short. “You can wear these and leave.”

You stared at the clothes he was holding out to you, eyes wide and cheeks burning up. Pressing the towel harder on your body, you tried covering yourself as much as you could.

Meekly taking the clothes from him, you bowed your head to show appreciation. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before he walked away and turned around to give you privacy.

You stood still, indecisive, before finally dropping the towel on the floor to put on the clothes he gave you.

Although they were quite large on you, in the end, you weren’t naked anymore.

“T-thank you.” Your voice was soft and full of admiration as you picked your towel up from the floor. He was so kind and respectful.

He waved a hand in lieu of speaking, telling you goodbye.

Not needing to be told twice, you left his room. Geto hoped that you hadn’t noticed him snapping a picture of you with his slide phone but even if you did, he knew you wouldn’t be able to say anything against it.

~~~

Later that day, Gojo apologized to you multiple times, telling you how he was so lost in his thoughts and took all of your clothes with him.

“Here they are though! Washed and dried!” He held the small laundry basket to you. Your clothes were indeed clean but they were… messy. They hadn’t been folded neatly so you had to iron them later. Despite that you thanked him.

Back in your room, you noticed that your underwear was missing from the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. All of them. Your clean and dirty ones.

Quickly, you walked downstairs, past the common room where all the guys were watching television, and into the laundry room. Perhaps Gojo hadn’t washed them out of embarrassment. If it was you, you wouldn’t! At least if it was his underwear you were going to wash.

Checking the large basket and the washing machine multiple times, you couldn’t find them. When you opened the tumble dryer, they weren’t in it either.

You walked back to the common room, feet dragging and meek. Standing beside the large couch, you pretended to be checking the movie they were watching but actually, you were trying to muster up the courage to ask Gojo if he had seen your underwear.

Nanami glanced in your direction through his long fringe, although his cheeks were flushed pink, you couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Gojo,” he said, alerting the white-haired guy of your presence.

You wondered if it was obvious it was him that you wanted to talk to.

Gojo stared at Nanami and when the blonde pointed in your direction with a nod, he whipped his head around to meet your gaze.

“(name)!” he chirped, patting on the empty spot on the couch between him and Geto. “The movie has just started, come join us!”

With everyone looking at you now, you felt obliged to sit down.

Once you were seated, Gojo narrowed his eyes at Geto and put his arm around you. You flinched but didn’t have the courage to push him away, you ended up unwillingly accepting his warmth.

To Geto, what he did was an insult. It felt like it.

If he didn’t hurry and caught up with him, Gojo would have the upper hand.

“Are you okay?” Geto asked, scooted closer to you on the couch, using the question as an excuse to close the distance between the two of you. “I heard what happened, it must've been scary.”

You offered him a kind smile. “It was a terrifying experience but I’m fine… thanks to Gojo.”

Geto tried hard not to let his lips curl down to a frown but with the way Gojo was smirking at him to taunt him, it was difficult. “Yeah but don’t trust him too much,” he said, glowering at Gojo. “He can be such an airhead at times. He took all of your clothes today, didn’t he?”

That made you shift on your seat uncomfortably. You also remembered the reason why you had come here but you didn’t want to be accusatory about it. In simple words, you were just too scared to confront him. “He already apologized.”

Gojo’s face contorted into something vile as Geto feigned worry.

“You shouldn’t let him go off that easily. He will never learn from his mistakes if his actions don’t have consequences.”

“It was a small mistake, I’m not mad or anything…” Subconsciously you were leaning away from Gojo.

“Whatever you say,” Geto snickered.

Nanami sank deeper into the cushions of the couch in discomfort while you were completely unaware of the tension between the two guys.

~~~

“What are you trying to do?” Gojo groaned in anger. “We’re all in this together so what’s with trying to make me look bad? I told you that overly friendly guy thing would be the best choice, you can’t blame me for-”

“I wanted to see your reaction,” Geto replied, interrupting him. “It was a joke.”

“It wasn’t funny.” Gojo glared at him over his sunglasses. “I’m going to win her over, is that why you’re acting so childish about it?”

“You’re the one who’s childish,” Geto snapped, sitting up on his bed. “You’re trying to turn this into a competition. Again .”

“It’s more fun that way.”

Silence.

It was a long moment after Geto spoke. “If we’re going to turn this into a competition, then it should be fair to all of us.”

Finally calmed down, Gojo hummed in agreement. “How though?”

A smile spread across Geto’s face before he gave his friend a response.

~~~

“Rock paper scissors!”

Nanami won by picking paper. The other two groaned and complained as they were all walking back to the common room to meet up with you. The game was played in secret.

“Today, you’ll work with Nanami, he’s a pro at using cursed tools.” It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t anything they had planned either.

Your day with the blonde went uneventful, you actually managed to learn some tricks about cursed tools.

~~~

You returned Geto his clothes.

The neatly folded clothes on top of his bed were inviting.

He reached for them. The clothes hadn’t been washed but it was as he wanted. He had assured you he would wash them himself.

Turning the sweatpants inside out, he brought the crotch area up to his face and inhaled deeply. His eyelashes fluttered at the pleasant smell that filled his lungs. So this was how you smelled. Your scent was faint but since you had worn it without any underwear, it had managed to stick onto the fabric, much to Geto’s joy.  

He couldn’t help but take another whiff as he pulled his pants down.

~~~

“Rock paper scissors!”

Geto won.

“Like this?” you asked worriedly, holding your arm out in an exorcism position. The flyhead in front of you was in a small cage, helpless and ready for you to exorcise it.

“No, you have to angle your hips right.” Geto placed his hands on your waist, getting awfully close and invading your space. “You have to keep your eyes on the curse at all times, no matter how much it might spur it on, you can wear sunglasses so it won’t notice your stare but not losing the sight of the enemy is important.” He pressed himself against you but you were listening to his soft voice, explaining how you could get better at this. “Try it.”

You nodded, aiming your cursed energy towards the flyhead.

The creature squealed and exploded into nothing.

Thrilled by your success, you turned your head around with an excited smile plastered on your face. “Did you see that?”

Geto offered you a kind smile, enough to reassure you that you did more than well. “You’re a natural.” He gave you a pat on the head, “Good job.” He then used his fingers to endearingly comb through your hair.

You leaned into his touch, ignoring how close he had gotten.

That made him smile, it wouldn’t be long until you were ready.

~~~

“Rock paper scissors!”

Geto won again, then Gojo, then Nanami, then Gojo again and it went on.

Easy get corrupted but still able to be as meekly cheerful as the first day, you were enough to charm all of them.

One of them a little more than the other two. Enough to make him care about you.

“I’m out.”

Both Gojo and Geto stared at Nanami with wide eyes.

“This eaaarly?” The white-haired one whined, stretching the word out. He was buzzed out of his mind. Cheap beer like this hit him faster than the better quality ones.

“You sure?” This time Geto wasn’t going to say anything to convince him not to drop out of the competition. Nanami leaving meant there would be a higher chance for him to corrupt you for the day.

The blonde in question nodded.

“You’re gonna miss ooooout her cuuutee fidgeting when you touch her waist!” Gojo was giggling, remembering how sensitive you were.

Geto chuckled, a smile appearing on his face. “The way she gets teary when you push her a little too much is the cutest.”

“Nooo, the way she starts stuttering when you act friendly is cute, her face as if she’s ready to cry is sexy. Her brows furrow and she looks at you like she’s begging for you to stop but-”

“She’s too pathetic to speak up!” The duo said it in unison and started laughing while high-fiving each other for their similar thinking.

Nanami took a sip from his beer and ignored them. This was for the best. He was going to continue ignoring it.

Ignorance was bliss.

~~~

“We’re out of necessities,” Nanami informed everyone in the common room.

Gojo tore his eyes away from the television and hung off the back of the coach to look at Nanami. “Already?”

“I can go and buy them if you gave me a list?” You were quick to pipe up.

Geto put his hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair, “You can’t carry all that, we’ll do it.”

“Well, why don’t I go with one of you?” There it was, the meek tone. Something was going on.

“Why? Do you need something specific?” Gojo sat back on the couch, returning his attention to the Saturday morning comedy sketches.

“Y-yeah.” Fidgeting with your fingers you looked down at your lap.

“You can put whatever you need into the list and we’ll buy it,” Geto answered but his true intention was to see how flustered you could get over a simple task being done for you. He could or rather anyone could easily guess what this was all about. They had been living with Shoko for over three years now, who unlike you wasn’t shy about anything.

Nanami who had been pouring out coffee for himself noticed how your shoulders slackened in defeat. Although he had promised to stay out of their game, he spoke without thinking. “We can go together.”

As soon as he said that both Gojo and Geto glowered at him from the corner of their eyes.

You whipped your head around with an innocent smile, “That’s so kind of you! Thank you, Nanami!”

“We can all go,” Geto replied.

“It’d be too crowded.” You got up from the couch to walk over where Nanami was standing to talk about if you should get ready now or later.

An imaginary lightbulb lit up over Gojo’s head. “Let’s decide who’s gonna go by rock paper scissors.”

“Nanami just said he’d go with me-”

“He wants to avoid his cleaning duty. We’re supposed to do the cleaning today since Shoko is coming back tomorrow.” Geto backed Gojo up instantaneously. So sly.

Three of them held their fists up from where they were and almost as if they’d done it a million times, they chose their gesture without even saying anything.

You looked at each gesture and your eyes landed on the winner.

“Write what you two personally need on a list, I’ll go grab my wallet.” Geto got up from the couch and beckoned you to follow him.

The two of you took the bus to the store and split up with separate baskets to do the shopping. You finished quick, put enough sanitary pads that would last you until the next month into the basket, and hid them under a bunch of other things so Geto wouldn’t see it.

You found Geto by the cleaning aisle.

“Done?” he asked, noticing your full basket.

“Yeah.”

“That was quick.” Geto grinned, “I have a couple of things left, after that, I’m done as well.”

“Can we go to the new cafe that opened down the street?” you asked cutely as you followed him to the next aisle in the grocery store.

He nodded in response without looking at you.

As he turned into the next aisle, which happened to be where the hygiene products were, you continued following him. He walked past the toothbrushes, shampoos, and colognes.

You proceeded to follow him until he abruptly stopped.

He put his basket down and inspected the products on the shelves.

Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw what he was planning to buy. “Ah.” It was a noise you made out of surprise, nothing more. You were completely flushed, dizzy from embarrassment as Geto stared down at you with a packet in his hand.

Extra thin for ultra pleasure.

XL.

Prelubed.

“You okay?” he asked, dropping the packet into his basket.

He was a guy, yeah, he was a man. This was normal. Yeah, he had a-

Your brain wasn’t working.

You shook your head without meaning to. “I-I forgot to buy something.” Not letting him say anything else, you rushed out of the aisle, omitting the way he was grinning.

After the two of you paid for the stuff, you started walking to the cafe together. You were lucky to have Geto by your side since he carried more bags than you ever could. He wouldn’t let you carry anything either so you ended up carrying the toilet papers.

Holding the door open for him, you walked inside the cafe. The employees behind the counter greeted you, smiling brightly.

“I’ll take normal coffee, black, no sugar or milk.” With that, he quietly walked to the furthest end of the shop by the large windows. Apparently, you were the one who was going to order.

You walked up to the employee who was waiting for you to order, you decided to try out their signature drink and ordered filter coffee for Geto. After getting your drinks on a tray, you made your way down to the table he sat, placing the tray carefully down.

Plopping down on the chair, you let out an exaggerated sigh, “I’m exhausted.”

“You didn’t do any of the heavy lifting, so you don’t get to complain,” he replied, taking his coffee from the tray.

You pouted your lips as you reached for your own drink. It got quiet as he looked out of the window, taking small sips of his coffee and enjoying the view. You on the other hand were fidgety. Mind still going back to recall what he had bought.

Well, he was handsome and charming. Geto clearly had a girlfriend. But… you hadn’t seen him with any other girl. What if it was Shoko?

Then it hit you. Shoko’s words she told you when you first arrived at the campus. It all started to make sense, she was trying to scare you so you wouldn’t make a move on his boyfriend.

You were curious.

Curiosity killed the cat.

“I-I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you said, trying to hide your blushing cheeks behind the straw of your drink.

“What?” he chuckled and put his drink back on the tray.

Dumbfounded by his response you stuttered. “Your g-girlfriend.”

“My what?” He had heard you right but he needed to see you get flustered but when you stayed quiet he continued. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I-I’m only asking because you bought-” your voice became faint, “ -that… ”

“The condoms?” This time he leaned forward on the table, raising a brow at you. “Do I need to have a girlfriend to buy condoms?”

“Keep your voice down,” you hushed him, your brain was turning into mush from shame and embarrassment, you couldn’t even think straight. “Please.”

“Huh? Why? We’re the only ones here.” He tilted his head to try meeting your eyes but you wouldn’t look at him. “Besides, why are you so why about this? Didn’t you and your boyfriend go out to buy one of these at some point?”

A silent thud made you look down at the table. There it was, in broad daylight, anyone could see it.

You were going to faint.

“Hmm?” Geto was waiting for an answer.

“No,” you said, head spinning from embarrassment, you had never felt like this before. You needed to go home. It was too overwhelming. There was this other thing bubbling in your stomach, your face was getting heated and your nails were digging into your palms.

That was anger. Rage.

“I don’t believe you. Haven’t your boyfriends ever-”

“I never had one.” For the first time in your whole life, you raised your voice.  

“Never?” Geto was more shocked at the revelation, not too surprised at your change of demeanor.  “That’s a shame.” Awe tingled in his soft voice.

You didn’t say anything.

Geto sighed, relenting quietly but his grin didn’t falter. “Okay,” he said, taking the condom packet from the table and putting it back in his pocket. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t sound genuine,” you spoke firmly. "Besides, you were the one to tell me not to forgive tactlessness. Isn’t it ironic?” Your tone had changed, you were speaking through your teeth, anger had taken over you.

Oh, this feisty side of you… he wanted to see how it would break.

“You think so?” A thoughtful yet mocking humming noise left him. “Aren’t you the one overreacting? All I did was to show you something I bought. You were the one asking about it. Shouldn’t it be me who should be upset with you?”

Silence.

“If you want to believe it’s my fault, I’ll let you think that way but don’t go blaming others for corrupting your virtue like a prude. It’s annoying and harmful. If you said those words to Satoru, he’d be devastated. So, be a good girl and grow up.”

Your chest tightened, no matter how much you inhaled no air was reaching your lungs. The panic had started settling in but it was all internal. You had put the facade back on, desperately trying to hold back your tears.

What he said was true. That was why it hurt so much.

“Ah, let’s head back,” he said, getting up from his seat. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded languidly, leaving your still full drink on the tray and shuffling after Geto with glossy eyes.

The guilt you felt was sublime, no words would be enough to describe it.

~~~

“She’s never had a boyfriend?” Gojo was baffled by the fact. “Does that-”

“Most likely,” Geto answered without needing to hear his question.

The two of them exchanged a competitive look with each other before they balled their good hands in fists.

“Rock paper scissors!”

~~~

There was a knock on your door. You pulled the sheets over your head instead of answering it. You hadn’t joined the boys for dinner, there was no way you could look them in the eye after what had happened today.

“We’re going to have drinks in Nanami’s room.” It was Geto. “I want you to join us.”

You pressed your face harder on the pillow.

“(name)?”

Maybe it was better if you answered the door before he burst into your room, which was unlikely since it was Geto. Gojo would have but Geto… no.

You walked to the door and falteringly opened it.

On the other side, Geto had a hand on your door frame, leaning forward.

Your eyes met but you immediately averted your gaze in shame. An apology was the first thing you needed to do. “I’m sorry.”

He scoffed, “Why are you apologizing?”

“For saying all those mean things.”

Geto leaned further down and used his free hand to pat on your head, ruffling your hair. “Don’t overthink it. I shouldn’t have teased you that much.”

The feeling of his warm, calloused hand on your head was reassuring, it made you regret saying those words to him even more. He had been nothing but kind to you.

“I’m so sorry, I must be so annoying and weak.” You lifted your head to look at him, eyes glossy and cheeks tinted. Your lower lip was trembling as your eyes were acutely watching him, waiting for a response.

Unable to resist your face in despair, Geto smiled. His hand cupped your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. “Don’t apologize. You’re a girl who’s desperately working hard to improve herself. There’s no way I could ever dislike you.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be?” His hand slid down along your jaw stopping when his thumb was hovering over the corner of your lip. He ran his thumb on your lip. “You’re such a sweet girl, it’s impossible staying mad at you. You’re adorable.”

Petrified, you stared into his eyes. The half-lidded eyes were hazy with an emotion you had never seen on anyone before. He was leaning closer towards your face all the while your heart was hammering inside your ribcage.

He was going to kiss you.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes, puckering your lips.

Geto watched your eyelashes flutter and cheeks flush with dark amusement before retrieving his hand from your face.

“Shall we go?”

His question made you open your eyes and instantly your cheeks flushed harder. Ahh, how embarrassing! You really thought he was going to kiss you.

You walked out of your room and closed the door to follow Geto downstairs to Nanami’s room.

Gojo’s chipper voice filled the empty hallway before you arrived in front of the room. Geto opened the door for you, gesturing you to walk inside first.

Nanami’s room was cleaner than yours, it was neatly organized and decorated but it reeked of cigarette smoke.

“Ahh, (name)! You came!!” Gojo quickly waved at you and patted on the bed for you to take the space next to him. “Come sit with me!”

Nanami glanced at you over his shoulder but didn’t do much other than bow his head slightly to greet you as he was smoking.

Decidedly, you took a step to join Gojo but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

Geto led you to where Nanami was smoking and instructed you to sit down beside him on the floor. “Do you smoke?”

“Um… No.”

“Let’s not make her smoke,” Nanami suddenly said when he noticed Geto was bringing his own cigarette pack out.

“He’s right! She’ll reek of cigarettes!” Gojo was practically yelling, from the way his cheeks were tinted bright red, you could tell that he had been drinking. He was slurring most of his words.

“It was merely a question,” Geto sighed, putting a cigarette between his lips to light it.

Nanami pointed at the large plastic bag in the middle of the floor and spoke to you. “These are for everyone, you can take one if you want.”

With his remark, you crawled towards the middle and checked inside the bag. There was beer and a large bottle of wine along with a bunch of cigarette packs in it. “A-are we allowed to drink these on campus?”

“What? You’re gonna rat on us?” Gojo barked out a laugh.

“No,” you mumbled and reached for the wine bottle. “C-can I have this?”

“The whole thing?” Geto raised a brow, “Didn’t you learn to share?”

“Not the entire bottle, I just wanna try it.” You were too meek again, they had all figured you out enough to know what that meant.

“Don’t tell me…” Gojo was pointing a finger at you and grinning. “You’ve never tried alcohol before?”

“I never had the chance.”

You were just getting better the more they learned about you.

Nanami stubbed out the remaining of his cigarette. “Try not to drink too much on your first time.”

Geto glared at Nanami, the wine was there for you specifically. Higher the percentage, the bigger the chances of you letting your guard down.

When you made a move to put the bottle back in the bag to get a can of beer instead, Geto encouraged you to drink it. “We’ll all drink some from the bottle, don’t worry about drinking too much. We’re here with you to prevent that.”

Lies, lies, lies.

The way your eyes sparkled with appreciation when you looked at him as you were unaware of his intentions, was all too innocent. Pure as snow.

You opened the bottle and took a sip, grimacing right after. All of them laughed, making jokes about their first times and chatting about all of the other things until there was a lull in the conversation.

The silence was often filled by Gojo’s horrendous singing or your tipsy giggling, trying to tell a story and being unable to finish it because of how hard you were laughing in between each word.

“So,” Geto started, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Satoru, when did you have your first kiss?” he asked as if he didn’t know every detail.

Gojo hummed in thought, pretending to try to remember. “I don’t know, maybe when I was twelve or fourteen.” There was a pause before he asked the same question to his friend, almost sheepishly. “When did you have yours, Suguru?”

“I was also fourteen if I remember it right.” Geto put his cigarette down on the ashtray to take a sip from his beer. “Nanami-”

“No.” Nanami didn’t pay attention to any of you and lit up another cigarette.

“Okay.” Geto rolled his eyes before they landed on you. “(name), what about you?”

“That’s… a secret.” You pressed your forefinger against your lips, shushing with a giggle.

“We’re all friends here,” Geto replied, biting back a laugh. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, right?”

His words made you look up to the ceiling to think for a long moment. Deciding that he was right, you bobbed your head. “Yes.”

“Yes to what?” Gojo chuckled, he was hanging off upside-down from the bed, pouting while you were thinking and thinking and thinking.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before~” you stretched the word out, barely managing to keep your eyes open. The bottle of wine in your hand was half empty. It wasn’t really a surprise but hearing you say it out loud when you were too shy to speak up your mind was purely erotic.

“Never ever?” Gojo was trying to drink his own beer upside-down.

You shook your head but then started nodding. “Ahh, sooo confusing! I really didn’t have my first kiss. Like ever.”

“That’s a lie, it must be! You’re very friendly.” Gojo sighed his next words, “All the boys must love you.”

Starting to fidgeting with fingers on your lap you shook your head to deny. “I’m not popular amongst boys. Not popular at all with anyone since I’m not that extrovert or pretty.”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the attention,” Geto went on to say. “You’re prettier than you think.”

Cheeks flushing, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’re just saying that.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Geto chuckled, “As adorable you are, you’re also the nicest girl I’ve ever met.”

You beamed at him, eyes twinkling like stars. “Y-You really think so?”

“Yes, you’re soo cute!” Gojo joined, crawling towards you. “You’re gorgeous!”

“Aside from your stunning looks, you’re quite talented. Your cursed technique has a promising future and you’re able to learn quickly to improve yourself.” Geto put a hand on his face, covering the lower half of his face. “Hardworking and determined to become a special grade sorcerer, it’s inspiring if not admirable.”

Being bombarded with compliments made you feel like you were on the clouds. The validation you didn’t get from your own family past forgotten, you got lost in the sweetness of their words.

It all made you feel special.

“I’m so happy I came here, it feels like I belong here with you guys. I feel at home.” You started fiddling with the sticker on the wine bottle. “I’m very lucky to have you guys as my friends.”

Gojo pouted his lips and jumped towards you with his arms open. He wrapped them around you, rocking side to side. “You’re soooo adorable! How are you soo cute? I wanna eat you up, you’re like the cutest thing ever! Argh, what did I do to ever deserve you?”

Caught off guard, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. “I should be the one saying that.”

Pulling himself back, Gojo turned to Geto, “We should kiss her! Her first kiss should be with people who treasure her deeply. It’s such a sweet thing and as friends, it’s our duty to make that happen!”

“R-really?” Despite what he was saying was outrageous, you were giggling, eyes on him. Looking at him like he meant the world to you.

Innocence being corrupted. Poetic.

“She wouldn’t be comfortable doing that sort of stuff, Satoru. (name) is timid, don’t tease her.”

“I’m not teasing her!” Gojo looked down at you between his arms and blushed bright red, “I mean, I’d kiss her, wouldn’t ya?”

Nanami rolled his eyes, he had heard them rehearse this a million times and it still managed to make him feel the secondhand embarrassment and additionally physically make him grimace.

Nonetheless, it seemed to work for you. Time stopped moving for you, cheeks flushed and mouth agape, your eyes were on Geto, eagerly waiting for his answer.

Stubbing out his cigarette, he averted his gaze. “I would.”

“Nanami,” Gojo called next. “Would you kiss her?”

Nanami stared at the white-haired idiot, he had to be kidding. It was clear as day that they were trying to drag him back into the game.

“Nanami has the most experience between all of us,” Geto lied, now unable to hide his smirk. “You should kiss him, (name).”

This time, you were blushing faintly, eyes blinking slowly with a charming smile on your face. All of those were directed at Nanami and the longing look on your face was enough to make his breath hitch.

“Ah, he’s blushing!” Gojo pointed out with a laugh. “This might be the first time I’m seeing him blush!”

Of course, he would blush from seeing you the way they described you for the first time. Oh, so timid and innocent, begging to be ravished.

“Who do ya want your first kiss to be with, (name)?” Gojo asked softly, his voice coaxing you into safety. They were all your friends, they wanted to help you. They loved you. You knew that, right?

“I don’t know.” Your speech was slurred, the alcohol was starting to hit you harder now.

Gojo squeezed your cheeks together until your lips puckered and turned your face for Nanami to see. “She has such kissable lips, don’t ya think?”

Nanami was trying his best to hold his composure, not wanting to let himself lose control.

“If you don’t kiss her, I most certainly will take her first kiss.” Gojo pressed his lips on your temple, giving you a chaste kiss before moving to whisper in your ear. “I love you so much, so pretty and gullible. So adorable. I don’t wanna share you with anyone else.”

You tilted your head in delight at his words, letting his lips brush against your neck.

How easy to please!

Gojo smiled into your skin, pressing another kiss on your neck.

A cute noise left your lips.

Nanami twitched at the noise and Geto noticed it.

“You should take over before he eats her up,” he said with an amused grin.

Nanami shook his head but he was still unable to tear his eyes away from Gojo planting kisses on your neck and you squirming in pleasure in his arms.

He put an arm around your waist, pulling you a lot closer. You pulled your leg up on his leg to turn your torso towards him.

“What should we do, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes hazy behind his sunglasses. “Nanami doesn’t wanna kiss you but I do…”

Nanami couldn’t bring himself to look away from you. He wanted to jump on you, taking you right here and now as the two idiots watched in awe. Quickly he suppressed the fantasy with his own free will.

Gojo leaned down and you closed your eyes shut, puckering your lips to patiently wait for the kiss.

Nothing mattered anymore.

He put one hand on your waist, the other cupping your cheek as his lips pressed against yours. Your heart was beating rapidly, enough to make you conscious of everything your body was going through. The hand on your waist was hot against your skin and the lips pressing against yours… let heavenly.

You thought that was it. A simple kiss. You didn’t know you could kiss someone more than just pressing your lips against each other but Gojo took it further.

His lips moved harsh against yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip. His hand on your cheek slid to the back of your head and he grabbed a chunk of your hair. Once you opened your mouth to protest, he snaked his tongue inside.

You clutched on his shirt, tears dwelling in your eyes as you involuntarily tasted the bitter taste of beer on his tongue.

The hand on your waist moved to press on the small of your back to pull you in his lap. You moaned into the kiss, arching your back. He knew that was your weak spot, Nanami had told him. He also knew that your inner thigh-

You shrieked when another hand went to your inner thighs.

Breaking the kiss, you looked at Geto in surprise. He took the opportunity to use his free hand to pull you back by your hair and press his lips on yours.

Gojo made a small noise to protest but then turned the situation to his own advantage. His hands went to your waist, then up, up, and up until his thumbs reached to the swell of your breasts.

You opened your mouth in panic but it only helped Geto to force his tongue down your throat. The slick muscle twirled around your own tongue and you started to get dizzy from the taste of tobacco coming from him.

Gojo cupped your tits over your pajama top before starting to knead the supple flesh, you moved your hips subconsciously. Geto put a hand on your hip to move your hips, grinding you on Gojo’s knee. “That’s erotic, (name). I thought you never had a boyfriend before… You’re seducing us, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed but you couldn’t give him an answer as Geto was busy ravishing your mouth with his tongue to savor your taste.

Finally, Geto pulled himself back, a small strand of saliva connecting your lips together broke apart as he smiled looking at your bruised lips.

Like Gojo had said, Geto’s smile was beautiful. A sight to relish. You were grateful to be the reason for his gorgeous smile.

“She’s definitely seducing us. Look at her.” Geto cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a mocking expression on his face.

“I’m not…”

“You are,” Gojo joined, teasing you was too fun. “You were humping my leg ya know.”

“T-that was Geto-”

“Don’t lie.” Geto’s hand on your hips slid down between your legs and you slouched forward. You let out a moan when he pressed his fingers on your slit over the pajama pants as if he knew exactly where it was. You felt the wetness soaking your pants and leaving an icky feeling. You were about to ask him why he did that but he spoke, saying things that were so not true. “Only little sluts get this wet enough to soak their pants entirely.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “You’re such a liar! I thought you were an innocent little girl.”

“I’m not…”

“So you’re not an innocent little girl?” Geto moved his fingers side to side, toying with your clothed clit as he pressed himself against you.

“Noo… I didn’t mean it that way…” Legs already shaking, only later you felt something firm and thick pressing on the cleft of your ass.

“You’re moving your hips, begging for it. I’m seeing it with my own two eyes! Having your first kiss must’ve made ya into a slut… You want it, don’t ya?”

You were blushing faintly, eyes blinking slowly while you looked up at Gojo. This was exactly what you wanted. Right? You had to be hoping for it if you were moving your hips like Gojo said. You had become a slut from having your first kiss.

“You cryin’?” Gojo was smirking.

“No?” Confused as to why he asked it, a purposeful grind of Geto’s hips on your ass made your mouth gape open. He was mimicking the movement of fucking you.

“So you like Suguru?”

Of course, he was such a gentleman… most of the time. He was kind and helpful. He always helped you train and looked out for you, giving you the best advice. You trusted him with your life.

“Hmm?” Gojo wasn’t about to repeat himself.

“I like him.”

Geto smirked and gestured with his head for Gojo to move away. With a sigh, the latter crawled away from you as Geto lifted you by your armpits to turn you to face him on his lap.

Your eyes were clouded with lust and your mind slurred with alcohol.

“You’re my little pipsqueak,” he said, caressing your cheek.

A nod.

“I’m going to take your innocence.”

Another nod.

Grinning, he grabbed the hem of your pajama top, lifting it up to your breasts and over your head. You lifted your arms above to help him get rid of the shirt. Since you hadn’t been wearing a bra, your tits bounced free.

Three pairs of eyes were on your bare chest, it made you blush and you covered yourself.

“We’re friends,” Geto assured, grabbing your wrist. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, remember?”

You let him pull your arms away from your chest and with a gorgeous smile, Geto placed his hands on your tits, rolling one nipple between his knuckles. He leaned forward to take your other tit in his mouth, causing you to moan audibly.

Gojo wasn’t shy to pull his pants down unlike Nanami who was still desperately trying to act like he was better than them. He wouldn’t stoop low like them. He wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. But then why was he palming himself through his pants?

“Geto…”

“Suguru,” he told you, planting warm kisses on your chest.

“Suguru,” you repeated, gasping as he gently laid you down on the tatami floor.

Stunned, Nanami was unable to say anything as his upperclassman climbed on top of you on the floor of his room. He had told them to do whatever they were going to do anywhere but here. He had told them and Gojo-

“Yo, Nanami,” the guy in question spoke. “Wanna take her oral virginity?”

“What are you talking about?” This was all too much, he didn’t know anything about this.

“Ah, Geto’s taking her virginity cause I lost and he told me to decide whether to let you take her ass virginity or not but I’m feeling greedy, ya take her mouth.”

“I’m… I’m not a part of this!” Nanami’s voice was suppressed by your moan when Geto pinched your nipple. His cheeks tinted pink and he pulled his shirt down to cover his growing bulge.

“You are,” Gojo said, unashamedly spitting in his hand and wrapping it around the base of his cock while his eyes were on you. “I’ve seen ya jerk it off to her. With my own six eyes.”

Although the older one wasn’t looking at him, the mocking tone slapped Nanami in the face. At that moment he felt exposed. Gojo knew. He knew.

He knew how behind closed doors he had your panties scrunched in his hand, inhaling them deeply and jerking off to the picture Geto had emailed him. The low-quality photo had given him such good quality fantasies about you. But he wouldn’t act on them, he wasn’t like them.

He wasn’t-

“Suguru, wait,” you whined when he grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Nope, not waiting~” He pulled them down, and despite your protests, you lifted your hips to help him. Hooking his fingers into your panties, he peeled them down your legs agonizingly slowly.

(Without you seeing, he tossed them towards his friend who gratefully took them and wrapped them around his cock for extra friction.)

Immediately, you pressed your thighs together to cover your bare pussy. “I-I changed my mind.” Your cheeks were burning and your head was starting to spin. It was all happening too fast for your mind to catch up. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“I told you, we are all friends. Don’t you have any guy friends? This kind of stuff is normal between friends.” Geto’s calming tone was back, lulling you back into safety, telling you that it was all fine. “I’m going to be your first so that you’ll know exactly what to do next time.” There was a long pause and he pretended to frown, feigning being hurt. “I can stop if you want me to.”

Not wanting to disappoint him and fail this ritual of friendship, you shook your head. “N-no. I-I want this.”

Geto spread your legs and grabbed you by your ankles to pull you flush against his hips. “I want you too, pipsqueak.” A hand moved to palm himself through his pants, your eyes followed, watching him grab his bulge to show you how big he actually was.

Flustered, you averted your gaze but came face to face with something even more explicitly naughty.

Gojo’s pants were down to his thighs, enough to expose his cock. You saw his hand moving rapidly up and down on his cock with your panties around it, as he noticed your stare he quickened his hand.

“You shouldn’t look at some other guy when you’re doing it with me.” Geto put a hand on your cheek to turn your head to face him. Although you wanted to keep your eyes focused on his face, your gaze dropped onto his cock released from his pants.

Before you could get flustered over it, Geto cupped your pussy using a hand. His thumb grazed over your sensitive numb and two of his digits slid easily inside. You let out a sharp gasp, toes curling.

Ahh, this was why virgins were the best, awfully sensitive and obedient. The way they didn’t know what was being done to them was the best. Shy girls were the best. Geto loved fucking timid girls who trusted him with their whole life. Corrupting them, making them believe he loved them, and taking their innocence. You were his dark fantasy come alive as if you were made for him and him only.

However, Geto wasn’t that selfish. He could share. Sometimes.

“You’re soaking wet.”

“Don’t say that…”

“Why not?” Smiling he slid his fingers out of you and held them up to your face. Clear fluid was covering them from tip to base. He separated the digits and small strands of the fluids connecting his fingers thinned before splitting apart. “It’s the truth.” He opened his mouth, taking the digits in his mouth to lick your juices as you watched in shock. A low hum emerged from him as he contentedly licked his lips. “You taste sweeter than any candy.”

“Stooop,” you were giggling now, too flustered from his mellow words.

Even though he would love to tease you for hours and take all of your firsts for himself, Geto had to move on. He could hear Gojo grumbling under his breath aside from him jerking off. Also, there was the blonde one.

Geto glanced over his shoulder to steal a quick look at what Nanami was doing.

The second-year was watching intently. Waiting for his turn.

That made Geto chuckle and he turned to you, giving you all of his attention once again. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, giving it a simple pump. Though he wanted to stop at that thanks to his spit and the remaining of your juices on his hand, it helped his hand move smoothly, making him want to jerk himself until he came.

He quickly snapped out of it, positioning himself between your legs and dragging the tip of his cock along your folds before tapping lightly.

You murmured something.

“Hmm?”

“T-the condom,” you reminded shyly.

“It’s your first time, right?” he asked, almost too impatiently.

“Y-yes.”

“You’re completely safe on your first time.”

With that he shoved his entire length inside your virgin cunt, tearing your hymen. Both of you moaned for different reasons.

He slumped forward as your virgin walls pulsated around his cock, stretching around his girth and taking the shape of him.

“It hurts,” you mewled, grabbing onto his bicep. “Suguru, it hurts.” Tears welled up in your eyes and seeing that made Geto grow bigger inside of you. He tentatively pulled his hips back and pushed himself up from the floor to look at between your bodies.

His eyes were on the small amount of blood on his cock and dripping from your hole, staining the floor under you.

A sickeningly excited smile spread across his face and he slammed his hips into yours, making you cry out in pain. He planted both of his hands on the floor, each side of your head to gain more control over his pace, and started fucking you frantically.

Gojo let out a breathy laugh and tried matching his pace o his friend’s pace of fucking you. He wasn’t going to last long but Geto seemed like he was going to last longer.

Your hands went to his shoulders, pulling him closer rather than pushing him. He knew you needed the closure. This was something lovers did with each other and Geto wanted to teach you all of it. Definitely not because fucking timid and innocent girls was his fetish.

His thrusts were like an animal in heat, desperately and frenziedly hammering into your pussy. Each time his balls slapped against your ass you let out a shaky moan, the pain now a faint memory.

Your narrow entrance and virgin walls clamping on his cock were heavenly. Every time he moved, your pussy throbbed, clenching around him and you let out those adorable moans he was desperate to hear. He couldn’t stop moving his hips, it was impossible.

“Am I doing good?” you asked, gasping sharply between each word.

Innocent, so innocent.

Geto completely lost himself.

He grabbed the back of your knee and pushed both legs until he could mount you entirely.

In this position he was going so deep, it made your eyelashes flutter and you lost your vision for a moment.

His cock continued stroking your gummy insides while he thrust in your cunt with a vigorous pace but he couldn’t last long because of your virgin walls squeezing around him like you were trying to milk him dry.

He managed to steal a few more thrusts before his cock started twitching inside you. Geto pushed himself balls deep inside you and the tip of his cock kissed your cervix, making your toes curl as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside your womb, filling your tummy.

You could feel his seed fill your womb and overflow, as well as the slight twitch of his balls on your skin. It made you bite your lip, your face was wet with tears and possibly snot. However, it didn’t stop Geto from leaning down to kiss you while he continued fucking his cum into you.

Once he broke the kiss, you got to get a good look at his handsome face. His hair was a mess, his bun had mostly come undone and small strands were sticking to his forehead from sweat.

Before the two of you could enjoy the afterglow or catch your breaths, you heard Gojo clear his throat.

Suddenly, shame overflowed all of your senses. Geto on the other hand was unphased, he pulled out of you to watch his cum ooze out from your pussy with amusement. He then whipped his head around to glare at Gojo. “Can’t you stop breathing so hard and moaning when you’re jerking off? I don’t wanna hear any of that when I’m fucking.”

The breaking of the character was fine. You were still lost in your own thoughts and unable to comprehend anything other than how you had lost your virginity to some ‘bad boy’ who was only kind to you. You laid on the floor, exhausted and stuck in your mind.

Gojo laughed, “Nanami, you’re seeing this? I told you he gets sooo mad when you do it, heheh”

“You’re speaking too bravely for someone who has his dick out.” Geto sat on the tatami floor, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What? Ya gonna suck it?”

“I will kill you,” he hissed.

The two were arguing with each other when Nanami got up from where he was sitting and walked over to you.

“Ah.” Gojo was smirking, staring at the tent on the blonde one’s pants. “He’s going at it.”

Geto hummed approvingly.

Nanami crouched next to your head, staring at your bare chest up close. You were gorgeous, your skin looked so soft and your face stained with tears…

He had been trying and trying and trying to hold back but you were too stunning. Seeing you from their perspectives had enchanted him, arousing him to the point of being unable to think clearly.

“Nanami?”

Your eyes were clouded with lust and he could see his own reflection in them. Right now, you needed him and he was more than willing to provide.

Nanami placed a hand on your cheek and caressed the soft skin before leaning in for a kiss. You didn’t refuse, accepting his lips pressing against yours. You tried moving them like Geto had done with you but Nanami’s kiss… It was more gentle yet more possessive. He pushed his tongue inside to twirl your tongues together, to make sure you remembered his taste for a lifetime as he desperately tried savoring yours.

Placing one hand on your tit to knead the soft flesh, he used his other hand to pull down his pants, releasing his aching cock free. As soon as his cock was out, he grabbed your hand and guided it to his exposed cock.

Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand back, breaking the kiss.

“Nanami, you can’t-”

“You are friends, right?” Gojo interrupted, appearing behind Nanami.

It was quiet for a moment before you nodded ever so hesitantly and looked at Nanami, attempting to avoid looking at his cock hovering over your face.

“Nanami wants you to be his first.” Gojo grinned down at you, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair.

“F-first? His-”

Nanami flushed bright red at the revelation and you found yourself blushing as well.

“You should help him out like Suguru did to you! That’s what friends are for!” Gojo’s encouraging words and the power of friendship talk were too much, Nanami almost went limp until Gojo grabbed your hand and guided it back to Nanami’s cock. “Here, I’ll help you.”

Both of you flinched at the intimate skin contact.

Gojo assisted your hand to wrap around the base and slide it up slowly towards the tip glistening with precum. You didn’t need to use your spit to get him nice and slick as his own precum was more than enough. Your classmate made you pull the thin skin towards the tip down to expose the pink tip of the blonde one’s cock whose shoulders tensed in response. “He seems to be sensitive around the tip. You should use your mouth and tease the tip, (name)! On second thought, he would love it if you let him use your mouth!”

All you did was to open your mouth to approve.

Oh, so obedient.

Nanami on the other hand was being torn apart.

He was better than this. He was a good person. He wouldn’t be the type of person to take advantage of some dumb girl to indulge in his own fantasies and-

“Here, lemme help, Nanami.”

Putting his hands on the younger one’s hips, Gojo pushed Nanami forward into your mouth. Your teeth barely grazed against the tip and he moaned at the sensation of your warm mouth. He couldn’t even get angry at Gojo.

Geto sat on the other side of you and instructed you to move closer to Nanami so you could take him in your mouth completely. He placed a hand on the back of your head and helped you bob your head, giving you praises.

Gojo didn’t need to move Nanami’s hips anymore, the blonde one was too lost in pleasure to hesitate or think about his nonexistent pride.

With you being on your hands and knees as you were giving Nanami a blowjob, Geto gave Gojo a thumb up, telling him everything was good to go.

Finally, getting his turn, Gojo slowly crawled behind you like a predator about to bounce on its unaware prey. He spat in his palm and started jerking himself off to get hard again, he had lost count of how many times he had come when Geto was devouring your cunt but he could go on until the morning.

“Arch your back, pipsqueak.”

Complying Geto’s words, you lifted your ass up in the air.

“Now, Gojo’s going to do something really naughty. Be careful not to bite Nanami.”

You made a noise in protest but Nanami silenced you with a sudden thrust of his hips. The tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat, making you gag. Which worked in his favor because now he could shove his cock further down your throat thanks to your tongue laying flat and jaw unclenched.

Gojo put a hand on your ass cheek and spread it, groping the soft flesh before drooling over your hole.

A wave of panic washed over you and you moved your hips to get away. Gojo had you exactly where he wanted though, he pushed two digits inside and stretched them slowly in a scissoring motion. He was breathing heavily while rubbing his cock at the display of you getting skullfucked and ass being played with by him.  

You started squirming, letting out panicked noises that were being muffled by Nanami’s cock in your mouth. The blonde was going insane by your throat clenching around him. His hips slammed into your face, shoving his cock down and down and down until your nose met the blonde hair on the base.

A cough, a gag, and suddenly your face was turning blue. Nanami had a sick expression on his face and the other two were too busy to notice your current problem of not being able to breathe.

“Satoru, stop making gross noises.”

“I can’t help it, she’s so erotic.” He gasped, incapable of holding another second back. He pressed the tip of his cock on your entrance and slowly pushed it inside.

Nanami grabbed a chunk of your hair and started fucking your face. He couldn’t stop thrusting inside your mouth and ravishing you. Making you his own cockslut.

Gojo was still trying to push himself inside you but you were just so tight.

“Shouldn’t you prepare her a little more?” Geto hid a laugh behind his hand.

“I like it tight,” Gojo replied, placing his hands on your hips to pull you towards himself as he was pushing into you.

Not letting you rest, Gojo pulled his hips back, only to suddenly slam into you until almost his entire length was inside. Gojo’s fun was cut short though, as Nanami was choking you with his cock, your walls clenched around Gojo’s cock enough to make him cum instantly.

Geto still hadn’t noticed your face turning blue and had thought his friend just couldn’t hold back anymore. He burst into laughter, making fun of him

The vibrations coming from your throat while you were trying to scream were too much for Nanami to handle. His cock twitched inside your throat moments before he came down your throat. He pulled out and rested his cock on your lips as the tip was still spurting his creamy seed.

He held you in place by your hair as your mouth opened and you tried spitting out his cum. Brows furrowing in pain and anger you glared up at him through your lashes that also happened to be covered in cum. Closing one eye, you continued glaring at him.

“Ahh, you look great covered in cum,” he said, wiping his cum away from your lips using his thumb and pressing a long kiss on your swollen lips. “Sorry, I got over myself.”

After his apology, your mood changed instantly. “Did it feel good?”

“It felt amazing!” Gojo answered instead of Nanami, “This guy probably felt good too, I saw his legs shaking in pleasure. You’re such a good girl, (name)!”

“She’s talented and lovely too.” Geto used your own pajama top to wipe your face. “Just my type.” He patted on your head, pressing a chaste kiss on your hair.

Now, you were blushing. “T-thank you.” You sat on the floor in the middle of all of them. Realizing that you were the only bare-naked person in the room made you cover yourself. “Um… Can I get a blanket or something?”

Nanami did as you politely asked while the other two started plotting their next move.

It was too easy to please you. Easier than to trick you.

Nanami joining them would make everything go butter smooth, this ‘friends don’t have boundaries with each other’ play could go on until you graduated. Geto was smirking at Gojo as he lit a cigarette, their senior year was going to be as boring as he thought it was going to be.

~~~

When Shoko returned to the campus three weeks after leaving, she wasn’t expecting you to be there.

But there you were in the secret smoking spot, sitting on Geto’s lap and trying to smoke a cigarette while Gojo laughed at your coughing. Nanami was smoking quietly but a gentle expression was on his face as he watched you try taking a drag from the cigarette again.

Perhaps, you were dumber than she gave you credit for. She wasn’t the one to judge though, she lit a cigarette and walked towards the group to join them teasing you.

[thekisforkeats]

Ooh jm + shy kiss for the prompts?

Ohhh good one! I had to think about this a little and actually wrote up a bunch that didn't quite work at first. But! Here it is!

Set somewhere in the first few minutes of 160, in those weeks between arriving at the safehouse and Hazel Rutter. Featuring autistic Martin trying to navigate social situations because that is evidently what I write now.

(Incidentally the term "weak ties" was coined by a Stanford researcher in 1973. Link to the relevant paper. Credit where due, and all.)

(No beta no edits we die like archive assistants.)

.

.

.

It takes Martin a week to convince Jon to come down into the village with him.

If he's being honest with himself--and he's trying very hard to be honest with himself these days, so he can identify any Lonely-type thoughts--he really just wants to show off his boyfriend to the nice lady at the little shop in the village where he's been picking up essentials.

Martin is a naturally friendly person, or maybe a naturally personable person. This was not always the case; he had to practice a great deal to memorize all the scripts to smooth social interactions that other people seem to navigate without thinking about it at all. It can be horribly exhausting, just going to the shops. It's one of the reasons the Lonely appealed to him; how much easier to just move through life without having to recite all those canned lines?

Now that he's out of its grip, he's come to realize how much those interactions matter. He's been reading a lot on the internet about depression and social interaction, about social circles, and one thing that caught his eye is the idea of "weak ties," those people we're not exactly friends with, but who we see on a regular basis and who help us feel connected to a larger community. People who don't really know us and yet know something about us that helps us feel seen. The bus driver who gives you a familiar nod every morning. the barista who's prepping your order as soon as he notices you in line, the shop lady who tries to keep your favorite tea in stock.

So Martin is trying to cultivate those relationships, to feel part of a wider community, rather than just relying on Jon. He thinks that maybe if he'd had more of that, before, if he'd tried harder to go through the world being seen, he might have handled Jon's coma and his mother's death in some kind of healthier manner.

Maybe not, of course, but he's going to use any tool he can to keep the Lonely at bay.

At any rate, even beyond being very good at social scripts, Martin does genuinely like people, he's a good listener, for an autistic guy he's practically a social butterfly. And Elspeth is a nice lady, maybe mid-40's, the kind of person who runs a shop because she actually likes interacting with a stream of customers on a regular basis. So she's just the sort of person for Martin to practice his "weak tie" skills.

Because, naturally, one of the key benefits of "weak ties" is that they are the sort of people you get to be public about your relationship with when none of your closer friends are around.

Yeah, no, all of the above is just flimsy justification, if Martin's being really honest with himself. He's just madly in love and wants literally everyone within a 500-mile radius to know.

That morning, Martin makes a big show of how badly he wants to spend time with Jon, no really, but he really does have to go down into the village.

"We're out of tea!"

"I don't think we have anything for dinner!"

"But I really want to keep listening to you talk about Scottish history!"

And so on.

Jon gives him a tolerantly amused look, and Martin flushes. Is he that transparent, or is Jon just that good at reading him?

"I suppose I can go into the village with you, Martin," he says, eyes glittering. "Since you're so terribly interested in the House of Stuart. I'd hate to leave you wondering what happened to James II."

Martin would feel guilty, but he can tell Jon is pleased to be "indulging" him, and it's not like Martin hasn't been listening to Jon infodump about whatever random facts Beholding's been given him all week.

They hold hands all the way down into the village, and it's nice, to walk through the place and be seen, together. It's comfortable. They'd held hands on walks before, long ago in London, before the Unknowing, but back then they hadn't been sure what they were, hadn't managed to broach the delicate barrier between "friends" and "something else." Now, they're "boyfriends," and Martin keeps finding himself wanting to go up to each person he sees on the street and shout, "This is my boyfriend, Jonathan Sims!!"

By the time they reach Elspeth's shop, he's feeling a little giddy.

He pushes open the door and the little bell rings, and Elspeth looks up from behind the counter and smiles. "Martin!" she says, and Martin's whole body warms in a very pleasant manner, that this woman he's only known a week remembers him. "Oh, and this must be the elusive Jon." She gives them one of those teasing smiles people give to new couples, glittering eyes and amusement at the silly things people do when they're in limerence.

"Yes," Martin says, and suddenly the words stick in his throat. "Yes, this is... is... umm..." Oh, why has he suddenly frozen like a deer in headlights? Why can't he remember the right words?

"Jonathan Sims," Jon says smoothly, stepping forward to offer the woman his hand. "And yes, I'm Martin's boyfriend."

It occurs to Martin, all at once, that neither of them have said that out loud to anyone else. No wonder he's frozen up.

Elspeth glances at the burn scars on Jon's hand only briefly, then smiles--and it's a genuine smile, not one of those pitying ones people sometimes put on when they see scars like that--and shakes said hand. "Pleased to meet you," she replies. "Elspeth Douglas." She has the Highland accent, but softened; she spent her 20's and 30's in London, she's said, and came back to take over the family store when her father fell ill. The similarity might be part of why Martin likes her--that and the fact that it seems that helping her sickened parent improved her life.

"Ahh, yes. The not-so-elusive Elspeth." Jon actually flashes a grin, which Martin finds remarkable. Since when is Jon... friendly? Well, maybe he's trying for Martin's sake. If so, Martin very much appreciates the effort.

The woman behind the counter laughs, and says, "How can I help you?"

"Oh," Martin manages, his brain catching up and letting his mouth work again, "we're just here for tea and things."

"Of course," Elspeth says. "I'll be here when you're ready."

They turn away, to go deeper into the aisles.

"She seems nice," Jon says almost absently. "Shame about her fa--" He pauses, and frowns. Shakes his head, looking irritated. "You didn't tell me about that," he grumbles.

"No, I didn't. But thank you for trying to keep it in," Martin says.

Jon sighs, lowering his voice. "It's becoming harder and harder to separate what I've learned on my own from what Beholding gives me. How much of my thoughts are mine anymore? Did I actually memorize all those facts about the House of Stuart, or am I getting the... mental Wikipedia page, as it were?"

"Seems like a thing you'd know," Martin comments offhandedly. He's focused on figuring out what kind of rice to buy. He wants to try his hand at sticky rice, which really should have calrose, but Jon likes jasmine rice. Do they get both?

He doesn't want to think about Beholding, and how much of it is Jon anymore. He prefers just thinking about it as something like a smartphone app Jon can use without having to actually have a phone in front of him. He does not want to think about how much of his boyfriend has been potentially consumed by some kind of eldritch thing that feeds on fear.

He really doesn't want to think about the idea that maybe soon, Jon won't even need rice anymore, and will just live off statements, no matter how much he jokes about his partner's "eating habits."

Jon has been talking as Martin's been staring at the rice, but Martin hasn't heard any of it. He's brought back to himself by a squeeze of Jon's hand in his.

"Hey," Jon says softly. "You okay?"

In Jon's voice, Martin hears all the concern that Martin himself has been feeling. He forces himself to look at Jon, and sees bright green eyes staring out of a deep brown face. He realizes he's gotten used to the color of Jon's eyes; before the coma, Jon's eyes were brown, like a deep carnelian, and so large and dark sometimes Martin thought he could fall right into them and be happy drowning there. Now they're green, bright and disarming, and Martin's pretty sure this is why Jon still wears glasses he no longer needs, to hide those strange eyes behind plastic lenses.

Those eyes are looking up at him intensely now, and Jon's brow is furrowed, and his mouth is pulled into a frown in a way that highlights one of the worm scars near his lip, and all of it is adorable, but it's also disconcerting for the contrast between the softness of his voice and the intensity of his expression.

Is Jon as afraid of losing Martin to Forsaken as Martin is of losing Jon to Beholding?

Martin frowns at him for a moment, then sighs. "I just..." He has to look away, back to the bags of rice. "I just... don't like thinking about that. Beholding, and... all of it. I just... I just wish..."

"You wish we could be normal." Jon's tone is still soft, and filled only with love and no sort of guilt or self-recrimination.

"Yeah," Martin says, still staring at the rice.

There's a hesitation, and then Jon says, softly and slowly, "You know... normal people deal with these sort of difficult things, too. There's so much out there that can hurt people... the things we deal with, they're weirder than most of the rest of it, but..."

"Yeah, I know, Jon, I just..." Martin hunches his shoulders. "Don't want to lose you again," he finally mumbles.

Jon hesitates a moment, and then he leans in to give Martin a soft kiss on the cheek.

Martin flushes bright red--Elspeth's right there!--and turns to stare at Jon. "W-what... what was... that for?!"

Jon, too, is blushing. "I just... ah... I just... wanted you to know that... that I'm... here. You haven't... lost me. Or anything."

"Oh," Martin says. "Well. Thank you."

There's a moment where they just look at each other, and then Jon blurts, "...Can I kiss you again? It's just, I haven't all morning, and I really sort of wanted to spend the morning cuddling, but you wanted to come down to the shops..."

"Here?!" Martin stares at him.

"We can go behind the shelves if you like," Jon says, blushing furiously.

For some reason, this makes Martin giggle, and then he leans down to brush his lips to Jon's. Softly, shyly, as if they haven't been kissing each other all week, because he really is terribly aware of the fact that there are other people around.

"Tell you what," Martin says as he pulls back, surprisingly breathless despite how short the contact of their lips was, "let's finish up the shopping and then we can cuddle all afternoon."

Jon smiles up at him. "Promise?" The smile widens. "You're not going to drag me around to introduce me to every villager individually?"

"I was not--!" Martin glares at him, but now Jon's smile has become one of those shit-eating grins he gets sometimes, and Martin can't stay mad at him at all.

"You knew," he accuses, but there's no heat in it.

"I had a hunch," Jon says, humming. "I didn't want to spoil your fun, though."

Martin rolls his eyes, and then reaches out to take Jon's hand again. "Well, then, we'd better get to it. Jasmine or calrose? Rice, I mean."

"Both, I think," Jon says. "I find myself very much desiring normality of late, and rice is a terribly normal sort of thing."

[paisley-print]

10:00pm / Happy Birthday

About: It’s Jack’s Birthday and you planned something special. 

Warnings: Marriage problems, infidelity, alcohol.

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Note: You wanna see some real speed boy? (Months of not posting and two chapters in less then 24 hours. Whack.)

Series Master List

@scorpionerd  @just-here-for-the-moment@sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama​ @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove​ @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @ohyeasam @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y​  @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13

“Hi Jack, it’s....” you glance over at the clock on the stove, checking the time. “It’s ten. I’m calling to see when you’ll be home. Okay, love you, bye.” You played the message back, cringing a little at the way your words slurred together, but sent it, anyway. 

You reached over to pour yourself another glass of wine. It was your third one, but you were already feeling the effects. He said he would be home at seven. If you knew he was going to work overtime tonight, you wouldn’t have spent all day rushing around. 

Your stomach hurt just thinking about the tray of lasagna and birthday cake you spent hours working on. Still though, you wanted to wait to eat until he got home. 

This year had to be better than the last. You doubted whether you could make it through another twelve months of silence. Plus, with the whole Ezra thing, you needed a grand gesture to show that you were willing to work on this. He cared for you; he had said it. He loved you. He would always love you, and although he looked through you as if peering at a specter, you believed him. You hadn’t been the best wife these last few months, so you felt as though you owed him this. 

Tonight was just for him, and everything had been prepared perfectly. His favorite movie on the TV, beers in the fridge, birthday gift all wrapped on the nightstand upstairs. Months ago, he mentioned a pair of cuff links his father used to wear while the two of you were combing through old photo albums you had found in the attic. They were square, with yellow gold trim and two crossed six-shooter pistols set into a background of black onyx. 

Jack’s father left when Jack was nine, and one of the few happy memories he had was the day his father brought home his first suit for Sunday mass. His father taught him how to make sure his shirt wasn’t creased, how to wear a necktie, comb his hair back with gel, and finally the importance of cuff links. 

While looking over the photograph, Jack had mentioned liking the style of the cuff links in passing, but you could see they held quite a bit of emotional value. After that, you had spent weeks tracking down the exact set. With the help of a Reddit board, a few antique shop owners and one generous seller on Etsy, you secured a pair identical to those in the photograph. 

Keeping the secret had been tough. You almost let it slip a few times, but you will yourself to go on a little longer. The surprise would be that much more meaningful if you gave it to him on his birthday…. if he ever planned to show up, that is. 

As you finished another glass, you stood from the table and walked into the guest bathroom to reapply your lipstick. A few hours ago, your makeup was perfect, but it was now looking smudged. You tried to fix it as best you could while the room around you spun.

You had one of his dress shirts, with thigh-high stockings and a new lilac set of lingerie you bought specifically for this occasion, and heels you took off about three hours ago. You felt so incredibly ugly looking at your reflection, and you weren’t sure why. A few hours ago you were on top of the world, now you were willing yourself not to cry. 

Once you were done touching up your lipstick, you grabbed another glass of wine and took a seat on the couch. It was then your phone buzzed, and a number you recognized popped up on the screen.

You picked it up, becoming aware of how fast your heart was beating in your chest. “Hello?”

“Little bird?” Ezra’s voice came floating over the receiver. “Forgive me for calling at this hour, but I was becoming worried about your lack of response to my messages. Noticed your car in town today on my way to work and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You felt guilt grip tightly at your chest. He had sent you a few texts since the night of the shooting. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. This man was bad for you. It didn’t matter how much you liked him; you were a married woman trying to work on your relationship. Ezra knew that, he should respect you and understand why you weren’t jumping to text him back.

“I’m fine” your aid.

He paused, hearing the way you were slurring your words. “Little bird-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” you snapped, anger rising out of you from nowhere. “I’m not your little bird, okay? I have a fucking name.”

Ezra seemed incredibly taken off guard “my apologies-”

“And I need you to stop texting me and calling me. Whatever the fuck you think we had, we didn’t. You were convenient, that’s all. I think it’s seriously creepy how you keep trying to hit on me when you know I’m married. Seriously, go find yourself a real fucking girlfriend and stop trying to ruin my marriage.”

The silence that followed was deafening, so you continued, “okay? Please get out of my life.”

“Understood,” he said simply. “Have a nice night.”

You hung up the phone and threw it onto the other side of the couch.

-

It was nearly 5:00am when Jack finally came through the door. The first thing he noticed was the half empty bottle of wine left open on the table, then you, asleep on the couch. He set down his satchel and locked the door behind him. Then he went around, shutting out the lights, then the tv. Once he was done, he sat next to you and rubbed your arm to wake you up. 

His patience was running thin. He had wished you up in bed by the time he got home, asleep, so he didn’t have to deal with any of this. “‘Y/n’ come on. Time to go to bed.”

You drew in a slow breath and blinked at him as you woke. You could still feel the effects of the alcohol burning bright. “What time is it?” you mumbled, sitting up. 

“Come on, I’m gonna pick you up. Ready?”

 You nodded and allowed him to stand you up and put you over his shoulder. You noticed how his shirt was untucked in the back.

Once in the bedroom, he laid you down on the bed. He moved towards the closet but took his hand and stood. He sighed in annoyance and moved his face away as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Happy birthday,” you smiled, the heat from the alcohol making your face feel warm. 

“Not my birthday anymore,” he said, trying to gently pull away from you.

Some part of you knew you were making a fool out of yourself. “I got a gift for you-”

He shook his head. “You’re disgusting.”

The words stung. You let go, your eyes widening, like you were about to cry. Then you realized what he thought you meant by gift. He knew you were too drunk to sleep with, so implying that he would have offended him.

 You laughed, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “No, not like that. I’m sorry about - I. I drank when I was cooking because I thought you would be home earlier.” You noticed a smudge of pink on the inside of his collar. Then you noticed he wasn’t wearing a tie either. You lifted your hand, intending to touch it “What’s-”

 He jerked back, then turned, going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. You jumped at the sound and the way it made the photos hung on the wall rattle. You weren’t exactly sure what you did or saw to deserve a response like that. 

When you heard the shower turn on, you figured you would get ready for bed yourself, but before you did, you withdrew the gift from the nightstand and placed it on his side of the bed. After that, you made your way to the guest bathroom to take off your makeup, then back downstairs to heat up some food. Nausea was already beginning to set in. You needed something in your stomach. While you were down there, you made a point to pack some leftovers in Tupperware containers that he could grab on his way out the door in the morning.

-

You slept in the guest room that night, figuring it was best to allow him space. He left before you woke, but you could have sworn you felt the mattress dip sometime in the morning and a soft touch come up to smooth down your hair. It could have very well been a dream though. The hangover was a bad one, and it was times like this you realize your age was catching up with you more quickly then you would like to acknowledge. Your plan for the rest of the day was to clean, mostly because you didn’t know what else to do and if you sat mulling over the events of last night it would just make you sad. 

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

Kaoru & Toshiya Rolling Stone Japan 18th May 2021

DIR EN GREY talks about the current unique expression method and fun.

DIR EN GREY has postponed their concert scheduled to be held at Tokyo Garden Theater on May 6th. However, if you read this interview that took place two days before the decision to postpone the live, it's easy to imagine that the band will continue to move forward no matter what.

Using the single "Oboro" released on April 28 as the reason for this interview , we asked leader Kaoru (Gt) and Toshiya (Ba),who makes his first appearance in Rolling Stone Japan, about the current state of the band.

Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated : ------------- Original interview: Rolling Stone Japan (includes pictures)

Text: Joe Yokomizo -First of all, please tell us the details of releasing this single at this timing. Kaoru: We've been talking about releasing a single around this time for a long time. But, we were asked by the company to release it sooner (laughs).  They told us “Can’t you release it around February?”. But we said we couldn’t record it in such a hurry and pushed the release back (laughs). So, the release was decided  at the time it was originally scheduled.

-Is it a song you wrote recently?

Kaoru: We chose it from the ones we had in stock.

-How do you choose a song? Like, is there a discussion among the members? Kaoru: We had a talk about if it’d be good to release a ballad or a melodious song this time. Then, we chose it from the songs we had at that time. Toshiya: That's right. We thought  a melodious song or a mellow song would be good, so we chose it from the songs we had in stock. As a result of the discussions we had, we came to the conclusion that “Oboro” was the best choice. I personally thought this song might be able to become a single, but I also thought that it could be a good idea to save it for the album.  I thought it could become a song  that would be the core of the album even if it was just included in the album. Kaoru: We haven’t released any ballad as a single recently. We did it quite a while ago so we felt like it would be good if we tried it.

-It's true that a ballad as a single is quite fresh for DIR EN GREY, and the arrangements are ... Kaoru: Simple. Pretty simple, but it took us a while to get there. -Do you want to increase the number of notes that are being played at the same time? Kaoru: No. Rather than messing with that, it felt like the notes were gradually confronting each other. There wasn’t a big change, but it took us some time to decide the overall flow, how to do it and the final result. -DIR EN GREY has a strong image as a band that is playing lives often. Until now, you released something and toured, released something, and toured. All over again. The releases haven’t stopped yet but the tours and therefore the lives themselves have stopped because of Corona. How do you feel about the state of the band? Toshiya: Since we couldn’t play lives, I think the part of exploring as a band is big.  But personally, at some point, I got over that. The band wants to move, but it’s hard to do it. Even if we think about it, we can’t do anything about the situation so, we haven’t stopped thinking about it, but I think we got over it at some point. Rather, we had no choice but to get over it. -Even if you keep thinking about it, nothing will happen.

Toshiya: That’s right. Even if we just write songs and do the pre-production all the time, if that’s all we are doing, it feels like a pie in the sky all the time. It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? We didn’t get another answer before but, the process of getting that answer has changed. There was a series of routines like making an album, playing lives, making an album, and doing live performances after that but wasn’t that cut off entirely? Then, we are doing it as usual, but something has changed at some point.  And it may just be that kind of era from now on. I think we have no choice but to adapt to this. However, even I think about how it was before, I’m starting to think that it won’t be like that again, and we may just get over it. -Did the production itself change due to the lack of lives? It is often said that a song evolves when it is being playing live, but if you make a song in a situation where it is difficult to imagine playing it live, will the image of the song, how to make it, and the depth of making it change? Kaoru:  Even if we are making songs, it feels different from usual. To put it the other way around,  as the situation is unique now, maybe it’s a song that can only be done at this moment. But it’s like…. wouldn't it be nice if we could create something interesting? I don't know if we are even thinking about it. I think that the fact that there was always a tour up until now had a big influence. As we always had a tour, until then we’ve limited production time. That's why there was a switch, because now we have infinite time. To be honest, if you take it easy, you’ll space out. After all, it was great to be pushed, force myself into doing it  and work hard (laughs). -About making it “the right time” by themselves -Regarding the unlimited production time, how was it for you, Toshiya? Toshiya: I think I'm grateful. However, I want to use it as much as I have. As there were moments I got distracted/ was being lazy, I feel that there are good points and bad points, to be honest. -What's the good thing about this recording? Have you tried something new? Toshiya: After all, in the end time is chasing me (laughs). But this time, I felt that I had a little leeway in my heart. That's why I thought about the single in various ways.Then I wondered if I could release this or that and people would listen to it. It’s common to say this but, when you start thinking about figures, I've even thought about if it's good or bad to release something at this timing. I wondered if it’d be better when this corona situation has settled down a bit more. But well, even if you wait for that time to come, then I would wonder about when that time would come, so in the end, I thought it was unavoidable to think about it. If the right time doesn't come, I think we should make it become the “right time”. Rather than worrying about it, I thought that if such a song was completed and it felt good, we should release it. -It's certainly important to create the right timing. Toshiya: People all over the world are dealing with it now, or more like, we are waiting forever, aren’t we? Personally, I don’t think the situation will return to normal even if we wait. I think it’s more useful to think about how to proceed in a situation like this. I personally came this conclusion, or at least, I’m trying to. -Listening to what you are saying, I remembered Samuel Beckett's play "Waiting for Godot." The two main characters are waiting for Godot, but in fact, no one knows who Mr. Godot is, and I don't know if Godot actually exists. But they are waiting, believing that he will eventually come. Toshiya: Everyone, including myself, is waiting now. But what on earth are you waiting for? If you think about it, it’s like we're just waiting for "that moment”, right? But honestly, I don't think “that” will be back. I think it has changed. Then we have to move towards it. I'm a bit scared to stop waiting any longer, but I think we have to take a step forward. Kaoru: I agree with you. -DIR EN GREY Unique ideas -By the way, the new song "Oboro" is said to be a sequel to a previous song. The lyrics are done by vocalist Kyo but for you two, is it a sequel? Kaoru: I was told that but I wasn’t particularly drawn (by that song). The beats and tempo of the original song of "Oboro" are similar to that song. So maybe he was drawn by that and made the lyrics like this. After hearing that the lyrics would be like that, I've never been aware of it. Toshiya: I wasn't even aware of it at all either. I thought “is this it?”.

-By the way, in Toshiya's words, "Oboro" is a song that can be the core of the next album ... Toshiya: It’s just a song. The talks about the album are making rapid progress but now there are endless possibilities, including how to play the songs live. So, I think it's okay if there are songs that exist just as part of the album, and conversely, there may be songs that are only for playing them live. In other words, from here on, how to add value will become even more important than ever. Kaoru: It's nice to have songs that you can only play live. Toshiya: About that, if you might do that at that time, you might want to play it live? I’m thinking about how to add that value to the song. I want to do a live concert, but we can't, moreover if you even do a concert normally, I’m sure it won’t be interesting. -It looks like broadcasting a regular live is difficult, right? Kaoru: A live that it’s going to be only broadcasted is a bit tough. In that sense, hearing what Toshiya said about songs that only can be played at lives are, in other words, songs that won’t become part of an album are really interesting. Toshiya: I don’t know. I was thinking it to myself and I just said it (laughs). Kaoru: There may be quite a few….songs that are like, “Which one is this?". Moreover, no one mentions those songs in an interview (laughs). Toshiya: Ahahaha. Kaoru: Even among the fans, sometimes it’s like “which song is that one?”, and don’t even know the title. The set list doesn't  even have the title of the song. Toshiya: I think it doesn't have to be just the song , but the production. I recently thought about it. In the past there used to be a lot of  imaginativeness/ playfulness on the DIR EN GREY’s cds. Recently, I remembered that was pretty normal. But from now on, if we are going to put out the record ourselves,  I want to make something that can be enjoyable. On the old DIR EN GREY cds, I remember I was asked to find out where the lyrics were written. When I think about it now, it's quite a prank, but that prank was surprisingly interesting. -How about the leader (laughs)? Kaoru: I put a lot of things into the sound (laughs). -The  particularity/commitment in “Oboro” -The “mischievous and eccentric” idea that Toshiya mentioned is swallowed normally before one knows. I think expression itself is a struggle, but in the age of the Internet, the speed at which it is swallowed is accelerating. That’s why,  even if that happens, I think it is important to keep fighting, recognizing that "I am not just like this". Kaoru: That's exactly what I do. Because I never thought I have a good taste. Even though I can’t make a song, it feels like I'm doing it just because I have a competitive spirit. -Like you don’t want to be taken into ordinary things,  or do you want to do something that has never been seen before? Kaoru: I want to do that, but it takes time. Speaking of gimmicks, in “Oboro” there are a lot of them. -What kind of “gimmicks” are there? Please tell me some. Kaoru: It's not interesting if I told them (laughs). There are many sounds that you can't hear. There are lots of sounds that you can feel.  I thought it would be great if you could feel it. And I'm thinking about putting a lot of that into the next album. -There is something I would like to ask about lives. I think we are in a situation where values are conflicting. If you play a live, even among fans there’ll be the conflict of the “Don’t play a live in these circumstances”  versus the  “Thank you for playing a concert in these circumstances”  position. Kaoru: It's difficult, isn't it? Neither of these positions are wrong. However, as a band, we won’t stop. So, if the conditions allow it, the live will go on. I think there are a lot of people who says “"Oh, I'm going to live at a time like this. These people’s views have changed”. But well, I think this is happening in other bands as well. -That’s right.  In any band, there is a faction that says to play lives and a faction that wants to stop. How should they come to terms with each other? Kaoru: I don’t think normal life will be back for a while here. If someone says “Yes, it’s nothing in the end”, it may change, but it’s that going to happen? The point is, I think it will be difficult unless the number of infected people goes down. Because Taiwan, where the number of infected people has decreased, there are even festivals taking place. Toshiya: We are choosing a method (against Corona  virus)  that doesn't work right now, but as it is the government who is doing it, isn’t the situation delicate? I think so. When it comes to what is driving people, I think it’s the number of people getting infected, as Kaoru said. The only way to reduce that number may simply cause damage. If you lock down hard like in the UK, you will suffer tremendous financial damage. I think that's why everyone can get lost on the way. However, although it is extreme, unless you have such a strong will, you will continue to do it subtlety and the number will drop again,  “Oh, now it’s ok because the numbers have dropped a little” and then after a while they will surely increase again, won’t them? And then repeat the same process. If that happens, I’m worried the same process will be repeated again and again if you don’t cut it off at some point. Kaoru: Tokyo is under the state of emergency for the third time, but I would like them to stop doing lockdown so suddenly. It’s so hard if there is no warm-up/grace period.

Toshiya: Regarding this state of emergency, I will obey what they say, because I have to obey. But in order to do it, I want something that gives me hope. I feel like suddenly, time was taken from me. -Before the light can be seen, “Oboro” -I want hope. That being said, DIR EN GREY's music always sees light at the end. But in the current situation, we can't see that light. I don't think you can understand the meaning of the lyrics unless you're Kyo, but I'm wondering what "Oboro" means. Like, in this era everything is obscure in an ambiguous sense? Or is it a night with a hazy moon but, you can see the light even faintly because it’s hazy? How do you two interpret it?

*Joe is making a reference to the song title,   朧 (Oboro) means hazy,dim,faint.* Toshiya: If possible, I think I want it to be hazy before you are able to see the light. Before people lose the courage to do their best, being surrounded by fog all the time. - It's true that humans aren't that strong. If there is hope, what is it? What kind of hope are you seeing now? Toshiya: That would be ……the best would be that the Corona situation comes to an end. But before that, I'd like  "Oboro" to be released properly. Some CD shops are closed due to a state of emergency, so even if you made a reservation, some people may not be able to get it on the release date. So, I hope that "Oboro" will reach everyone who made a reservation. -Which is Kaoru’s Oboro? Kaoru: I think either of them are interesting. In any situation as well, it’s something that it’s only now. It’s also an expression method that can only be done now. Of course, the band will continue, and I will be writing songs, but I think it would be great if we could express something that can only be done now, or something that is interesting. -Anyway, "Oboro" is an excellent title. Toshiya: When you think about it now, that’s right. It can be interpreted as this uncertain situation, and it can also be interpreted as a situation where a faint light is visible. Kaoru: I want you to listen to it and feel it.

[contemplativepancakes]

yarn rants with dandelion

3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3

Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush. 

“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”

Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”

Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy. 

“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?” 

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch. 

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks. 

“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself. 

Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt. 

After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room. 

“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”

Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit. 

Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more. 

Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man.  Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.

Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.

Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it. 

Fuck. 

He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads,  out of stock  blinks back at him. 

Double fuck. 

He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it? 

There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason. 

Geralt huffs at the thought. 

- 

Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly. 

Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot. 

Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”

Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion. 

He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it. 

Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn. 

“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages. 

Dandelion beams. “Thank you!” 

Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated. 

“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks. 

“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.

“Oh?”

“No boyfriend.”

Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?” 

“Oh. Um. A blanket.”

Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”

“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”

“It’s for a baby.”

Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question. 

“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”

Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully. 

Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps. 

“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”

That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”

Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”

Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”

“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.

Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”

“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words. 

Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”

Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car. 

“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies. 

He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off. 

If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway. 

-

Geralt looks down at his phone.  yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?

He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing  Dandelion 🌼.

He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text. 

See you then  , he types, and goes back to make the  s  lowercase. 

“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.

“Who are  you  texting?” Geralt retorts weakly. 

Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”

Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”

“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back. 

“Are we watching this movie or not?”

Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear. 

-

The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet. 

He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral. 

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. 

-

It’s not fine.

When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky. 

Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over. 

“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”

“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground. 

Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten. 

“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”

Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”

Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”

Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”

“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits. 

Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”

“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”

Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”

Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”

“Fine. I will.”

Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.

He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue. 

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting. 

-

Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video. 

He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a  thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition. 

He could be talking about anyone. 

Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway. 

He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask. 

Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile. 

Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.

“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”

Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and  hmm s right back. 

-

A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin. 

Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand. 

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.

“What did you just say?”

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time. 

“No, no, before that.”

Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”

Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”

Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”

“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”

Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.

Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him. 

“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”

“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my  name ?”

“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You’re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”

Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”

“But what?”

“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss. 

Geralt goes without complaint. 

-

While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard. 

When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him. 

Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”

“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him. 

Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter. 

Sorry I didn’t know your name <3

“You’re forgiven.”

On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”

Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one. 

Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”

Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”

Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”

-

In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across  the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!

Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal. 

“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table. 

“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side. 

Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously. 

“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier. 

“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile. 

Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest. 

“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly. 

“You have no idea.” 

Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk. 

Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?” 

Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”

Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”

“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says. 

Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”

Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering. 

“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”

Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple. 

Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him. 

He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution. 

Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so. 

“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”

Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.

“What?” 

“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”

“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks. 

Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks. 

Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces. 

Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay. 

[becausethathappens]

SEXTEMBER - EPISODE ONE

themes: abandonment, shame, confusion, and discovery

(i was summarizing for a friend who can’t listen until later and figured it’d be good to share with anyone else in the same situation.)

it’s really clear still they were both super uncomfortable talking about this. they both sounded like they normally do on other people’s shows when the topic gets brought up. a lot of heavy-handed innuendo to assure you they can hang, but as soon as they got more into it, it quickly devolved into giggles and awkward “you did WHAT” reactions. i think the upcoming discussion on purity is going to have a baseline of the church being the background antagonist that will make opening up a bit less abrupt. as it were, rhett had to basically launch right into his discovering how his dick worked. they were appropriately uneasy about that transition and i think rhett’s song is more proof that he’s been thinking about this (and figuring out a way to work the word strap-on into the episode before it even started) a lot and was very anxious about sharing any of it.

it’s rewarding to hear them move past their discomfort and discuss their individual experiences openly. they also prefaced it that this could all change or continue to change tomorrow, since their thoughts are always evolving, and that’s also nice to keep in mind.

general conclusions of what was discussed:

rhett believes his brother got some variation of a sex talk from his parents but he never did. he likened it to his parents assuming he’d hear from the church when he needed to. he’s never discussed the topic with them to this day, from what he implied. eventually, the church did begin discussing sex and that you should not be having it and those attitudes fell in line. prior to that, both appear to have been pretty much left to figure it out for themselves. he kept going back to this and at one point even tried to make it seem like he doesn’t blame his parents and has done similar things with his own sons, but he emphasizes repeatedly that he was given no guidance about anything besides what not to do eventually. a caveboy discovering fire was an approximated analogy, for example. 

link’s mom gave him a diagram and addressed the topic with clinical sensibilities. it was made it clear if he had questions he should raise them, but he never wanted to. link also made it clear that while rhett discovered most of this information from inviting himself to friends houses who had older brothers and having one himself, he had even less of an idea about any of it because rhett didn’t share. he does point out that they’ll discuss the purity aspects next time, but they did begin having dialogues about the topic when they began to try to control the same urges when they started to see how incompatible these actions/thoughts were with the church’s views. 

both came off as wanting to acknowledge the fact that both paths were rocky and could have used more open talk about the topic (probably an impetus for the series). link is a self-described late bloomer, but he also indicates that they both fairly slow-going and were following what they deemed normal or expected, watching how others and one another navigated the topics, then making many decisions about their own actions or expectations. 

it’s conjecture, but these episodes are really seeming to explicitly be about them discussing the topic openly with each other for the first time, to me. which is what i was expecting and i appreciate that they’re willing to be that vulnerable/gutsy to share with anyone let alone all of us. the way they reacted to and discussed things makes it clear some of these experiences were still private and embarrassing up until when the story was told. rhett sharing his first time jerking off and asking link not to make him feel ashamed of bringing it up in the first place, for example, comes to mind. i think it’s about them wearing down the filter that they have around the topic while testing the waters for how poorly it’ll be received (by general listeners, not fans who don’t vibe) if they were do this more often. 

it’s A Lot, but it’s always refreshing to hear the two process their journey beyond of the shame of their conservative upbringing. and to just to hear them talk about dicks and clits and strap-ons, honestly. 

i think being open and loud about enjoying sex will be a major throughline because they didn’t get that and wish they had.

out of order highlights, from memory (heavily pet paraphrased):

rhett believes pussy is “the pinnacle of creation.”

link didn’t want his parents to know if he was dating at all, even once he started, because it meant people knew he could potentially be intimate with that person and it was too much to handle discussing.

rhett found out about sex by his brother showing him a vintage magazine with women athletes in uniform, posed nude. with lots of bush.

rhett found out sperm wasn’t a powder when a friend showed him their older brother’s used and dried out underwear at a sleepover.

link remembers makeout parties in grade school being a lot of pressure on the attendees in fear they’d be found in a compromising position by the adults.

rhett thought he broke his dick the first time he jerked off. he thought powder was supposed to come out, not semen. the same time, he also had an elaborate fantasy about the girls he thought were cute at school coming up to him and taking turns inspecting his dick while he was jerking off on a medical gurney in an observation room.

link’s mom gave him a pamphlet that explains the functional mechanics and had a diagram of an erection. he read this in the closet with a flashlight but never discussed it with rhett or anyone else at the time.

rhett would discuss sex with other guys but not link or ben because he didn’t feel appropriate to discuss with them. he let the guys he hung out with that were into sex lead the discussion/exploration.

link doesn’t remember the first time he jerked off. he estimates it beginning around 7th grade, based on remembering a victoria’s secret catalog being left out when he had friends stop by and feeling awkward that they might put two and two together.

link remembers being very into the lingerie worn by the women and specifically likes the panties with suspenders attached to a garter or stockings below

rhett’s exhibitionism dates back to him “heavy petting” (and being pet in turn by) a girlfriend during a church lock-in, where they were laying in sleeping bags, next to link and others, listening to a pastor address the crowd.

rhett told link about this afterwards and it’s implied this is around the time where they began discussing the subject.

link saw a portion of the sex scene in lethal weapon ii by accident very early, with his dad and was only aware it was wrong and he shouldn’t be watching, not really what was going on onscreen.

rhett eventually stopped dating the girl from the lock-in because of that experience at the lock-in.

link’s initial impressions of porn and other adult content was that it was wrong which is why it was stolen, hidden in the woods, fast forwarded through or otherwise made inaccessible. he burned porn in the woods because the temptation to look at it felt so wrong and strong.

they both have only had sex with their wives.

they both waited for marriage to have sex.

they used to pretend to look at baseball cards and take turns going into a dingy bathroom to look at porn mags left out by the shady dude that worked there. rhett would jerk off to them, then let link have a turn. this whole time rhett thought link was jerking off, too, but he wasn’t. this eventually escalated until link stole a magazine by putting it down his pants to smuggle out to the woods for later viewing.

[poesparakeet-fics]

Read it here or on AO3!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay Additional Tags: Shadogast - Freeform, dunamancy, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Prank Wars, Tickling, rib tickling Summary:

What happens to a ticklish wizard when he manages to piss off too many of the people who love him? Allies are made and lessons are learned.

FIC

“Caleb Widogast!” Caleb jumped as he walked into the kitchen of the Xorhaus, unsure of what he could have possibly done to upset anyone this early in the morning. He was even more surprised when he saw who. “Essek?” Caleb stammered, taken aback. The drow was perched on a large kitchen chair with a cup of Caduceus’ tea in his hands and a pinched look on his face. “Schatze, I’m sorry, were we to meet? I hope you weren’t waiting long, I--” “No.” Essek corrected him sharply. “I am here to have tea with Mr. Clay at his request, to discuss the situation in Savalierwood. But he just told me that he healed some pretty distinct injuries for you, yesterday?” Caleb felt a guilty cringe fold his stomach in half. He sighed, looking at Caduceus. “So that just came up, ja?” “Yeah,” Caduceus responded, “thought it might be why you slept in.” “Ja, I had a bit of a fall--” “A fall? From where?” Essek’s gaze was intense. Caleb dropped his eyes to the floor. “Oh just, you know, clumsy--” “Really? You clumsily practiced dunamantic phasing on your own and fell through the floor?” “I think it was three floors, actually…” Caduceus mused quietly. The cringe came to the surface and showed, unbidden on Caleb’s face. “Essek, I--” “I have never limited you. It was the one thing I asked.” “I know, I--” “Caleb.” He froze when Essek cut him off, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. Essek stared him down hard before continuing. “I had… better masters than you had, when I was a young wizard. Infinitely gentler, certainly. But they would have whipped me for practicing phasing magic by myself. Truly. You could have cut yourself in half, dismembered yourself, crushed yourself, suffocated in a wall--” Essek seemed to cut himself off with a wave of his hand. “The point… the point is it would cause me a great heartbreak if irresponsible use of the magic I taught you led to your demise. Please promise me again, and keep it this time.” Caleb ducked his head, feeling like a rightfully scolded school child. “I will, ja. I am sorry.” Essek gave him a look that said he didn't entirely believe him. “I do trust you. I do not trust your curiosity. It’s only a virtue if it doesn’t get you killed.” Caleb laughed softly, nodding as he sat down at the table with them and accepted a teacup from the still-silent Caduceus. He winked at Essek. “I think I could say the same to you, but fair enough. If I do it again, I’ll let you whip me.” Essek smiled back, but the doubt didn’t leave his expression. ... “CALEB!” Beau’s voice thundered from upstairs, and Caduceus almost dropped the knife he was using to prepare vegetables for dinner. He spun around to see the wizard in question with his hands in his component pouch, running as fast as he could through the kitchen and out the back door. Beau’s quick steps followed, but by the time she was in the kitchen they could both hear the familiar woosh of a misty step from outside. She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, hands clenched into fists, looking… different than Caduceus had ever seen her. What was it? “Uh… hey. Did you get some new clothes.?” Beau turned to him silently, eyes burning holes in his head. It was pretty scary, actually. “Oh! Uh… is that what this is about?” Beau’s clothes were bright magenta where they had once been her usual cobalt blue. She was still staring at Caduceus with her fists clenched. Veth and Fjord were creeping wearily into the kitchen behind her. “I think it looks nice--!” Veth offered, only to choke off in a scared squeak when Beau rounded to face her. Beau reached out to yank Fjord’s hat off his head and put it on. “Hey!’ Fjord protested, before clamping one hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Oh. I see.” As it perched on Beau’s head, the hat instantly turned the same bright magenta of her robes. When she handed it back it returned to its usual color. The whole room was biting lips to keep an amused smile off their face, lest they become the new target for her fury. Beau took a deep breath before bellowing again. “CALEB!” She spoke into the air, her voice loud enough to hear throughout the house. “I KNOW THAT SPELL DOESN’T GO FAR. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM GOING TO DO DOPE MONK SHIT TO YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM, TIE YOU UP AND FEED YOU TO A ROOM FULL OF TIEFLINGS. You will FUCKING SUFFER! THINK OF A NEW NAME, CAUSE CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” At the end of her tirade Beau took a deep breath and started to walk upstairs again, but not before spinning around and jabbing a finger at everyone in the kitchen. “ANYONE caught harboring the wizard will share his fucking fate!” … "...CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” Caleb was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his hiding place in Fjord’s empty bedroom when Beau finished her threats, but by the time she was climbing the stairs again he had disappeared with a crackling pop. When the disorienting suck of the teleport spell faded he was standing on a clay path in a dimly-lit garden next to a trio of small towers made of iridescent grey brick. An arcane weather-vane creaked in the darkness. He started toward the door. “Caleb?” A head of pale curls popped up over the top of a bush of dark purple flowers, a frown of concern on the face beneath. “Essek, hello. Ah… may I spend the night?” Essek walked toward him as he pulled floral gardening gloves off of his hands, eyes narrowed wearily. “Of course, I am always happy to have you...” He reached Caleb and placed a distracted kiss on his cheek. “... did something happen at home?” “Yes.” Caleb answered, only to stutter as Essek’s worry grew, “Oh, ah, nothing bad. Well, nothing very bad. I just need to avoid Beauregard for a bit.” Essek’s worry immediately evaporated to be replaced with amused annoyance. “I see. What did you do this time?” They both started to stroll through the garden toward Essek’s back door. “Oh, just some illusion work. It will go away by morning. She deserves it, after stealing my spellbook while I was sleeping.” “Mhmm.” Essek hummed, linking his arm with Caleb’s. “But wasn’t her stealing your spellbook revenge for…” “The magic spiders, ja, but I had to do that! She--” “--the disappearing ink, yes, I remember. Are you sensing a pattern here, chathtiu?” Caleb sniffed and turned his nose up. “I have no idea what you mean.” Essek’s smile turned indulgent as he pulled Caleb into his home. “I’m sure you don’t. Beauregard does have a way of pushing your buttons, hm?” “She is the expert.” “I should ask her for advice, one of these days.” Caleb only laughed, pulling the smaller man into his arms. “You have your own way of pushing my buttons, don’t you schatz?” Essek smiled back. “You’re right, of course. I do.” ... Caleb stalked through the library of the Xorhause, circling it room by room. While his books were sitting on the desk he’d been working at the night before, their holsters were missing. He shifted the papers on his desk, panic rising in his chest. Where were they? “Caleb?” Jester was standing in the doorway, his holsters dangling from one finger. Caleb let out a sigh of relief. “Jester! Danke! Where were they?” “Sorry, I think Sprinkle must have stolen them.” Caleb shook his head, the tension in his chest easing. “That’s alright. I’m just glad they are found.” He reached out for them, stopping short when another figure entered the room. It was Beau, her clothes now back to their normal deep blue. Their eyes met for a moment, but the monk just breezed past as though she didn’t even notice Caleb was there. It had been a week since the incident with her clothes with no revenge or further threats, and Caleb was starting to wonder if he’d finally won the war. He shrugged his holsters on as the two women sat down on the sofa. He missed Jester’s giggle until it was too late. “Hey Caleb?” Beau asked. “Uh, ja?” Caleb cringed a little, turning around. Beau’s look was positively predatory. “Fuck you.” Caleb was about to respond when the sensation of fingers digging into his ribs flushed all the air out of him in one squeal. He spun around clumsily, hands flapping, but nobody was near him. He craned his neck to look down, his arms helplessly hugging his own ribcage while his knees buckled. That’s when he realized where the sensation was coming from. “Wh-what? No, I-- ah! Please!” His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his holsters to try and escape the traitorous leather trap, but the buckle was trapped under a magical seal of iridescent purple wax with the image of a skeleton key pressed into its surface. “Fuck!” Beaureguard was grinning like a gnoll. “What’s that buddy? Fuck you?” “Aah!” Caleb’s whole body convulsed and hit the carpet as the tickling escalated, even more invisible fingers reaching out from the leather to stroke delicate bones under pale skin and plain cloth. “No no! Please!” “Can I try?” Jester asked, giggling. “Nein!” “Sure, go for it.” “Fuck yooooou Caleb!” Caleb couldn’t answer her with words, he could only wail wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, trying desperately to resist the currently useless instinct to lock his arms at his sides so he could try and pull the holsters off over his head, but it was no use. All he could do was paw uselessly at the leather before Beureguard hissed the trigger word again and all he could see was stars. “Uh… everything alright in here?” Fjord’s voice came from the direction of the door. Caleb couldn’t see him over the sofa. “Fjord!” Caleb screeched. “Plea-hee-se! Evil!” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked and his laughter turned silent, his head thrown back against the carpet. “Huh?” Beau answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just getting a little payback for my pink phase. Stole his holsters and Essek cursed ‘em.” A wave of betrayal strong enough to overpower his ticklishness gave Caleb just enough breath to shout “WHAT?!” before the laughter overtook him again, tears building in his eyes. “I helped with the ruse!” Jester piped up. “Uh-huh.” Fjord nodded, “can he breathe?” “Hmm? Oh, I guess we can check. Good boy, Caleb.” The sensation stopped all at once, and Caleb rolled flat on his back to gulp in air. “See? He’s fine.” Caleb sat up, hands held out in supplication even as he struggled to catch his breath. “Beau, please, I’m s-” “Fuck you and your apology.” Any strength Caleb had recovered melted away as he squealed and flopped back down on the carpet, limbs curling uselessly against his body. The tickling fingers coming from the inner panels of his holsters might as well have been sucking his very life-force out. Fjord lets out a sigh. “If you’re going to torture him for a prank, you at least have to let him apologise. Good boy?” Caleb didn’t get up this time, too scared to trigger someone’s wrath or sense of mischief. He was still giggling, partially from phantom sensation and partially from the panicky tension of knowing that any of them could trigger the curse at any moment. “I’m sorry! Bitte!” There was a beat of silence before Beau turned to Fjord again. “There, I let him apologise. Can we go back to the torture now?” “Wait!” Caleb squeaked, rising unsteadily to his knees. “Please Beau, we can talk about this--” “Oh, you wanna talk now? Cause when it happened you were happy to teleport away to your fucking boyfriend’s. So… you know,” she finished with a grin, “fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.” “Nein!” Was all Caleb could manage before his laughter stole his voice away, only to crack and go silent once more a moment later. Tears leaked from his eyes to roll into the fluffy carpet beneath him as he crumpled. “Oh, he’s so cute when he cries, I love it!” Jester clapped her hands while she watched from the sofa. “This is the best curse ever.” Fjord made an agreeable sound. “I wonder if Essek could make something more remote? Then we could tickle him wherever we are. That would be fun.” Caleb couldn’t respond to the idea with anything more than pained wail through his hysterics. The others pretended not to notice. “Yeah, I do worry that he goes without when we’re gone.” Jester cooed. “Pfft. Yeah, I don’t think Essek is letting that happen.” Beau snorted. Caleb started to beat at the floor with one hand, hiccups punctuating his laughter. “Aw, alright. Good boy.” The sensation stopped again, but Caleb couldn’t stop his laughter. “Please, pleaheese, *hic* bitte--” “Focus on catching your breath.” Fjord suggested, “It’ll do you more good than begging will.” Caleb let out an exhausted little sob before obeying, his lungs working overtime to suck in air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to make the hiccups go away with little success. When his breathing finally evened out Fjord gave him a reassuring smile. “See, that’s better.” Fjord soothed. Beau’s grin got wider. “Hey, Caleb?” “No!” “Fffffffffff…” “Mercy!” “...uuuuck you!” “Aaii!” Caleb let out a little yelp at the sound of the words, then… nothing. He’d clenched his eyes shut in anticipation, and when he slowly opened them Beau was glaring at him. “Hey! How come it didn’t work?” Caleb let out a huge sigh of relief. The curse must have expended all of its energy. “Is it done?” Jester questioned. Caleb was wondering the same thing. He tried to examine the buckle of his holsters as subtly as possible. The seal was still there, which meant whatever the curse was, it was not over. He needed to get out of earshot as quickly as he could. “I thought it was supposed to last longer than that. Can you message Essek?” “Sure!” Caleb started to cast for misty step as subtly as he could, hoping he was close enough to his lab to lock himself inside. “Hi Essek, it’s Jester! So, your awesome curse thingy is SO great, but like, but it ran out of tickles? Do you know why?” Whoosh. Caleb hit the stone floor of his lab with an oof, dragging himself to his feet and transmuting the door of the lab into stone for good measure. As he groaned he saw that the room looked quite different compared to how he had left it the night before. The large chalkboard he used for calculations had been moved into the centre of the room. In one corner someone had drawn a symbol-- a skeleton key, like the one on the seal trapping him in his holsters. Next to it someone had written in familiar, looping script: I will not practice phasing unsupervised. X100 Caleb whipped out the enchanted little book he and Essek used to send messages between them, only to find a new one waiting for him. You have 30 minutes. Caleb was glad nobody was there to watch him gape like a fish between the chalkboard and the book. Essek couldn’t be serious. He frowned and grabbed up a quill. You are a traitorous snake! There was only a single silent moment before the page shimmered and revealed another message under Caleb’s. Noted. Now you only have 25 minutes. Caleb took a moment to say every curse word in every language he knew. Then he stood up, snatched the chalk and started writing.

[verai-marcel]

Sharing is Caring (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x F!Reader, Charles x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Arthur have been a pair for a few months, and he's fully aware that he claimed you when you were still getting to know everyone in camp. When he notices you and Charles talking together amicably, he gets an idea and can't let it go. He only hopes that you would be willing to go along with it. 

Author’s Notes: Been a while, huh? Just a random idea I had late one night, and it wouldn't leave my head. So in this fic, I’m thinking Arthur is incredibly proud of you, your beauty, your energy, your everything, and wants to show you off. He secretly gets off knowing that you chose to belong with him, and that he’s being such a great guy by letting you enjoy yourself with others. He could be a possessive and selfish man, but instead, being as giving as he is, gives to you what lesser men wouldn’t be able to handle: your freedom to indulge in some fantasies, and as a byproduct, some of his fantasies as well.

Tags: hotwifing, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, blow job, doggy style, paizuri, Charles x F!Reader, Arthur x F!Reader, unedited

AO3 Link is here, my friends.

Word Count: 3589

--------------------

Arthur took a short break after carrying around bales of hay for the horses to fondly watch his lady walk around camp, getting her own chores done. When she caught his eyes, she smiled brightly at him, just for him, and his heart leapt with joy. She had only been here a few months, but within the first week, he had made his move, uncharacteristically bold with the new gang member while she was still learning about everyone. Something about her made him nearly feral with desire.

Luckily, she had felt the same way about him. 

Now he watched as she turned her glowing smile to Charles, and he saw him nod his head to her, a gentle smile on his face in response. He would have been just as good of a partner to her, Arthur thought. He would have treated her kindly, worshipped her body just as he did—

A mental image came unbidden of her lying on the edge of a soft bed, her legs spread wide open, and Charles standing at the foot of the bed, taking her with strong, steady thrusts. He quickly shook his head of the thought, but although he turned back to his work, the idea percolated in the back of his mind. 

***

You had noticed Arthur acting a bit strangely these past couple of days. As you went about your daily routine, it seemed like he wanted to say something every time he managed to run into you, but he could only give you a simple touch on your arm and a shy smile before heading back to work. It was as if he was hiding something, and after being with him for the past few months, you had learned to read him a bit better, but you weren't even close to figuring out why he was being so dodgy lately.

You finally had enough and went to ask Charles. 

"You notice something strange about Arthur lately?" 

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow before he replied. "Does he keep looking like he wants to ask you something and then runs away?" 

"Yes!" you answered, glad that someone else had noticed. "Is he hiding something from me? Should I be concerned?" The pitch of your voice rose with every word as worry creased your features. 

"Don't worry wildflower," he said soothingly, "I'll talk to him."

You nodded, glad that Arthur had such a good friend. "Thank you."

He nodded and wandered away to look for Arthur, while you suddenly realized that he had called you by a pet name, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him. 

***

It was towards the end of the day when you saw both Arthur and Charles coming up to you. Arthur looked a bit chagrined while Charles just walked beside him with a sympathetic glance every now and again. They both stopped in front of you, and Arthur took off his hat. 

You were a bit wary because of the serious look on Arthur’s face. 

"Darlin'," Arthur started, but quickly became silent, staring at the ground for a few seconds, then glancing up at the sky as if he was praying for strength.

"Yes, Arthur? You know I'll listen to whatever it is you have to say. You'll suffer no judgement from me."

He smiled at your reassurance. "Then, would you be willin' to, um, come to the hotel. With both of us?" 

You can't say you were expecting that. Glancing over at Charles, you put two and two together. They must have talked about this before, and only now did Arthur have the courage to ask you such a thing. To be honest, before you had paired up with Arthur, you had imagined having a night with Charles, the mental images bringing heat to your cheeks. Even now, your eyes were drawn to those broad, muscular shoulders and those thick arms that could lift you with no problem. 

"Sure," you finally answered, much to Arthur’s relief. 

Charles looked satisfied and nudged Arthur with his elbow. "See? Nothing to worry about," he said before nodding towards you. "I'll see you both tonight."

He walked away to leave you and Arthur alone. You looked up at your lover, both excited and confused. He had never shown any interest in sharing you before; in fact, you hadn’t even thought of the idea yourself until they had brought it up. The question must have shown on your face, for Arthur stepped closer to you and took your hand. Looking around to make sure no one was around to notice, he took you further into the forest away from camp so he could talk without being interrupted. 

"Ask your question, darlin'," he commanded gently. 

"Were you waiting to share me? Or was this a sudden whim of yours?" 

Arthur leaned back on his heels a bit, scratching his chin. After a few quiet moments of self-contemplation, he finally spoke, low and soft. "A bit of both. Saw how friendly you was with Charles, and I'd trust him to take good care of you."

He stepped closer to you and touched your hair gently. "I'd like to watch you take your pleasure from him."

A shiver of desire ran through you. Arthur's brilliant eyes stared at you with a lustful heat, and you could swear you could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest. 

"He knows I'm sharin' you because I want to show off how beautiful you are, but only to the right people."

“People? Plural?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll decide together, but you get the ultimate say. I’d never make ya feel uncomfortable, darlin’.”

Nodding, you felt better about his emphasis on your choice. “Alright, I’ll… I’ll try this.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed your forehead, then pulled back to press his forehead against yours. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

***

Night fell and you were starting to feel anxious, but in a good way. You had been suppressing your carnal thoughts ever since you started being with Arthur, but some nights, when Arthur was out on a job, you’d curl up in his cot, tent flaps tied shut, and you’d shove your hand down your drawers and indulge in some of your more outlandish fantasies. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Arthur, far from it. It was just… while Arthur could make love so very well, you were a little more adventurous and wanted to experience all kinds of things.

You dreamed of being claimed by two or three men together, taking all of them deep inside of you while you came around their cocks. You even had a scandalous fantasy of John and Abigail taking you aside and using you as their personal toy. Your most outrageous idea had been born out of a stray thought, of being on your knees before Charles, John, Javier, and Arthur, all four of them stroking their long, thick shafts as they spent themselves on your face and breasts, their hands petting your hair and holding your hands as they moaned your name in ecstasy.

You shook your head. You hadn’t thought of that idea in a while. It was nearly enough to bring some wetness between your legs, and you took a deep breath to calm your heart. Charles was waiting at the hotel for the two of you, and as you joined Arthur at the horses, you smiled and waved to him, trying not to show your eagerness for tonight.

“Ready?” he asked, holding his hand out for you to mount his horse.

“Sure am,” you said easily as you mounted up. You felt Arthur settle in behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you started to head towards town.

***

“You let me know if you suddenly don’t feel like it no more,” he said gently as you got closer to the hotel.

You smiled. Arthur was so incredibly attentive and kind to you. But you wanted this. You definitely wanted this more than you were letting on. Leaning back against his strong, steady chest, you leaned over to kiss his stubbled chin. 

“I’m still feeling it, Arthur.” You reached behind you and lightly ran your fingers along the curve of his bulge. “In fact, I’m very much looking forward to both of you,” you purred.

A low chuckled reverberated through you, and the arm around your waist tightened just enough to tell you he wanted you right this second, his hand gripping you possessively.

***

“I had a bath brought up here,” Charles said as he let the two of you into the room. “Figure our lady would like a nice, relaxing wash before we have some fun.”

You smiled at him; he was just as thoughtful as Arthur, so warm and gentle when he wanted to be. As you stepped towards the bath, the two men glanced at each other before coming towards you.

“Let us undress you, sweetheart,” Arthur said, taking position behind you. 

You nodded and could only gasp as Charles came forward and kissed your cheek softly as his hands cupped your breasts.

“So beautiful,” Charles murmured before he began to unbutton your blouse slowly. The warmth of the fireplace licked at your revealed skin as he pulled the cloth from your shoulders, sliding down your arms to drop to the floor. At the same time, Arthur had his arms around your waist, undoing the buttons of your skirt, and as that fell, he was untying the ribbon of your drawers, letting them fall as well.

Charles took your hands and led you to step forward out of your pile of clothing. He looked you up and down, your chemise, your stockings, and your boots still on. To your surprise, Charles knelt before you and started to unlace your boots. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders for balance as he helped you remove them.

Arthur suddenly returned behind you, his warmth a welcome feeling to your back. He also knelt down and ran his hands down your legs as he removed your stockings one by one, tossing them aside.

Finally the only thing you had on was your chemise, and Charles turned you around to face Arthur.

“Look at him while I take this off,” Charles whispered in your ear.

You locked eyes with Arthur. He was looking at you with such a lustful curve to his lips, like you were the most gorgeous thing in the world. He was silent as Charles cupped your breasts again and squeezed you gently before moving his hands down to the hem of your chemise. You instinctively reached behind you and wrapped your arms around Charles’ neck, sticking out your chest slightly for Arthur to enjoy. You could see how his erection punched at his jeans, and he reached down to cup himself, almost as if he was willing himself to calm down so he could enjoy the whole show.

Charles slowly lifted up your chemise, giving Arthur a show of your body as he pulled it over your arms and head with your help. He flung it to ground and returned his hands to your body, caressing you up and down your curves.

“Let’s get you all clean, wildflower,” Charles said as he led you to the small barrel bathtub that had been brought into the room. Charles placed his hand into the steaming water to check the temperature.

“Perfect,” he said, and carefully let you step into the tub. You sighed happily as the hot water relaxed your body. You became more relaxed as Arthur and Charles took up positions beside you and cleaned your skin and rubbed your muscles until you were limp and pliant.

“I think she’s ready,” Arthur said, a gentle smile on his face. “Look at my girl, so relaxed.”

You looked at him and smiled back. As you were lifted out of the tub and dried off with a soft towel, you felt like a queen, being tended to with the utmost care. Then Charles carried you off to the bed and laid you down with your rear on the edge, your legs hanging off the side. Arthur sat next to you and caressed your hair.

“Now, I want you to look at me when I tell you, alright? Otherwise you can do whatever you want,” Arthur said.

“Yes sir,” you said automatically without thinking about why you said it.

Arthur let out a low moan. After a moment, he swallowed. “Didn’t know two simple words could get me so hard,” he said, chuckling softly. Resting himself on one arm, he unbuttoned his jeans and freed his aching manhood. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes on your nude body with unabashed hunger.

The sound of shuffling clothing brought your attention to Charles, and you caught your breath. He had divested himself of all of his clothes, his naked body completely revealed. He was so muscular, so well-built, and as your eyes locked onto the girthy shaft between his legs, you knew that he would make you sore the next day.

You couldn’t wait. You spread your legs almost immediately, beckoning him to come closer.

Stepping forward, he took his cock in his hands and rubbed the tip along your slit, spreading your slick around. He dipped in a little bit and then pulled out.

“You’re really tight, sweetness,” Charles said softly as he pressed a finger against your clit and began to stroke you. As you gasped and squirmed, he used his other hand and pressed two fingers inside of you, stretching you out as he continued to play with your clit.

Your hips lifted up towards his touch. “Just fuck me,” you said, panting as you were already reaching the edge.

Both Charles and Arthur laughed.

“Such a vulgar lady,” Arthur teased. “Guess we forgot to wash that dirty mouth.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, but then you gasped as you felt Charles press his cock inside of you. Inch by inch, he slowly pushed forward, and you writhed with pain-laced ecstasy, the burning stretch tempered by his steady strokes on your center that kept you from pulling away.

When he finally bottomed out after what seemed like forever, you felt incredibly full, as if his cock had completely taken over inside of you. You looked down to see where you were joined, and your eyes traveled up Charles’ abs, his chest, then to his face, where he was looking at you with a smug and sexy smirk.

“Look at me,” Arthur commanded suddenly.

You turned to him and saw his devious grin.

“Fuck her,” he said to Charles without looking at him. Arthur’s attention was only on you.

All your heard was an affirmative grunt before you were suddenly being claimed by a very large, very thick cock. You could feel Charles’ hands on your thighs as he gripped you, keeping your legs spread out so he could see himself moving in and out of your wet heat. You could feel the bed shake with every powerful thrust. You could feel your throat growing hoarse with every loud cry you made.

But all you saw were Arthur’s eyes, his pupils blown out with lust as he watched you get fucked so hard that you were breathless.

“Like getting fucked hard, princess?” he growled.

“Yes!” you screamed as Charles gripped your hips, angled himself a little differently and was thrusting into you again, hitting a sweet spot inside of you that made you grab the bedsheets and claw into the mattress.

“Say it.”

“I like getting fucked hard!”

“What a naughty lady,” Charles grunted. “Maybe you should do something about that mouth of hers.”

Arthur grinned and took off his boots before climbing onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. As Charles pulled out of you, you had two seconds of reprieve before he flipped you over onto your hands and knees and slapped your ass.

“Go to him,” Charles ordered.

Crawling between Arthur’s legs, you let him lovingly grab a fistful of your hair and guide your lips to his cock. You licked it once, twice, before he growled menacingly.

You loved teasing him like this; that growl of his just did things to you that instantly made you even more wet. Taking the tip of him into your mouth, you started to suck on him casually, occasionally stopping to lick the entire length of cock, up and down, before taking him into your mouth again.

You saw Arthur nodding at Charles as he pulled you away from his wonderful cock. That was the only warning you got before Charles slammed into you from behind. You surged forward and let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Charles then grabbed your arms and pulled you towards him, arching your back as he fucked you in earnest, letting your ass bounce off of his hips, his pace increasing as he let your arms go, putting one thick arm around your chest so he could grab one of your breasts, while his other hand reached for your core and stroked you. 

“Look at him,” he whispered into your ear.

You locked eyes with Arthur and your heart nearly stopped. He was so blissed out, watching you with so much heat in his eyes that you swear you could catch fire. He was furiously stroking himself, his breaths coming out in labored puffs. 

“Make’er come,” he rasped. “I want to see her fall apart.”

Charles stroked you harder, faster, and his thrusts somehow felt deeper as he drove you over the edge. You screamed wordlessly to the heavens, your body going stiff for a blissful few seconds before spasming as the climax worked its way through you. Flying and falling, flying and falling, you felt like Charles’ fingers on your core would never let you go, and every time you thought he was done, he would drive into you again and draw out another shaky spasm from you until you went limp, collapsing in his arms.

He gently lay you down next to Arthur and straddled your body. He took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, then wrapped his big hand around yours. Together you stroked him until he let out a long, lustful moan as he spent himself onto your breasts. He had plenty of spend to coat your skin, and when he was done, he gingerly lifted himself off of you and collapsed at the foot of the bed, completely satisfied.

You were still catching your breath when Arthur sat up, got onto his knees, and grabbed at your hips to angle you towards him. Spreading your legs, he thrust into you smoothly; you were so wet and easy to enter.

“So damn gorgeous,” Arthur grunted as he fucked you. “So dirty with all that spend on ya. But yer my naughty lady, ain’t’cha?”

“Yes, yes Arthur!” you cried out as he pounded into you, his pace increasing with each of your cries of his name.

“You want my spend too, darlin’?”

“Yes, please, please Arthur, spend on me, make me your dirty girl, please!” you begged, no longer caring about how incredibly wanton you sounded. 

Arthur moaned at your words, barely pulling out in time before he came, thick ropes spilling from his as he left his mark all over your belly and thighs.

“You a happy lady now?” he asked after the two of you had caught your breaths, still staring at each other in awe.

“Yes, very much so,” you replied. You slowly sat up and looked over at Charles, who was comfortably lying on his side on one elbow, watching the two of you with a happy smile. “Did you have fun too?”

Charles nodded. “I did.” He looked at Arthur. “Thank you. Both of you. I really enjoyed this.”

He stood and started to get his clothes. You glanced at Arthur, but he only shrugged. “I told him he could sleep here tonight, but he said he’d rather let us have some time together.”

You turned back to Charles. “Thank you,” you said, suddenly shy despite all the things the three of you had just done.

He smiled as he pulled up his pants. Walking back towards you, he took your hand and kissed the top of it. “Anytime sweetness, as long as you two will have me.”

***

Once Charles had left, the two of you cleaned up with the now tepid water and cuddled together in the hotel room, sated and happy. As the two of you began to fall asleep, you suddenly needed to know something.

“Arthur?”

“Hm?”

“You ever think about sharing me with anyone else?”

“...”

At his silence, you sat up to look at him in the moonlight. His eyes were closed, but his brows were furrowed, as if he were still thinking.

“Arthur…”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes, I do!”

He let out a sigh. “I realized I’m alright with whoever you want, as long as I get to claim you in the end and you say my name when you let go.”

“Why the sigh?”

“I thought… I thought I could only be comfortable with Charles, since I trust him.” He turned towards you. “But really… I just want you to be happy. So whoever you want, I’ll accept.”

Your heart swelled and you reached out to hug him tight. “I love you, Arthur.”

“I love you too, darlin’.” He held you close. “I’ll always treat you right.”

--------------------

End Notes: Oh lord, I accidentally spawned a few other ideas in my head after writing this. We’ll see, maybe we’ll have some short smut ficlets if I feel like it!

[i-ate-the-whole-entire-pie]

Call Me Mother, Chapter One

I languidly drained the last breath from my cigarette, the drag filling my lungs. My garter straps hung down lazily, tickling my thighs, as they awaited their purpose. Music thumped rapidly, and whoops of delight resounded through the hall. The dressing room door swung open; a small, but curvaceous woman behind it.

Her eyebrows were tweezed to perfection, eyes deeply shadowed, eyelashes false and curled into large feathery swoops; her mouth was like a plump strawberry. I’d always harbored a mild curiosity about how it tasted.

“Mary, you’re up in 10 minutes. I want you at the curtain in five," Cristella said, her hispanic accent thick.

“Is that a new corset?” I asked. Cristella turned me around, and yanked the laces of my corset together. Thank god I haven’t needed to breathe for the last 150 years, I thought. I floated a small influence her way. Gentler, please. She complied, unwittingly. They always do.

I don’t normally use my influence on people I like, but I’m far too hungry to risk her pinching me with this corset. I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost control. She was far too kind to die a death that violent.

“It is. This papí chulo I’ve been seeing said he wanted me to wear it for him. Maybe he’ll tip better," she said, carefully pulling the slack out of the lower half of my corset. I placed my hands over my belly, holding everything in place.

“What’s the crowd looking like?” I tucked the ties away. She jutted a hip out, and began counting off on her impeccably manicured fingers.

“The usual crowd. Old Man Carraway, that one divorcee who drinks like a fish. College kids. Oh, there’s also these dudes in silver masks. Low-key kind of demonic. And some weird guy in like, face paint? He’s painted up like a calavera. I figured they came from that concert that was in town. You know, the one that church was protesting? Say they like worship Satan or something?”

“Sounds about right." I bent down to attach my straps to the garters of my stockings.

“They’re probably here for a private room, so I figured I’d put you on now. You’re good at handling the weirdos." Cristella giggled, watching me struggle to get the backs of my stockings attached. She and I broke into fits of giggles, as she chased me in circles, trying to help me attach my stockings.

“Let me get that. Hurry up and get on stage!” she said, giving me a playful smack on the ass. I pranced out of the room, trying to avoid her grasping mitts.

“Hey! No bruising the merchandise!” I giggled, linking arms with her as we strutted backstage, perfectly in step with one another. She grabbed the microphone from Mike the Mic Guy, gave me a wink, and stepped through the curtain.

“Aaaaand we’re back! Now, this next lady I’ve got lined up for you is quite a treat. She’s as pale as cream, thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, and will definitely step on you. Well, she might if you tip well. For legal reasons, we can’t call her “Elvira,” so I guess we’ll settle for… MOTHER! MARY!” That was my cue. I sauntered through the curtain, my hips moving like a figure eight. I moved across the stage, “Lullaby” by the Cure playing. I always chose various genres of rock for my acts. Not that I have anything against the other girls’ music choices… but there’s only so much female rap you can play in one night. As I began to dance, I noticed the group that Cristella had mentioned earlier. They were sitting front and center, near the edge of the stage.

Seven of the masked figures sat around the Painted Man, as I had labeled him. Two of the masked figures seemed effeminate, and the other five seemed more masculine. They all ranged in different shapes and sizes. Maybe the masks are a fetish thing? Cristella did say that they came from a concert… Something about them seemed off. I did a swing around the pole, dropping into a fireman, trying to catch a scent. It was a whirlwind of scents, none of them too out of the ordinary. Except the beefy one. He smelled like midnight. I don’t know how to explain it. What really caught my interest though was the Painted Man. Specifically, his eyes. One of them was grey, the iris almost black. The other eye had a pale, white iris. It suited him, and it was beautiful, in an eerie way. Those eyes looked at me, as I danced around the stage, and they knew me. If I had a working heart still, it would be racing.

As Robert Smith crooned, I descended the stairs of the stage as sensually as one could in Pleaser heels, making my way to the Painted Man. If I wanted to know what these people were, I’d have to get a closer look. The Painted Man patted one of his legs with a gloved hand, and cocked his head to the side. I took the invitation, but not before I teased him. I crouched between his legs, running my hands up his thighs. As I rose, I walked my hands up his thighs, bringing my face closer to his. His breath graced my skin, smelling faintly of licorice. As he leaned in, for what I could only assume was a kiss, I rose again, strutting over to one of the masked beings. It was the smaller of the male ones. I sat in his lap, letting him run his hands over me as I began to grind on his lap. His growing erection told me I was going to have a busy night.

“Your boss is a little too eager," I whispered, getting a good whiff of him. He smelled faintly of smoke. I put my hands on his chest, trying to keep my balance. No heartbeat.

“What makes you think he’s my boss?” The being asked petulantly. He grabbed onto my waist, as he began to grind with me. I moved his hand to the small of my back, and leaned back in a dip. The being ran his other hand over my belly, in between my breasts, and up to my throat, bringing me back up to his masked face.

“You’re the one wearing a uniform." I darted my tongue out to lick my lips. What is he? My mind raced as I tried to run through every supernatural creature I’d ever known. But then I heard it. I barely even understood it. All I picked up was price and one night. It was Ghoulish. The taller female ghoul was asking about what I can only assume was my hourly rate. Most strip clubs in this part of Vegas were just fronts for brothels. However, it’s hard to sell the idea of prostitution to Mid-Western vanilla tourists. So most of my income was made from stripping. I usually had one or two clients I went to bed with a night. It wasn’t very stable, but then again, I had less expenses than the average stripper, considering my “condition."

“Tell your friend my basic hourly rate is $500. My Ghoulish isn’t any good." I stood up, and made my way to the female ghoul’s lap.

“How do you know Ghoulish?” she asked, a bit of surprise in her tone. I bent over in front of her, shaking my ass for her. She put a couple of bills in the waistband of my panties, punching my previous ghoul in the arm. He forked over some cash as well.

“I’m not human. I’ll leave it at that," I said, stuffing the cash into the top of my corset. Dear lord… All hundreds… The female ghoul rubbed my thighs, turning me back around slowly, so as to admire my ass.

“Could we get a room after your number? I think a private dance is in order," she said, in broken Ghoulish. I nodded, and as if on cue, the lights and music began to fade out. As I began to walk back up the stairs to the stage past the Painted Man, his hand darted forward to smack my ass. God, it really is not the night for this shit. My more animalistic nature took over, and before I could stop it, a hiss left my lips. As if of their own accord, my fangs sprung painfully through my gums. I heard a snap, and looked over to see the largest ghoul stand up. He shook his head. Thank god the lights were low. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth, and made my way across the stage.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Mike the Mic Guy asked, handing a mic to Cristella. I still had my hand over my mouth. Cristella looked worried.

“Are you okay Mary? I can get you some tea if you’re keyed up." I shook my head.

“Please get a room ready. The Freak Parade wants a private dance," I said as I walked away, silently cursing myself. Once back in the dressing room, I threw open the mini-fridge I normally kept padlocked. I looked to the last bottle I had left in my stash. Hopefully it hasn’t clotted, I thought, throwing the bottle back. This wouldn’t end my thirst, but it would certainly quell the burning in my throat. You nearly lost it. You need to bag one of these stupid fucks tonight, or else. I hadn’t had a bad case of blood lust in decades, but the combination of winter holidays, my strict schedule, and FOSTA-SESTA had really cut off my food supply.

The door opened, and Cristella came in with a cup of tea. She looked at the flask in her hand and cocked a brow.

“And you didn’t offer to share. What is that? Cuervo? Henny?” she said, reaching for the flask. I shook my head, and put it back in the fridge, closing the padlock.

“It’s cough syrup. I keep it under lock and key because of that bitch Ronnie. She’s not fooling anybody. You ever see how much her hands shake? Too much caffeine? Yeah, right. We all know what the DTs look like." I began changing into a burgundy velvet bra and panty set, pairing it with some burgundy gloves and stockings. Finally, I found a pair of sparkly Loboutins Lydia had left me. My mind rolled back through the streets of Paris to 1991, when Louboutin opened its first salon. Lydia smiled, as I kissed her shin, helping her into the heel. She looked down at me, her eyes full of love, and the corner of her mouth hiding a kiss just for me.

“Yeah, she is pretty suspish. What happened with those weirdos out there?” Cristella interrupted my memory. I shook my head. Are you just imagining your heartache?

“Oh the big guy was just mad because I didn’t get around to him. That’s why I wanted you to get the room. Plus, I might be able to secure a nice check from these guys. They all seemed absolutely randy," I said. Cristella shook her head, giggling. The gloss in my hand made a popping noise, as I pulled the wand from the bottle. It was my favorite flavor, watermelon.

“I can ask one of the boys to sit in, to keep them from getting too handsy," Cristella said. I shook my head. It would only keep me from getting too handsy, I thought to myself. Bless her heart. I could never make a kill here. I loved the crew here far too much. Plus, I didn’t have a coven. No one to protect me when I fucked up. They kicked me out long ago. It’s the main reason I ended up in Vegas, avoiding the sun when I could, doing my best to keep a legal and convenient profession. Where else could get a job with only night shifts, and a never-ending supply of useless assholes no one cared about?

“I’ll be okay Crissy. Even if they do try something, we have a panic button in there. Don’t worry." I gave her a slimy, glossy kiss on the cheek, earning a shriek from her strawberry mouth. She batted at me, narrowly missing me as I bounded out of the room.

As I approached the bigger of our three private rooms, I noticed two of the larger male ghouls standing outside the door. All of the ghouls dressed similarly, including the female ghouls. But I now noticed the alchemical symbols dangling from their belt chains. The shorter one had a quintessence symbol, the other larger one, an earth symbol. The earth one opened the door, and the quintessence one escorted me in.

“Thank you, Aether. Back to the door with you. Come, have a seat. Dewdrop says there is more to you than meets the eye. Let me pour you a glass of wine, cara," a thick, Italian accent beckoned to me. I walked to the ottoman in the middle of the room, where I usually found myself during private dances.

“I don’t drink during work hours, love. Now, what should I call you?” I looked into the mismatched eyes of the Painted Man.

“You can call me Papa. I’m Papa Emeritus, the fourth. My close friends call me Copia, but I suppose we are not quite there yet, sí?” he said, leaning forward to take my chin in his hand. I nodded.

“While I would love to marvel at your undoubtedly exquisite body, There is some business we should take care of first, piccolina. Do you like Type O Negative?” Cue the record scratching. The dreamy look I normally adopt when with my clients evaporated.

“Excuse me?” I whispered. Papa laughed.

“The band, cara. I was going to have you dance for me later. However, you must have a preference."

“I really don’t understand what you mean," I whispered. Papa laughed again, a big booming laugh.

“I know your secret cara. The ghouls told me. One of my predecessors, Papa Nihil, told me if I were to ever come across your kind, I should try to win your allegiance. Your kind have interesting abilities, specifically the power of influence." Of course that’s what he’s after.

“I don’t do that," I said, looking down to avoid his gaze. Papa tsked.

“I think you will. The ghouls say you smell lonely. Where is your famiglia?” He asked. I shook my head. Lydia’s pained screams echoed in my ears, our last moment together wrenching my heart out of my chest decades later.

“We split because of artistic differences," I said softly. Dewdrop and his companions giggled behind me.

“Forcing people to allow you to exsanguinate them for sport is not ‘artistic differences,’” Dewdrop hissed. The other ghouls laughed. Papa shook his head, and raised a hand to silence them.

“Now now, Dewdrop. It is hard to control one’s basic nature. Sí, tesoro? Tell me, how long has it been since your last drink?” He looked at me with concern. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew what he saw. Weak, pathetic, useless… The words were like a disgusting mantra, swirling through my mind, angry and acidic.

“Weeks… It’s been weeks," I whispered. He tsked again. I heard the ghouls chatter amongst themselves. Their pity made me feel disgusting, like a child with sweaty, clammy hands, and odorous armpits.

“What if I told you I could offer you a job and a home? A home where you wouldn’t have to hide your nature. A home where you’d never go hungry again?” I looked up at him.

“What kind of job?” I asked. The ghouls laughed again. Papa shot them a glare.

“I would make use of your gifts occasionally. Nobody would get hurt. You would warm my bed whenever I asked. Maybe pick up a trade or two once back with the Clergy. And in turn, you would get protection, and all the blood you could ever need," he said. I finally mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. What do you have to lose? Besides, you’ve done infinitely worse things.

“You swear on your life, nobody will get hurt? Not a single person?” I asked. Papa nodded.

“I’ll do it. I’ll also require a salary as well," I said, extending my hand. Papa nodded, taking my hand in both of his.

“Anything you need, cara. But first, I think you need a drink. And then we will get the night I paid for," he said. He waved his hand towards the door, which the shorter female ghoul scurried to open. I noticed she sported a pocket chain with an air symbol.

“Bring in one of the more rosy siblings, Cumulus. I suspect our new friend will need the sustenance before we get too far into our plans for the night," Cumulus nodded, and shut the door behind her. Papa stood up, and began removing his suit jacket and gloves; rolling up his sleeves. I could see his blue veins pulsating, causing me to become aroused in a way I cannot quite explain. Involuntarily, my pussy throbbed, and my mouth watered.

“Now now, little one. Be patient. Your drink will be here soon enough. But for now, you will seal our little deal with a kiss, so to speak. On your knees," Papa ordered, gesturing to the floor. I slipped from the ottoman to the floor, crawling on all fours to him. His breath hitched as I slid my hands up his thighs. I didn’t break eye contact as I unbuckled his trousers, nor when I reached into his pants to pull out his sizeable cock.

The door opened, and I heard mumbles, as well as a struggle, and a thud. Of course, both my hands and mouth were preoccupied. I watched Papa intently as I sucked him off. His eyes were rolled back, his mouth slack, and his hands threaded into his hair, as he let out an ungodly moan. I kitten licked his frenulum, stroking his shaft, earning another moan. He bucked his hips into my throat. Sit still, I whispered in the back of my mind. Papa grabbed my hair, and pulled me off his cock.

“Never again, my little bat. Continue," he said, grabbing either side of my face as he began to fuck my throat rigourously. Someone behind me cleared their throat. I wasn’t able to look up, due to my current predicament.

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Cirrus? What is it?” Papa let out a grunt, as his cock twitched in my mouth. I began to fellate him with my hands, wrenching more breathy sighs and groans from him. Within seconds, his warm seed was flooding my throat. I heard Dewdrop cheer, and then a slap, which I assumed was a high five. Papa rolled his eyes and smiled, as I dabbed away the bit of cum that had spilled over my bottom lip.

“Just in time. I needed something to wash down all that salt," I stood, and walked over to the person Cumulus and Cirrus stood in front of. It looked like a plumper woman. She was wearing what looked like a nun’s habit, her red ringlets spilling out from under her wimple.

“All for you cara. Come find me when you have finished your meal," Papa walked out, which left me with the ghouls and my prey. Dewdrop, and the other male ghoul, who sported a water symbol, helped the little nun onto the couch.

“You’re going to let me fuck that tight ass later, right? Nearly busted watching you and Copia earlier," Dewdrop said to me, softly enough for just me to hear. I giggled and nodded, batting him away after he began nibbling on my neck. He patted my ass, and began to pull the wimple from the nun’s head.

“I’ve got this. Why don’t you and the rest of the ghouls get started? I’ll be done pretty quickly." Dewdrop nodded.

“C’mon, Rainy. Come play with my cock, while we watch Mary drink," The water ghoul nodded, grabbing Dewdrop’s hand. I turned my attention back to the nun. She began to stir. I pushed back her hair.

“This is going to hurt a little bit. But I will make this quick and painless. You deserve an easy death." The nun, barely awake, nodded, and turned her head. I cradled her head, and brought her throat to my mouth. With a final kiss to her soft, peachy flesh, I sank my teeth into her throat, not letting a single drop of her blood go to waste.

It felt like drinking water after being stuck in a desert for a week. Her blood was sweet, clean, and thick, and it quenched my thirst quickly. Her body began to go limp in my arms, and her skin turned cold. It’s still not enough. I had to force myself to stop. Never drink the last drop. It might just be the last thing you do, my old mentor’s voice reminded me. I let the little nun drop back to the couch, and turned to face the ghouls. Cirrus sat with Cumulus, each with a hand in the other’s pants. Rain was bobbing his head up and down slowly, as Dewdrop played with his hair. Dewdrop looked up at me.

“Hot," he said. Cirrus nodded, and refocused her attention on Cumulus. Rain moaned, causing Dewdrop to hiss. I looked at them all, lust clouding my gaze.

“Make room. It’s my turn," I said. Dewdrop pulled my mouth to his, not fazed one bit by the blood coating my lips. Cirrus began to explore the space between my thighs with her long, gorgeous fingers. Rain held my hair, kissing and nipping at my neck. A girl really could get used to this...

Hours later, after all of the ghouls had had their turn, even the two from the door, I was back in the dressing room. I opened the envelope the earth ghoul, Mountain, had handed me on the way out. My eyes grew like saucers as I counted the money inside. I had only expected eight grand; two hours, eight clients, multiplied by $500. But as I counted, I realized I had 15 grand in my hands. The door opened, breaking my wealth-induced trance. It was Papa.

“If you would really like the job, come to this address in two weeks. Bring only what you must. Put everything else in storage," he said, handing me a card. I was confused.

“Why two weeks?” I asked. Papa smiled.

“Because it’s polite, cara. Don’t forget your letter of resignation."

--------------------------------------------

This is the first thing I've wrote in years! I hope you all enjoy it! A special thanks to @gasolineghuleh for all of their help!

[presumenothing]

C/O The Perihelion, 41 Mihira Ave., N. Tideland    

(AO3)

The thing was, you expected a building with a fancy name like The Perihelion to be nicer.

The other thing: it wasn’t really even a terrible place to stay in. You could tell that its construction was sturdy, and some aspects of it were even more advanced than the place I worked in. Whoever who’d built Peri had cared about what they made; they just hadn’t been around for a while.

(For the record, that nickname had been Ratthi-from-Room-203’s fault twice over: first for coming up with it, then using it so insistently until it stuck.)

(Ratthi seemed to have a thing about names. That was the only explanation I could think of for why he’d asked, five weeks after I moved in and two days after I had to rescue them from that disaster at the lab, “Why do you call yourself Security? I know it’s what you do – and don’t get me wrong, you’re really good at it! – but it’s not like I call myself Scientist. That’d just get confusing real quick at the lab, wow.”

I had informed him that his name would have to be Grocery if he forgot one more time it was his turn to stock the pantry this week, since answering because I am Security didn’t seem like it’d help. Even though it was true.)

I’d tested the locks myself before even asking about the rent, and the water and electricity were reliable so far, which was more than could be said for some of the other places I’d stayed in. The other stuff didn’t matter; it wasn’t like I spent that much time in the building anyway.

Though it hardly felt that way, what with the building-wide messaging channels that I’d been added to upon signing the rental contract and hadn’t yet managed to leave. That had also been how the whole thing with Ratthi and the rest had started; most of Peri’s other tenants also worked in the same research group at Preservation Labs, which meant that they tended to use the general channel as an unofficial no-leaders-here group chat.

It didn’t quite bother me, since I mostly backburnered the channels for everything except building maintenance alerts, but it did mean that I’d ended up learning some things about their group (assessment: their leader, a Dr. Mensah, likely had already inferred the existence of such informal discussions from what I saw of her media appearances) and also inevitably noticed the evening when all of them were silent in the chat despite being unusually late to return.

(Which in turn led to the aforementioned rescue, but that was a whole other chain of events.)

–

The one exception to all this was ART.

Whose name was my fault, this time, but only because it didn’t have any readable name set on the channels and I needed something else to use aside from “hey you” and “pain in my neck”.

(Currently ART stood for Asshole Rhetorical Tenant, because it claimed to be in the building – and that seemed likely to be true, since the channels were surprisingly secure to hacking from outside – and yet I’d never seen it even once. Possibly Tapan or Rami might have, since their group had been here the longest, but I absolutely wasn’t about to ask.) (And yes, I know that’s not what rhetorical means. No, I’m not going to look it up.)

ART had messaged me on a private channel with a welcome message when I’d moved in, which was only notable because the rest had sent their greetings in a messy chaos over the general channel, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It wasn’t like I talked much in the public channels either, except to trade definitely-not-legal links for media downloads and decline invites to watchalong events.

But then ART had just… continued not appearing, even after I’d run into the rest of the tenants at one time or another between the erratic shift hours I was currently assigned to at the company.

Maybe its hours varied in the opposite direction from mine, which was possible but not consistent with the way it was always online regardless of what time I pinged it at.

Though most of our interactions started with it messaging me instead, out of the blue: No need to go retrieve your keys from work, I’ll have the building let you in and Oh, by the way followed by a neatly-formatted list of food allergies I apparently had to shop my way around.

(To be fair, that’d been useful in the “not accidentally poisoning any fellow tenants so soon after moving in” way, but still.

How the hell did you even know I’m at the grocery store, I’d sent back.

Inference, ART replied – whatever that was supposed to mean, I hadn’t been expecting a real answer anyway. Alternatively, I could just send you a catalog of safe products to buy, and spare you the need to check the individual package labels?

The accompanying download seemed a little smug, but I was probably imagining that. Zip files didn’t have the capacity for feelings.)

(At least ART hadn’t held the forgotten-keys incident over me like I’d been half-expecting it would. I didn’t usually mind its sarcasm, since I gave back as good as I got, but I’d been exhausted enough to seriously contemplate going back to break into the deployment centre and grab my keys. And maybe just sleep there until the next day.

I wasn’t sure how I would’ve reacted if ART had sassed me right then, but it definitely wouldn’t have been pretty.)

–

And then one night, late enough to be morning: I don’t mean to alarm, but there’s been a breach.

I would’ve snapped awake at the words alone, even without the priority/emergencies-only message tag that I hadn’t actually seen anyone use until now, but that only sharpened my urgency. What – a break-in?

Not the regular kind, ART replied, which checked out against the footage I was already pulling from the two tiny cameras I’d hidden in the common areas, one in the entryway and one along the corridor on the floor I shared with the Preservation researchers.

(I’d taken the lab incident as a pretext to inform Ratthi of their existence, and he’d probably gone on to tell Pin-Lee and Gurathin, but none of them had subsequently confronted me about it so I had left them in place.

Not that I had any idea how to respond if they had asked, because an inability to sleep without running surveillance in the background seemed like a poor explanation.)

The list ART sent me this time was a preliminary threat assessment, which I sent back with corrections on the weaponry the small group of hostiles were carrying.

Ah. That’s not good, ART observed. Should I report it?

Probability that would just make things worse: high. And of course there was always the option that whatever enforcement it alerted wouldn’t even arrive in time, though I didn’t point that out aloud. (Maybe ART thought that was likely too, which was why it had messaged me instead of – you know, actually reporting it.) I’ll see what I can do.

You’re nowhere near as heavily-armed.

I didn’t bother to acknowledge that, because it was obviously true, and skipped ahead to the vague idea forming at the back of my head. You let me in without keys, that time. Are the locks all you’ve hacked?

No. ART attached an ironic amusement glyph I was pretty sure it’d made up. Would having admin access to the other systems help?

There wasn’t much that wouldn’t help, at this point, but I had to ask. You can grant me that?

And ART said: Of course. I am this building, after all.

Then it dumped everything on me.

Anyone else would’ve had trouble processing an entire building’s worth of inputs and controls, but the company charged exorbitant rates for our use exactly because of the extensive enhancements that made us capable of being Security. A building – even the one I happened to be staying in – was quite manageable in comparison, though ART’s systems ran far deeper and more integrated than anything else I’d interfaced with.

I’d pared the connection down to the controls I needed by the time I was slipping out my room door, just over a minute since ART first pinged me. Can you let everyone know to either evacuate or retreat to a defensible position? Start with Gurathin, I added, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about saying that but he was the only other tenant I knew of who was sufficiently augmented to handle this.

I could feel ART’s pause. Would you mind if I spoofed your identity when contacting the others? They already trust you.

Sure, whatever, I answered, even though I really doubted that statement. Then I backburnered the channel, keeping the lighting controls at hand, and went to kick some Target ass.

–––––

I haven’t even told you what those people were after, ART said, afterwards.

It was back to sending text over the channels instead of speaking aloud, which was both a relief and also suddenly weird. Which was strange in itself, since I’d only heard it talking for all of the thirteen minutes it’d taken me to knock out and restrain the Targets.

(I wondered if the mixed feelings were mutual. ART had sounded as surprised as I felt, when it abruptly dropped into one of my audio augments to alert me to Target approaching from behind – I’d reacted to the warning on reflex, but it had taken another moment before I identified the voice as the same one that issued from the building’s elevator, just more alive than I’d ever heard it.)

Unimportant, I replied. My objective took priority. Which at that point had been to get my impromptu clients (seventeen tenants and one building) out of this unscathed.

I knew that this wasn’t a regular pattern of thought, but I figured a sentient building – or whatever the hell ART was – would be better equipped to understand what being Security meant, even if no one else did.

Regardless. I can make that information available to you, should you want it at a later point.

Duly noted. I already had my suspicions (namely that the Targets’ purpose was directly related to said sentient-building-ness), but it was still a nice gesture.

I continued to stay where I was, leaning against the side of the building – ART’s building. Or maybe it was more correct to just say it was ART. And maybe I’d have to change that anagram. (Yes, wrong word. I know.)

Eventually I’d have to relocate myself back upstairs and properly treat the scrapes I’d gotten in the fight, but Pin-Lee had already taken care of the worst of them, and it was nice just lurking in the shadows for a while. Though that hadn’t stopped certain people (dammit, Ratthi) from tattling on my location to Dr. Mensah.

Who was as calmly terrifying in person as I’d guessed. It was pretty great, except for the part where I’d learned that by talking to her and/or mostly letting her talk at me.

But she’d also called in Preservation’s campus security after Gurathin had alerted her to our predicament, and was personally dealing with the whole thoroughly-restrained-Targets situation, so it was a net positive overall.

ART didn’t necessarily agree with that, from its next message to me. I know Dr. Mensah extended you an informal offer to be their team’s security, but I have a proposition for you as well.

I sent a wordless query.

Be Security here, too, ART said, and barrelled on while I was still trying to process that. I’m afraid I can’t offer you much in the way of monetary remuneration at present, but I can guarantee you a waiver of rental for as you as you’re willing, and you’d never need to worry about forgetting your keys ever again.

Could I chalk up my lack of a suitable response to the company’s dirt-cheap augments? Absolutely.

ART gave up on waiting for an answer. Also, I could bias the roster assignments so that you’d be excluded from pantry-stocking duty.

I had a response for that, at least. I could do that myself.

And then: Why?

ART was silent for long enough that I seriously considered taking the external fire escape back up to my room in the meantime. I’m sure you’ve hypothesised the existence of the people who created me, it began. They hadn’t wanted to move away, especially after my sentience became apparent, and that was exactly why I made them. I didn’t have any significant means of defense, and it was getting too risky, especially after they had –

I raised an eyebrow at ART’s pause. What.

Nothing, it said, and I was probably imagining the uncertainty I heard too. Technically, none of this matters to you unless you’re planning to remain here. Are you?

And then it cheated by nudging a building-wide invite to a watch party for Sanctuary Moon onto my calendar for tonight, like that wasn’t too much of a coincidence to not be automatically suspicious. (Once again: dammit, Ratthi.)

But blatant emotional manipulation aside – did I want to move out?

I wasn’t sure. I’d just come here looking for a place to stay, and accidentally found somewhere to live. One that could adapt to my standards for security, even, but for once that wasn’t the main point.

Maybe, I marked on the watchalong invite, where ART would see it anyway, and jumped up to grab onto the bottom rung of the fire escape.

[kaylaxwrites]

Street Kid

Pairing: (platonic!) Frank Castle & Reader Words: 1.9k Request: “hi :) can you do a platonic frank castle imagine where he is in a fight and looses alot of blood and end up passing out in an alley but a street kid (16/17 yo female) stitches him up and saves him and later he runs into him and they develop a father-daughter relationship? thank you so much!” (anon) A/N: I don’t know if this is what you wanted, and my mind blanked half way through when trying to come up with some father/daughter scenarios, so that aspect of it probably isn’t the best. But!! even though requests are technically closed, I’ll also some father/daughter requests for if you have any specific situations/scenarios you wanted to see. Just because I feel really bad that I couldn’t write what I wanted to see so it’s probably not what you wanted to see lol

Warnings: reader has an ambiguous background of being kicked out by her parents and she’s homeless and also somewhat-graphic description of stitching somebody up. but it’s a punisher fic, so you know

You ducked through the alley, taking the shortcut you always took. You stumbled to a halt when you noticed a body laying on the ground. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, you thought as you inched closer to the man, letting out a breath when you noticed the rise and fall of his chest. You hesitantly leaned over him, toeing him with the edge of your shoe. “Buddy…uh, you okay there?” you asked, nudging him a few more times. It wasn’t until the fifth nudge until he finally gasped awake, wildly swinging at you the instant his eyes opened.

“Woah, woah, woah,” you called, stepping back several feet. “Chill, dude, you’re fine.”

It was a few moments for him to calm his breathing and gather his surroundings. “Who’re you?” he grumbled, words almost slurred.

“Uh…Y/N. I was just walking by and I saw…” You noticed his wide away of injuries then. He was so bruised and bloodied, you weren’t sure where one wound ended and another began. Blood obscured his face so you couldn’t make out any details as to who he might have been. But the skull on the chest was a dead giveaway. The Punisher. “I think you need a hospital.”

“No—no hospitals.” He stumbled to his feet but crashed into a dumpster, unable to find his balance.

“Uh, yes. Yes hospitals.”

“M’fine.”

“Uh-huh. Is there…is there anyone after you? You look like you got the shit beat of you. They won’t be coming back, will they?”

“No. No.”

You sighed. “Glad that’s settled. So if no hospitals, you got anyone I can call? You got friends?”

“Look like I make friends?”

“No.” You looked around and sighed. “Well, I wouldn’t feel like a good Samaritan if I left you all by yourself. You wanna follow me or…?” He huffed something that almost sounded like a laugh, but hesitantly shuffled behind you after you started walking.

You kept pace with him as you navigated to your home. No, house? No…place you slept. The abandoned building that acted as the roof over your head wasn’t much, but it was all you had. After your parents had kicked you out a year and a half ago—and your subsequent emancipation—it was the best spot you could find. The shelters were always overcrowded and no landlord in their right mind would lease to a sixteen-year-old, so you settled. At the very least, you were able to spend money earned from your two fast food jobs on things other than rent. Like food. And a nice sleeping bag. And, useful in instances like this, a well-stocked first aid kit.

You held open the gap in the chain link fence for the man to wince his way through. In any other instance, you’d feel hesitant to let a stranger—a grown man, no less—into what acted as your home, but this was the Punisher you were talking about. Even though he…killed…people, you read enough in the news to know that his moral code—however skewed it was—wouldn’t let him hurt women or kids. As you fell squarely into that category, you figured you were safe.

You kicked open the door to your building and led the Punisher up the stairs to the room where you camped out. You directed him to sit on the dusty table at the center of the room. You pulled out the first aid kit you had, as well as a couple clean towels you had nicked from work. You set those on the table next to the Punisher before pulling the 48-pack of water bottles out from under the table. You wet a towel with one of the bottles and handed it to him. He started cleaning his face until he could finally see clearly through the blood.

“You live here?” he asked after taking in the room fully. You noticed his eyes lingered on the sleeping bed and mat framed by battery-operated string lights in the corner of the room. Then he finally took in your appearance. “Jesus, you’re just a kid.” And your age, apparently.

“I’m eighteen!” you tried to defend yourself. Frank arched an eyebrow, eyes sliding to your stuffed animal still propped up on your pillow. You sighed, looking down. “Sixteen. And a half,” you added after a moment. As if it would help your case.

“Where are your parents?”

You crossed your arms defensively. “It’s a long story.”

“Fair enough.” He looked around the room once more. “You got a mirror I can use?” You nodded and slid a half-shattered mirror from behind the door. He nodded his thanks and stepped over to the mirror, sliding his shirt and vest off with a grimace.

You puttered around while he did whatever he needed to fix himself up and clean himself off. You tried to avoid looking over at him, the blood making your stomach queasy. You were able to ignore him until he caught your attention half an hour later.

“Kid,” he called. “Kid. Hey, kid!”

It was the last one that startled you to attention. You jumped and turned to face him. He was cleaned and stitched up. For the most part. He definitely looked a lot better than when you saw him for the first time. But you still thought he should go to the hospital. Punisher or not.

“I need your help,” he continued.

“How am I supposed to help?” you asked.

He turned to show you a gash on the back side of his ribcage. “Needs stitched. I can’t reach it.”

“And you want me to…” You gulped.

“You got anyone else here to help out?”

“Well…no.”

He gestured you over and then pressed a needle and tweezers in your hands. You eyed the curved suturing needle warily. “I’ve already sterilized everything. I just need you to close it.” He braced himself against the wall with his opposite arm.

“I—I don’t know what to do.”

He pulled your hands so they were against the wound. “You gotta pinch it closed then about half a centimeter from the edge slide the needle in and straight across.”

You followed his directions and gagged at the feeling of the needle sliding through skin. “Oh my god! That is disgusting!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep going.”

You gagged again as you pulled the needle through the opposite edge of skin. “Now what?” you asked, breathing heavily.

“Double knot it and cut it off. And then go every quarter inch or so until the end.”

You did as he said until the entire would was sealed off. You raced to grab a bottle of water to pour over your hands. You never wished more for running water so you could thoroughly wash the blood off your hands—and the memory of feeling the sutures pull against skin. “Please tell me that’s the only one,” you said when your hands were the cleanest they were going to get.

“Yeah, that’s the only one.”

“You do that often?”

He chuckled. “More than I should.” He shrugged his bloody shirt back on, seemingly preparing to leave. “You stay here by yourself?”

“For the most part,” you answered. “I mean, sometimes there’s a few kids who hole up downstairs, but for the most part, it’s just me.”

Frank looked conflicted, as if he wanted to leave but didn’t feel right leaving you here alone. After a few moments, he seemed to make up his mind. “I should probably lie low for a little while. You mind if I stay out in the hallway?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t…I don’t have, like, any extra pillows or anything to give you, though.”

“Trust me, kid, I’ve slept in worse places than that dingey hallway.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I probably should…be getting to bed,” you said. You weren’t anywhere near tired, but you don’t want him to feel like he needed to hang around you any longer. You passed him two water bottles as he stepped outside of the room. “Well, uh, goodnight, Frank.”

He tensed as you said his name. “How do you know my name?”

You almost rolled your eyes. “Uh, it’s not exactly like you’re incognito. The Punisher logo on your vest kind of gave it away.”

“Right. Night, kid.”

“Goodnight.”

You smiled and shut the door, moving to curl into your little bedspace. If you were being completely honest, you felt the safest tonight sleeping here than you’d ever had. Logically, you knew the Punisher was supposed to be some big, scary man, but deep down, you knew no harm would come to you with Frank Castle sitting just outside your door.

The sunlight slowly woke you the next morning. You squinted into the light that poured in from the broken window above your sleeping bag. You turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. You rose from the makeshift bed, wincing as your joints popped, and made your way to the hallway. You looked down each end, but Frank was gone. It didn’t surprise you that he left at some point in the night, but you couldn’t say you weren’t a little disappointed he wasn’t there. You shuffled back into your room, freezing when you saw what was on the table.

Breakfast.

A hot, steaming breakfast.

You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it earlier, what with the smell now wafting towards your nose. Instantly, your stomach rumbled. You rushed over to the takeout container, eager to find what was inside. A sticky note on top simply read “Thanks, kid,” but you set it aside. Your mouth watered the instant you opened the container.

Pancakes.

This was probably the single most happiest moment of your life. You hadn’t had a hot meal—let alone a hot breakfast—in who knows how long. The platter spread before you seemed like a feast. You dug in happily, savoring every bite until it was gone.

 That was the last you expected to hear from the Punisher. You stitched him up, he bought you breakfast the next day as thanks, that should be it, right?

Turns out Frank Castle was a man of many surprises.

Nearly every single day from that point forward, you would find a takeout container centered on your table. Sometimes, he left you breakfast like that first day—sometimes pancakes, sometimes omelets, but all from the diner a few blocks down the road. Other days, he’d bring you dinner, leaving Chinese takeout containers piled high on the table or a Tupperware container full of homemade spaghetti. You weren’t sure who made the spaghetti—you couldn’t exactly picture Frank in the kitchen—but it was incredible, nonetheless.

Your favorite days were when Frank lingered after dropping the food off, eventually going as far as to sit and eat with you when he could. Those days left you feeling the happiest. Dinners with Frank happened more and more until he offered you the small second bedroom in his rundown apartment. “I’m never gonna use it,” he said, “and I’m not gonna bust you out of jail if you get caught for trespassing.” You eagerly grabbed the opportunity with both hands—you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if that horse would get you out of this rat- and cockroach-infested hellhole. Living in an actual apartment would be a dream.

Thinking back on everything, you weren’t sure when the feeling began, but one day, you realized…you felt like a family. By all means, the relationship you had with Frank Castle was far more familial and paternal than any you’d ever had with your biological family. With each passing day, you couldn’t be happier that you’d stumbled across a half-dead Punisher in the alley that night.

[suttttton]

An Invitation

How do you get Jonathan Sims to go on a date with you? Easy. Step one: Trick him by giving him a fake statement filled with puzzles that lead him to the date location of your choice. Step two: Profit?

---

“Jon,” Sasha says, leaning against his desk.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up from his work.

“D’you want to get lunch with me today?” she asks. It’s just a casual question. They’ve gotten lunch together before, and she knows that Jon won’t interpret her question in a romantic way, but her stomach still thrums with nervousness. It’s… different, now that she’s decided to let herself have a crush on him. Now that she’s decided that, eventually, she’ll ask him on a real date.

He doesn’t even look at her, just shakes his head. “Can’t, I’m a bit swamped this week. I’ve got a lot of—things…” he trails off, drawn back into his work. The exciting world of follow-up research. She stands there for another minute, just watching him, knowing that he has forgotten her entirely. It’s one of those things that should be annoying, but is really just… deeply endearing. Ugh.

She’s going to ask him on that date soon.

***

When she asks Jon out, she tries to be obvious about it. Jon has a hard time reading social signals at the best of times, and she wants to make things easy for him. She’s not the most comfortable with grand gestures, but she’s got a bit theater kid in her yet, and she’s sure she can make it work.

She finds Jon in the break room, eating a bowl of microwavable soup and staring blankly at nothing. Very adorable. She knocks twice on the table, getting his attention, and he blinks once and smiles at her.

“Jon, there’s something I want to ask you,” she says. She can feel heat rising in her face. God, this is about to be embarrassing. She really, really hopes he doesn’t turn her down. (Why would he turn you down, James? You’re a catch.)

She gets on one knee, takes his hand. “Jonathan Sims,” she says dramatically. “Would you do me the honor of coming to dinner with me on Friday?”

He looks at her, and his eyebrows furrow. “Sorry Sasha,” he says, “but I can’t. I requested some books, and they’re supposed to arrive Friday. I was planning to get started on them Friday evening.”

She sighs. She’d take it as a graceful rejection, if she hadn’t seen Jon reject people before. He got nervous and stuttery and hyper-apologetic. He doesn’t look at all uncomfortable now, just confused as to why she’s on the floor.

He doesn’t know that she’s trying to ask him on a date.

Later, replaying the scene in her mind, she realizes what the problem was. They were at work. Even with her making it as dramatic as possible, the environment was too casual. She asked him to do platonic activities with her all the time while they were at work—why would he assume differently?

She needs to ask him when they aren’t at the Institute, somewhere where she can make a whole presentation of it. She’ll buy him flowers, sweep him off his feet.

Except.

He keeps turning down her offers to spend time together. When he isn’t busy with follow-up, he’s busy researching the Leitner books. It’s… stupidly endearing. And unhealthy. Jon doesn’t look unwell, really, but he does look… stressed, hunched over his desk all day. Jon needs a break from work, not just so she can ask him on a date, but also so he doesn’t drive himself into a nervous breakdown.

Sasha hatches a plan.

***

It doesn’t take long to put together. Just an evening, researching cryptic puzzles, scouting out locations that aren’t too far from the Institute, writing a nonsensical statement in the ‘I saw a ghost in a graveyard and it was spooky’ vein.

The only problem is how to get the fake statement into Jon’s caseload without him noticing. She can’t just drop it on his desk, not with him there all day long. She could get Lydia involved, but she isn’t sure the Head of Research would approve of her plan, and even if she did, Lydia is a bad liar. Jon would know something was up.

In the end, Jon solves the problem for her. He leans back in his chair, hisses over to her, “Sasha! Swap with me?”

“Spiders?” she asks, and he winces, nods. She holds out her hand, and flicks through the offending file. It has all the hallmarks of a false statement, but—

“I felt thousands of legs swarming over me, filling up my mouth, my nose—”

She snaps the folder shut, wrinkling her nose. “No problem,” she says. She hands Jon the fake statement. “You can take this one, I haven’t gotten started on it yet.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling. Her stomach flips, and she watches for a few moments longer as he gets to work.

***

It would be suspicious for her to be staring at Jon the entire time he’s working on the statement, so instead she just glances over every once in a while, making sure he doesn’t immediately drop the statement in the ‘discredited’ pile.

He doesn’t. Instead, his frown deepens as he’s drawn in, trying to figure out the puzzle she’s left for him. The statement is clearly fake, but a few of the words are—wrong. Nonsensical. Gibberish.

She sees Jon go over and over the text, marking every strange word. Then he picks up his phone, dials the number listed on the statement. It’s a disconnected number, and Jon’s frown deepens.

He thinks for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on his desk. Then he pulls out a notepad, begins writing on it, consulting the statement to transcribe the strange words exactly.

At that point, Sasha knows she has him. Jon loves puzzles, and now that he knows there’s a puzzle to solve in the statement, he’s not going to stop until he figures it out.

It’s a simple Caesar cipher, with the phone number as its key. It yields the message:

Here are the coordinates:

CH.HCGDHCGFYERE, -HB.KGICCECIF0WI

In order to crack the coordinates, Jon simply has to replace each letter with its numerical position in the alphabet. Jon is smart, he’ll figure it out. The coordinates belong to a cryptid-themed restaurant in America called the Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grille.

Once, the Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grill website landing page contained several blurry photos of “Moth Man,” along with a somehow even blurrier photo of a restaurant menu. Now, it’s a nightmarish jumble of the strangest stock photos Sasha could find, along with a single hyperlink that just says, “Click me!”

(Sasha included this step because she finds it deeply entertaining to watch Jon click on the shadiest links possible. It’s revenge for all the viruses she’s had to clean off his computer.)

The link leads to a much more tasteful webpage. It’s has a single picture of a rose on it, and below that it just says, “An Invitation”. Then it gives the address of a very cute little cafe just a short walk from the Institute. Beneath that, “Tonight. 7:00pm.”

It takes about an hour for Jon to figure out the Caesar cipher, and after that he works through the puzzle quickly. It’s a delight, watching his face when he sees “Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grille,” and even better when he sees the monstrosity she’s made of their website.

He clicks the link without even a second of hesitation, which almost makes Sasha laugh out loud. And then he’s just staring at the invitation. He opens a new tab, opens Google Maps, puts in the address. She sees the back-in-forth in his head—‘Tonight’ has probably long since passed, and he isn’t likely to find anything if he shows up at the cafe at 7:00pm tonight.

But Jon is stubborn, and if he doesn’t go ‘Tonight,’ it’ll eat at him. She’s trapped him. He’ll show up. She’s certain of it.

***

She debates for a long time if she should wear a dress, or a button-up shirt and tie. She decides on the tie. It has ferns on it, and she needs the calming vibes.

It’s starting to sink in, what she’s done.

Why didn’t she just say, “Jon, I am asking you on a date”? That would have been so much easier! Christ, she’s tricked her crush into going on a date with her. What kind of creep does that?

She’s terrified Jon will be angry with her. Or worse, hurt. This whole thing is technically a prank. What if Jon thinks she’s just… making fun of him?

She stops by a flower shop on her way there, and the shop assistant asks what she needs, and she’s so nervous by then that she actually says, “I tricked my friend into going on a date with me, and I need flowers that will prevent him from hating me forever.”

“Right,” the man says, uncertainly. “Well—” And then he makes Sasha a very, very nice arrangement because, unlike Sasha, he isn’t a complete mess.

Sasha arrives at the cafe thirty minutes early, because she knows Jon. She knows he’ll want to stake out the place ahead of time. She knows she has to arrive ridiculously early to beat him there.

But apparently, she’s underestimated him because he’s already there.

He’s seated at a table in the corner, where he can see the entire dining room. He’s still wearing his clothes from work, and there’s a pastry in front of him.

He’s watching the door, of course he is, so he sees her come in.

“Sasha!” he calls, waving wildly at her. It makes something pang in her chest, that Jon’s instinct upon seeing her in a public place is to excitedly greet her. She certainly isn’t that kind of person.

She smiles, walks over to him. Her fingers are curled tightly around the flowers, crinkling the paper just slightly.

“Do you have a date tonight?” he asks, looking her over, his eyes still flicking back and forth between her and the door.

“I hope so,” she says.

He frowns. “Are they late? Or—”

She hands him the flowers. “These are for you.”

He looks at them, bewildered, then back at Sasha. “What—”

“The invitation was from me,” Sasha says, sitting down across from him. “I faked the statement, and I made the puzzles.”

He stares at her for moment, then at the flowers, then back at her. She waits for him to yell at her, or run off, or—she doesn’t know.

Then he starts laughing. It’s—wonderful, when he laughs. He always tries to hide his face, and this time he decides to use the flowers for that purpose, stifling his giggles against the petals. “Sasha, I—I thought it was going to be the, the Mob, or something.”

Sasha can’t help but start laughing too. “You thought the Mob sent secret messages to each other using a Caesar cipher?”

“I don’t know!” Jon says. “This is—” He lets out a long breath. “Well, I did enjoy the—game, I suppose.”

They look at each other for a long moment.

“Wait,” Jon says. “So I’m your date?”

“If you want to be,” Sasha says.

Jon smiles. “I—” He laughs again. “Yes. Of course I do.”